1
Vanessa woke to the sound of rain hitting the kitchen window. It was a grey London morning, the kind that made the city look blurry and cold. The apartment smelled like coffee and the vanilla candle her boyfriend, Luca, lit every morning.
Everything felt normal. Safe. It was the quiet life she had worked so hard to build.
She stayed still for a moment, wishing she could stay in this peace forever.
Luca was already up. He was standing by the stove without a shirt on, humming a song while he made pancakes. His dark curls were messy, and he looked happy. He had no idea about the dangerous world Vanessa had spent her whole life trying to leave behind.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said, not turning around. “You’ve got ten minutes before these burn.”
Vanessa got off the couch. She had fallen asleep there again because her mind was too busy to let her sleep in the bedroom. She walked over and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his back.
He laughed. “Was it that bad of a night?”
She didn't answer. She was afraid her voice would shake. Today wasn't a normal day. Her father had told her to come to the family house in North London. In her family, a "talk" with her father usually meant trouble.
Luca turned around and touched her face. “You look pale, Van. Are you okay?”
She forced a smile, the muscles in her face feeling tight and brittle. “Didn’t sleep much. Just... brain won't shut off.”
“Is it work?”
“Something like that.”
He kissed her forehead. “You worry too much about that art gallery. You’re the best one they have. Relax.”
If only he knew. The gallery was just a place her father used to hide his illegal money. But Vanessa had spent two years pretending she was just a normal girl with a normal job.
Her phone buzzed on the counter.
Dad
Just seeing the name made her stomach turn.
Luca looked at the phone. “Aren't you going to answer? He’s called three times now.”
“I’ll call him back later,” she said, quickly grabbing her coat.
“Now? You haven’t even eaten.”
“I’m late for a meeting, Luca. I have to go.” She kissed him quickly and ran out the door before he could ask any more questions.
The drive to her parents' house in Hampstead felt like entering a different country. The busy streets of London turned into quiet, expensive roads hidden behind tall walls and heavy gates.
There were cameras everywhere. Men in black suits stood at the entrance, watching every car that passed. This was her family’s world.....a world of secrets and power.
The guards let her in. She parked her small car next to a shiny black sports car. She knew that car. Her brother, Dante, was already there.
Inside, the house was beautiful but cold. Her mother met her in the hallway and gave her a tight hug. She smelled like lavender, but she looked worried.
“You look tired, Vanessa,” her mother whispered.
“I’m fine, Mom.”
“Your father and Dante are waiting in the office,” her mother said, looking sad. “Go on.”
Vanessa walked down the long hallway. Her heart was beating fast. She took a deep breath and opened the heavy wooden door.
Her father Marcello Moretti was standing by the window. Dante was sitting in a chair, drinking whiskey even though it was still morning. Dante was older and much tougher than Vanessa. He had already accepted that he would spend his life in the family business.
“You didn't answer my call,” Marcello said. He didn't look at her.
“I was busy,” Vanessa replied.
“You live in a flat in Hackney with a civilian who cannot protect you. You are always busy doing nothing,” Marcello snapped. “Sit.”
Vanessa looked at Dante, hoping he would help her. But Dante just looked down at his glass.
“Our deal with the Volkov family is falling apart,” Marcello continued. “The police are watching us too closely. The Volkov's are angry. They want to make sure we stay loyal to each other.”
Vanessa felt a chill run down her spine. “What does that mean?”
“The head of the Volkov family wants a marriage,” Marcello said. “He wants his son, Aaron, to marry into our family.”
The room felt like it was spinning.
“No,” Vanessa whispered. “No way.”
“It’s already decided,” Dante said quietly. “The papers were signed last night.”
“You can’t do this to me! I have a life. I have Luca—”
“Luca is a ghost!” Marcello shouted. “He is a boy playing at love. If you refuse, the Volkovs will take it as an insult. They will retaliate. Our people will die. Your mother. Dante. And your little artist? He will be the first example they make in the middle of Leicester Square for the whole world to see.”
Vanessa stopped breathing. Her father had never threatened her like this before.
“This is how we survive, Vanessa,” Marcello said, walking over and putting a hand on her shoulder. “The Volkovs are the most powerful family in London. If you marry Aaron, we are safe.”
“And what about me?” she asked, her voice breaking.
“That is why you are marrying him,” her father said. “Because everyone is afraid of Aaron Volkov. No one will touch you if you are his wife.”
Vanessa ran out of the office. She couldn't breathe. She walked out into the cold rain, her eyes blurry with tears.
Her phone buzzed.
Luca: You okay? Do you want me to come pick you up?
She looked at the text and started to cry. How could she tell him that she had to leave him to save his life?
“He’s right, you know.”
Vanessa looked up. Dante was standing by the stone pillar, lighting a cigarette. The smoke drifted into the rain.
“You’re going to tell me it’s for the best?” she spat.
“No,” Dante said, exhaling a cloud of grey. “It’s a nightmare. Aaron Volkov makes me look like a saint, and you know I’m a bastard, Ness.” He looked at her then, his eyes softening just a fraction. “But Dad isn't bluffing. The Volkovs are already at the gates. If you don't go to them, they'll come through us to get to you.”
“I can’t do this, Dante.”
“You can,” he said, flicking the ash away. “Because you’re a Moretti. We don't get to choose who we love. We only choose who we die for.”
His honesty was a blade. She didn't say another word as she walked to her car, her legs feeling like they belonged to someone else.
She sat in the driver's seat, hands trembling on the wheel, watching the wipers struggle against the downpour. She couldn’t go home to Luca. Not yet. She couldn't look at his "ordinary" face and know she was about to destroy it.
Her phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't a contact.
Unknown Number: We need to talk. Be at The Obsidian at 8 PM. Don't be late. — A.V.
Her heart stopped. Aaron Volkov. He already had her number. He was already inside her life.
The last ordinary morning of her life was over. The storm had finally broken, and it was going to wash everything away.
