Chapter 2 - The Angel in the Garden
The rain had settled into a thick, clinging fog by the time Luca led me out of the main house. He didn't allow Marco or any of the other guards to follow us. In his right hand, he carried a heavy iron flashlight; his left hand remained hovering near my shoulder, a silent, protective presence that I was entirely unaccustomed to. Dante only ever touched me to push, pull, or punish. Luca’s proximity felt like a shield.
We walked toward the oldest section of the Moretti estate—the sunken Victorian gardens that sat on the edge of the cliffside overlooking the roaring black sea below. At the center of the overgrown labyrinth stood a massive, weathered marble statue of an archangel, its stone wings spread wide, its face carved in eternal sorrow.
"Your mother designed this garden twenty-five years ago," Luca said quietly, his voice cutting through the sound of the crashing waves. "Before the war tore our families apart. Before she was forced to flee with the Vales."
He walked to the base of the statue, brushing away thick vines of ivy to reveal a hidden iron grate built into the stone foundation. It was locked with a heavy, old-fashioned brass mechanism that perfectly matched the shape of the key in my pocket.
My hands shook so violently I could barely fit the key into the slot. Luca placed his hand over mine, his warmth steadying my tremors. "Together," he murmured.
We turned the key. With a heavy, grinding click, the ancient mechanism gave way. Luca pulled the grate open, revealing a steep set of stone stairs leading down into the darkness beneath the earth.
The air inside smelled of dust, old paper, and dried lavender—a scent that instantly brought back memories of my childhood, of my mother brushing my hair in the dark while whispering stories of a beautiful palace by the sea.
At the bottom of the stairs was a small, reinforced vault room. There were no weapons or stacks of money here. Instead, a single wooden desk sat against the wall, covered in leather-bound journals and a sealed metal lockbox.
Luca shone the light on the desk, but he didn't touch anything. "This belongs to you, Elena. I knew Mara had a hiding place on the property, but out of respect for her memory, I never searched for it. Read what she left. I will keep watch at the door."
I walked forward, my chest tight. I picked up the topmost journal, opening the yellowed pages. My mother’s elegant handwriting filled the paper.
May you like
To my dearest Elena, the first page read. If you are reading this, the trap has closed, and Dante has sent you to the lion's den. You must know the truth. Luca Moretti did not kill our family. He was the one who hid us. It was Dante’s father who betrayed us to the syndicate, and it is Dante who carries that bloodline of greed. I taught you to fear Luca only because a frightened girl is a careful girl. If Dante knew you trusted Luca, he would have killed you years ago. Trust the monster, Elena. He is the only man who ever truly loved me enough to let me go to keep you safe.
A sob tore from my throat. All my life, I had lived a lie, terrified of the wrong man, while the real devil shared my bed.
