Chapter 28 - The Masquerade of Wolves
Luca’s flashlight beam remained frozen on the yellowed envelope.
I stepped into the vault, the chill of the underground granite seeping through the soles of my boots. My breath formed faint plumes of mist in the air.
Luca reached out, his fingers hovering over the envelope before he picked it up. The paper was stiff with age, sealed with dark red wax bearing the same serpent crest that was etched into my watch.
"Open it," I whispered.
Luca broke the seal and unfolded the single sheet of heavy parchment. His amber eyes moved across the lines of handwritten script, his jaw hardening with every passing second.
"What does it say?" I asked, watching the muscle tick in his cheek.
Luca looked up from the page, his expression an unreadable storm of fury and profound respect. "It’s a decree of succession," he said, his voice low and vibrating with tension. "Your father didn't just hide the Charter down here. He made an amendment to the Covenant before he disappeared."
He handed me the letter.
The handwriting was firm, elegant, and resolute:
*"Luca—if you are reading this, it means my daughter has survived the wolves, and my sister Rosa has kept her promise. The Five Families are built on blood, but blood without honor is nothing more than slaughter. By the ancient right of the Carbone Sovereign, I name you the Protector of the Charter—and I bind the Moretti and Carbone houses into one unbreakable seat. Elena carries the blood right; you carry the sword. Stand together, or the Council will devour you both."*
I lowered the letter, my heart pounding violently against my ribs. "He knew. Even twenty years ago, he knew that you and I would cross paths."
"He knew that only someone raised in the shadow could understand the light," Luca said softly, his voice rough. He closed the distance between us, his tall frame blocking out the cold stone of the vault. He reached down and took the titanium lockbox with one hand, his other hand moving to rest firmly on the nape of my neck.
His touch was electric, burning away the chill of the crypt.
"Tonight, Elena, we don't go to the Grand Metropole as beggars pleading for peace," Luca said, his amber eyes blazing with an unyielding fire. "We go as the rightful sovereigns of this city. And we remind them what happens when they cross the Moretti and the Carbone."
Six hours later, a sleek fleet of four black Rolls-Royces pulled up to the gilded entrance of the Grand Metropole Hotel.
The penthouse ballroom had been booked under a false diplomatic name. The entire top floor was sealed off by private security, guards carrying concealed submachine guns stationed at every elevator bank and fire escape.
The elevator doors opened to the ballroom.
I stepped out onto the marble floor, Luca right beside me, his arm linked firmly with mine.
I was no longer wearing the maid’s uniform or the borrowed wool sweater. Mrs. Moretti had arranged for a couture evening gown of deep emerald silk—the traditional color of the Carbone house—that hugged my frame with regal elegance. Around my neck hung the eight-pointed silver star, resting proudly against my bare skin.
Luca wore a bespoke black tuxedo with an emerald silk pocket square, looking every bit the ruthless Don whose name struck terror across the coast.
The moment we walked through the double mahogany doors into the grand ballroom, the murmur of seventy assembled syndicate bosses, council delegates, and high-society fixers ceased instantly.
Every head turned.
And at the far end of the room, standing beside a lavish banquet table adorned with silver champagne flutes, stood Vanessa Bellini.
May you like
She wore a blood-red gown, her blonde hair coiffed, her lips painted scarlet. But the smug triumph on her face vanished the exact instant her eyes landed on me.
***
