Chapter 4 - THE GATHERING STORM
By dawn, the Belladonna estate was operating under a total state of war.
High security fences surrounding the forty-acre property were fully electrified, and dozens of heavily armed guards in tactical gear patrolled the perimeter with Belgian Malinois attack dogs. The news of what had transpired in the ballroom had not yet leaked to the public or the rival syndicates, but within the inner circle of the Romano family, the shockwave was absolute.
I was moved from the maid’s quarters in the basement to the master suite on the top floor—a room four times the size of my old apartment, filled with velvet sofas, broad balconies overlooking the mist-covered grounds, and wardrobes packed with tailored designer clothes. But despite the luxury, I felt more like a prisoner than ever before.
I stood before the floor-to-ceiling mirror, dressed in a soft cream silk sweater and black trousers that Eleanor had personally selected for me. I raised my hand, gently brushing my fingers over the tiny crescent birthmark beneath my right ear, then reaching back to feel the thick, jagged ridge of the scar on my back.
All my life, I had felt incomplete. I had lived with a hollow void in my chest, a constant, lingering feeling that I was living someone else's life, speaking someone else's language, dreaming someone else's nightmares. Now, the void was suddenly filled with blood, power, and violence.
A soft knock sounded at the door before it swung open. Matteo walked in, carrying a silver tray with a cup of tea and a leather folder. He had changed out of his tuxedo into a dark tailored suit, but the dark circles under his eyes revealed he hadn't slept a single second.
“How are you feeling?” Matteo asked gently, setting the tray down on the glass coffee table.
“Like I’m dreaming,” I admitted, my voice quiet as I turned to face him. “Or having a nightmare. Yesterday I was scrubbing champagne stains off your floors, Matteo. Today you’re telling me I own half this estate.”
Matteo’s mouth twitched into a faint, bitter smile. “You don't just own half this estate, Isabella. By my father’s will, a third of the family’s assets were placed in a trust under your name, pending proof of life. You are officially one of the wealthiest women in Chicago.”
He sat down on the armchair across from me, opening the leather folder.
“I’ve been digging through the old files all night,” he said, his tone turning businesslike and dark. “Thirteen years ago, when you vanished, our family was locked in a brutal territory war with the Moretti syndicate. Carmine Moretti was losing. Two days before you disappeared, my father turned down a peace offer that would have ceded our shipping docks on Lake Michigan.”
“And then I disappeared,” I said, connecting the dots.
“And then you disappeared,” Matteo nodded grimly. “The fire was set at our summer house in Lake Geneva. The firefighters found a body burnt beyond recognition, wearing your necklace. A week later, Carmine Moretti offered peace again. Devastated and broken, my father accepted. We gave up the docks. We retreated. Carmine used those docks to turn his syndicate into a billion-dollar narcotics empire.”
“So Carmine kept me alive as insurance,” I murmured, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “If your father ever broke the peace treaty, Carmine could reveal that I was alive—or kill me for real.”
“Exactly,” Matteo said, his gray eyes flashing with lethal intent. “But Carmine died three years ago. His son, Lorenzo Moretti, took over the family. The question is: did Lorenzo know about you? Did he know that the little girl who was dumped in an orphanage under the name Elena Vance was actually the lost Romano heir?”
Before I could answer, the door was thrown open. Victoria walked into the room, unannounced, her face tight with cold anger. She was dressed in an immaculate red designer dress, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight, sharp bun.
“Matteo, we have a massive problem,” Victoria said, ignoring my presence entirely. “My father is downstairs. He is furious about being locked in the courtyard last night. He’s threatening to pull the Capone family out of our distribution agreement unless you explain what’s going on.”
Matteo didn't even stand up. He slowly leaned back in his chair, gazing at Victoria with icy indifference. “Let him pull out. I’ll buy his shares at a fifty percent discount by nightfall.”
“Are you insane?” Victoria snapped, stepping deeper into the room. “You’re ruining everything! Our wedding is in three weeks! The entire alliance between the Romanos and the Capones relies on our marriage! And you’re tearing it all apart over a DNA test for a girl who doesn't even remember your name!”
I stood up, feeling a sudden surge of heat in my chest. “I remember enough, Victoria,” I said, my voice steady and firm. “I remember the way you tore my clothes open last night to shame me in front of two hundred people. You wanted to destroy me because I didn't bow low enough when I served your drinks.”
Victoria turned her sharp gaze onto me, her nostrils flaring. “You were a maid, girl. You were dirt under my shoes. And just because a piece of paper says you share blood with Matteo doesn't make you a princess. You don't belong in this world. You don't know how to survive here.”
“That’s enough, Victoria,” Matteo’s voice boomed, deep and thunderous, as he stood up from his chair. The dark energy radiating from him made the entire room feel heavy. “You will show my sister respect in this house, or you will be escorted off this property by my men and never allowed to return.”
Victoria gasped, her face going pale with shock. “You’re threatening me? For her?”
“I am reminding you of your place,” Matteo said coldly. “Isabella is blood. You are a business arrangement. Do not confuse the two.”
Victoria bit her lip so hard a drop of crimson appeared on her flesh. She looked at me with a hatred so deep, so absolute, that I knew in that moment she would stop at nothing to eliminate me. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her high heels clicking violently down the hallway.
I looked at Matteo, a sudden feeling of dread settling in my stomach. “She isn't going to let this go, Matteo. Her family is powerful.”
“Let them try something,” Matteo said softly, his voice dripping with venom. “I’ve spent thirteen years living in a house full of ghosts, Isabella. I lost my sister, my father, and my peace of mind. Now that I have you back, I will burn this entire city to the ground before I let anyone harm a single hair on your head.”
May you like
He walked over to me, reaching out to gently touch my shoulder.
“Tonight, we hold a private meeting with the syndicate heads,” Matteo said. “I am going to formally introduce you as Isabella Romano to the inner council. I am going to show them that the lost daughter of Chicago has returned. And then, we are going to hunt down every single person responsible for taking you away from us.”
