Chapter 3 - The Bloodline CleansedNora stared at the old man, her mind struggling to process what was happening. The "decrepit, senile relative" whom the entire staff had mocked and neglected was speaking. He was moving. And he was calling her by her name.
Struggling against a fresh wave of sharp abdominal pain, Nora pulled herself up from the floor. She took a hesitant step toward the elevator, but her knees gave out from pure exhaustion and shock.
Before she could hit the marble, Lorenzo was there.
The feared Mafia boss caught her swiftly under her arms, easing her weight gently against his chest. Nora gasped, flinching instinctively, expecting violence, but Lorenzo’s grip was surprisingly careful. He looked into her terrified eyes, seeing the genuine shock and innocence within them, and then looked down at her bruised cheek.
"Careful," Lorenzo said softly, his voice surprisingly gentle as he helped her stand. He signaled to one of his senior bodyguards. "Marco, bring a soft chair for the young lady. Right now."
Marco sprinted across the foyer, grabbing an upholstered velvet armchair from the sitting room and placing it directly beside the elevator. Lorenzo carefully guided Nora into it, wrapping a heavy cashmere throw over her shoulders.
Then, Lorenzo turned.
The gentleness vanished instantly, replaced by an aura so lethal that the two house guards holding Mrs. Gable stepped back, completely disassociating themselves from the head housekeeper.
"Father," Lorenzo said, approaching the wheelchair and dropping to one knee before Giovanni. "Can you hear me?"
Giovanni looked at his son. His hand reached out, tapping Lorenzo sharply on the shoulder three times—a code they had used when Lorenzo was a boy, meaning I am in full control.
"I... hear... everything," Giovanni rasped, his voice gaining strength with every word as his vocal cords adapted. "For... five... years."
Giovanni turned his eyes slowly toward Mrs. Gable, who was trembling so violently she could barely keep her feet.
"She... took... the money," Giovanni said, his voice filled with venomous clarity. "Starved... me. Locked... me in the cold. Let them... insult me."
Giovanni’s finger swung slowly, pointing to Viktor, the guard who had pulled Nora by the arm. "He... grabbed... the girl."
Lorenzo stood up slowly. The air in the room felt suffocatingly heavy.
"Is this true, Gable?" Lorenzo asked, his voice dangerously soft.
"Mr. Moretti! Please! He’s confused! He’s having a delusion!" Mrs. Gable screamed, falling to her knees and clasping her hands together in desperate plea. "I devoted my life to this estate! I managed everything! The maid is a liar, she manipulated him—"
"MY FATHER DOES NOT LIE!" Lorenzo roared, his voice shattering a crystal vase on a nearby side table.
The sheer force of his anger made Mrs. Gable collapse flat onto the floor, weeping hysterically.
Lorenzo turned to his head of security, Marco. "Lock Gable and every staff member who participated in this wing’s management in the wine cellar. Stripped of their winter coats. Leave the windows cracked so they can feel the temperature my father lived in for five years."
"No! Please! Mr. Moretti! Mercy!" Mrs. Gable shrieked as Marco and three armed men dragged her away, her nails scraping uselessly against the marble floor until her screams faded down the lower corridors.
Lorenzo then turned his gaze to Viktor, the guard who had bruised Nora’s arm. The large man was already on his knees, his head bowed, sweating profusely despite the cold.
"You put your hands on a pregnant woman," Lorenzo said coldly. "A woman who was the only person in this house with the decency to protect my father."
"Boss, please... I was just following Mrs. Gable’s orders—"
"You follow my family’s orders," Lorenzo snapped. He drew a small, silver-plated tactical knife from his belt and tossed it onto the floor in front of Viktor. "Break your own arm, or Marco will do it with a sledgehammer. Choose now."
Viktor’s face went pale. Shaking uncontrollably, he picked up the heavy hilt of the knife and, with a sickening CRACK, slammed his own forearm against the edge of the marble step. He let out a muffled groan of agony, collapsing onto his side.
Nora covered her eyes, trembling in horror at the swift, brutal violence of the Moretti empire.
Giovanni reached out his frail hand, resting it gently over Nora’s trembling fingers. "Do not... look, child," he whispered softly, his voice filled with a warmth that was entirely absent when he spoke to his enemies. "It is... over."
Lorenzo stepped over the groaning guard and approached Nora. He knelt down beside her chair, looking at her with an intensity that made her breath catch.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"N—Nora," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. "Nora Vance."
"Nora," Lorenzo repeated, letting the name settle in the room. He took her raw, bleach-stained hand into his own, kissing the back of her knuckles with deep, solemn respect. "You protected the Don when he had no power. You fed him when he was starved. You kept him warm when my own wealth failed him."
Lorenzo looked into her eyes, his expression solemn and unyielding. "From this second, you are no longer a maid in this house. You are a guest of the Moretti family. Anyone who disrespects you, disrespects me. Anyone who hurts you, dies."
Suddenly, Nora let out a sharp gasp, her face contorting in intense pain. She grabbed her lower abdomen, leaning forward as a violent contraction seized her body.
"Nora!" Giovanni rasped, his eyes widening in panic. "The... baby!"
Lorenzo immediately stood up, catching her as she slipped from the chair. He looked down and saw a light stain of red beginning to pool against the grey fabric of her oversized maid's skirt.
"The doctor!" Lorenzo roared at his men. "Get the medical team up here NOW! The storm be damned, fly the helicopter from Manhattan if you have to!"
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"Lorenzo," Giovanni commanded, his voice surprisingly firm despite his condition. "Save... her. Save... the child. She is... our family now."
Lorenzo lifted Nora into his arms, holding her securely against his chest. "I’ve got you, Nora," he said softly as he carried her swiftly toward the estate's private medical wing. "Hold on."
