Alessandro Moretti's POV
For a moment.
A very brief, terrifying moment.
I thought she was gone.
The feeling hit fast.
Sharp.
Violent.
Like something had reached into my chest and squeezed.
Zolani wasn't beside Dante.
She wasn't where I told her to be.
She wasn't in sight.
And in my world…
That only meant one thing.
Danger.
My jaw tightened instantly, my gaze scanning the entire floor with cold precision.
Every exit.
Every corner.
Every face.
Too many people.
Too many variables.
Too many ways for something to go wrong.
"Where is she?" I asked, my voice low, controlled—but deadly.
Dante didn't answer immediately.
That alone irritated me.
Then.
"There."
I followed his gaze.
And there she was.
Standing at the cafeteria counter.
Arguing about… something.
"…ID card?"
Relief hit me before I could stop it.
Subtle.
Buried.
But there.
She was fine.
Unharmed.
Completely unaware of how close she had just come to triggering chaos.
I exhaled quietly, turning away before either of them could notice anything in my expression.
Pathetic.
Losing control over something so small.
But it wasn't small.
Not when it came to her.
"Stay with her," I told Dante again, my tone colder now.
He nodded.
Good.
Because if she disappeared again.
I wouldn't be as calm.
The secretary led me through a restricted corridor, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor.
"He's waiting downstairs," she said.
"He identified himself as Felix."
My mind was already moving ahead.
A stolen cargo.
Marked.
Clearly.
O.R.
No one with sense would touch it.
Not unless they had a death wish.
Or a message.
"And he asked for me specifically?"
"Yes, sir."
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The elevator doors slid open to the basement.
Cold.
Quiet.
Isolated.
Perfect.
We walked down a dim corridor until we reached a reinforced door.
The secretary hesitated before opening it.
Inside—
A man sat casually on a chair.
Like he owned the place.
Like he wasn't surrounded by enemies.
Like he hadn't just signed his own death warrant.
He looked up.
And smiled.
Wide.
Too wide.
"Ah… Mr. Moretti," he said, standing slowly. "How lovely to finally meet you."
His accent was light.
European.
Controlled.
Calculated.
"I'm Felix."
I didn't respond immediately.
Instead, I glanced at my secretary.
"Leave."
She didn't hesitate.
The door shut behind her with a soft click.
Now it was just us.
Silence stretched.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Intentional.
I stepped forward slowly.
"What is your intention?" I asked.
Felix laughed.
Not nervous.
Not forced.
Genuine.
"I like you already," he said. "Straight to the point. Efficient. No unnecessary small talk."
My expression didn't change.
"Answer the question."
He tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was something interesting.
"I just wanted to warn you."
That made me pause.
A warning?
From a man who stole my cargo?
"People are after you, Mr. Moretti," Felix continued, smiling faintly. "Not just one. Not just two. A lot of people."
I scoffed lightly.
"That's not new information."
"No," he agreed. "But this is."
He leaned forward slightly.
"I doubt you'll be able to survive… knowing you also have to protect Zolani."
My body went still.
Completely.
The air shifted.
Danger sharpened.
My gaze darkened instantly.
"How do you know about her?" I asked, my voice quieter now.
Deadlier.
Felix's smile widened.
"So it is true."
My jaw clenched.
"You do have a younger sister," he continued. "And here I was, thinking he might've been lying."
He.
That one word echoed.
Deliberate.
Calculated.
Provoking.
I moved before thinking.
My hand shot forward, gripping his collar and slamming him back against the wall.
"Tell me his name."
Felix laughed.
Actually laughed.
"I can't," he said. "I took a blood oath."
I tightened my grip.
"You're going to die either way."
My voice dropped.
Cold.
Controlled.
"Just tell me his fucking name."
For the first time—
I let something slip.
Not fear.
Never fear.
But desperation.
Because this—
This wasn't about me.
This was about her.
Felix noticed.
Of course he did.
His grin turned sharper.
More satisfied.
"You have a weakness," he said softly. "That's… refreshing."
I slammed him harder against the wall.
His head hit with a sickening crack.
Blood began to trickle down.
"And here I thought Alessandro Moretti was untouchable," Felix continued, his voice strained but amused. "Invincible. Untouchable. A king among men."
He coughed.
Then smiled again.
"But you're just a man."
I leaned closer.
"Speak."
He ignored the command.
"Do you know how many people want you dead?" he asked instead. "Do you even keep count anymore?"
Silence.
"You should," he continued. "It's over forty now. Different groups. Different agendas. Same goal."
He tilted his head.
"Twenty billion dollars."
I scoffed.
"Twenty?"
My grip tightened.
"Is that how much you think I'm worth?"
Felix laughed weakly.
"I knew you'd say that."
He coughed again, blood spilling from his lips.
"You people… always so prideful."
"You think this is about money?" he continued. "It's not. It's about power. Influence. Fear."
He smiled faintly.
"And you, Mr. Moretti… are standing at the center of all three."
I released him slightly—
Then threw him across the room.
His body slammed into the wall.
Hard.
A crack echoed.
He slid down slowly, leaving a smear of blood behind.
I walked toward him.
Slow.
Measured.
Controlled.
"Tell me his name," I said again.
Felix laughed.
Even now.
Even like this.
"Ah… what a privilege," he muttered. "To die by a Moretti."
I crouched slightly.
Unmoved.
"His name."
"Never," Felix whispered.
Then he smiled one last time.
And laughed.
Until—
Silence.
He was dead.
I stood there for a moment.
Still.
Thinking.
He knew about Zolani.
That wasn't random.
That wasn't luck.
Someone told him.
Someone who knew.
Someone close enough.
Or dangerous enough.
And now—
They were watching.
This wasn't just a warning.
It was the beginning.