Chapter six: Join alliances

 As Luca prepared for the day, he made his way to the bathroom, his mind still lingering on the strange impulse that had driven him to apologize earlier. He paused at the mirror, his reflection staring back at him, slightly puzzled. "Why the hell did I even bother with that?" he muttered to himself, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "I don’t do apologies."

Shaking his head, he turned on the shower, the sound of the water filling the bathroom as steam began to rise. Stepping into the bath, he let the hot water cascade over his body, washing away the remnants of the night before. The tension in his muscles began to ease as he lathered up, scrubbing away the last traces of alcohol and sleep.

As the water poured down his back, Luca's thoughts wandered. *I’ve got to get my head straight, * he mused, his mind shifting to the day ahead. He quickly rinsed off and stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel to dry himself. The bathroom was filled with the scent of his soap, a crisp, masculine scent that clung to him as he wrapped the towel around his waist.

Back in his room, Luca dressed with his usual precision, slipping into a sleek all-black ensemble. His tailored black shirt hugged his frame, the black trousers perfectly pressed. He secured his watch on his wrist, each movement deliberate and controlled, and then stepped into a pair of polished black shoes. The outfit was completed with a black blazer that gave him an air of effortless power and authority.

Satisfied with his appearance, Luca gave himself one last glance in the mirror before heading out. The hallway was quiet as he made his way down to meet his men, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floors. He exuded confidence, his expression unreadable, as he mentally prepared for the day's business.

Just as he reached the lobby, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw his sister Elena's name flashing on the screen. His heart skipped a beat—Elena rarely called him unless it was important.

"Luca, I need your help," her voice came through the line, tinged with an urgency that sent a jolt of concern through him.

Luca's entire demeanor shifted in an instant, his usual calm replaced with a tense alertness. He didn’t joke around when it came to Elena. "What happened?" he asked, his voice low and controlled, though inside he was anything but.

The line crackled with a moment of silence, heightening his anxiety. *Elena never asks for help unless something serious is going on,* he thought, his mind racing as he awaited her response.

And then, with a determined resolve, Luca knew that whatever it was, he was going to handle it—no matter what.

“Please, come home. It’s very important.” She replied as she ended the call. He signaled to one of his men and they understood, making his way to the car, the doors were opened for him and he stepped in.

                         Meanwhile, At De Luca’s mansion,

 Isabella told her parents all about her experience in Paris, with them hanging on every word. They laughed at her funny stories, sighed at the more challenging moments, and nodded along when she shared the quieter ones.

“So, you met a very nice guy there and didn’t date him?” her mother asked, a hint of disbelief in her tone. Isabella felt her cheeks flush slightly as she looked away.

“Mom, it wasn’t like that,” she started, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the awkwardness.

Her mother leaned in, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Oh, come on, Bella! You can’t just drop a bomb like that and leave us hanging. Was he handsome? Charming?”

Isabella rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “He was… okay, I guess. But I was too focused on work. You know how it is.”

Her father chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re just like your mother, always putting work first. But sometimes, it’s good to let someone in.”

Before Isabella could respond, one of the security men approached her father, clearing his throat to get his attention. “Sir, we have a guest,” he announced respectfully.

Her father turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “A guest? Who is it?”

The security man hesitated for a moment before replying, “It’s Don Antonio Moretti and his wife, sir.”

Isabella’s parents exchanged a surprised glance, the atmosphere in the room shifting. Isabella felt a slight tension in the air as her father nodded, standing up from his seat.

“Well, we shouldn’t keep them waiting,” he said, his voice calm but carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before. Isabella’s mother placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, offering her a small smile before they all began to make their way to the entrance.

The sudden arrival of Don Antonio Moretti and his wife was unexpected, and Isabella couldn’t help but wonder what brought them to their home today. She could sense that this visit wasn’t just a social call.

 "Who are they, anyway?" Isabella whispered to her mom as they neared the door, curiosity piquing in her voice.

"They're very close friends of ours, dear. You just didn’t get the chance to meet them before you left," her mother replied softly, a fond smile playing on her lips as she thought of the guests.

Isabella raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, really? I guess it’s about time I finally meet them, then," she said with a smile, anticipation growing within her as they walked toward the entrance together. She felt a bit of nervous excitement, wondering what kind of people they were, and if they would remember her from when she was a child.

As the grand double doors slowly opened, revealing the towering figures of Mr. Don Antonio and his wife, Isabella couldn't help but be struck by their presence. They stood tall and elegant, their faces lit up with genuine joy at seeing old friends again. Mrs. Moretti’s eyes sparkled with warmth as she immediately stepped forward, her arms outstretched.

“Oh! Madam Luca! It’s such a pleasure to see you again!” Mrs. Moretti exclaimed, her voice rich with affection as she wrapped her arms around Isabella’s mother in a heartfelt embrace. The two women held each other for a moment, as if reconnecting after years apart, their bond still strong and vibrant.

After finally pulling away from the hug, Mrs. Moretti’s eyes drifted toward Isabella, who stood poised beside her mother. Her gaze softened as she took in the sight of the young woman standing before her.

“Oh my God, is this your daughter?” she asked, her tone laced with pleasant surprise and delight. Her expression was one of disbelief mixed with admiration, as if she couldn’t quite believe how much time had passed since she’d last seen Isabella.

Isabella smiled warmly, feeling a bit shy under the attention. “Yes, I am,” she said, giving a small wave. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Mrs. Moretti’s face lit up even more as she stepped closer to Isabella. “My, my! You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman,” she said, her voice full of genuine admiration. “You must be so proud,” she added, turning to Isabella’s mother, who beamed with pride.

"Thank you," Isabella replied graciously, a slight blush coloring her cheeks at the compliment. "Please, come in," she said, gesturing toward the interior of the house as she and her mother led the way inside.

As they entered, the grandeur of the mansion enveloped them. The polished marble floors gleamed under the soft lighting, and the walls were adorned with tasteful art and family heirlooms. The air was filled with the subtle scent of fresh flowers, adding a touch of elegance to the atmosphere.

Mrs. Moretti looked around, clearly impressed. "Your home is just as stunning as I remember," she remarked, her eyes sweeping across the room.

"Thank you, we do our best to keep it that way," Isabella's mother replied with a smile, leading the guests further into the house.

As they made their way into the spacious living room, Isabella noticed her father rising from his seat to greet their guests. His face lit up with a warm smile as he extended his hand to Mr. Antonio.

"Ah, Antonio! It’s been too long," he said, shaking hands firmly with his old friend.

"It certainly has," Mr. Antonio replied, his deep voice resonating through the room. "I’m glad we could finally visit."

Mrs. Moretti, after taking in the sight of the lavish living room, turned her attention back to Isabella. "You know, your mother has told us so much about you," she said, her tone affectionate. "Paris, was it? How was your time there?"

Isabella hesitated for a moment, thinking back to the whirlwind of events in Paris. "It was... eventful," she replied with a slight laugh. "I’ve learned a lot, that’s for sure."

Mrs. Moretti nodded knowingly. "I’m sure you have, dear. Paris has a way of teaching us all sorts of lessons."

 "You have a pretty daughter," Mrs. Moretti said, her eyes sparkling with admiration as she looked at Isabella's mother.

"And you have a handsome son," Isabella's mother replied with a warm smile, her tone carrying the same affection.

Isabella, who had been half-listening, caught onto this exchange and furrowed her brows slightly. "She has a son?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice as she glanced between her mother and Mrs. Moretti.

“Yes, a very handsome one, in fact," her mother responded, giving Isabella a knowing smile. "You’ll meet him one day."

The men in the room exchanged amused glances, chuckling softly at Isabella’s innocent curiosity.

"Well, I’ll look forward to that," Isabella said, brushing off the conversation with a polite smile. She wasn’t particularly interested in the idea of meeting anyone new, but she didn’t want to seem rude. "But right now, I need to get some rest. I have to step out later—I’ve got some work to do," she added, rising gracefully from her seat.

“Oh, of course, dear," her mother replied, watching her with a tender expression. "Get some rest, and we’ll see you later."

With a nod, Isabella excused herself and left the room, her footsteps echoing softly as she made her way upstairs. As soon as she was out of earshot, the atmosphere in the room shifted, becoming more serious.

Mr. Antonio let out a heavy sigh, drawing the attention of the others. Isabella’s father, Mr. Carlo, leaned forward, concern etched on his face. “What’s wrong, Antonio?” he asked, his voice low and steady.

Mr. Antonio glanced around the room, ensuring they were alone before speaking. “It’s Salvatore. He’s been lurking around, and it’s high time we take our stand,” he said, his tone grave.

Mr. Carlo’s expression darkened as he sat up straighter, the name Salvatore bringing a storm of emotions to the surface. “Salvatore? What is it this time?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

Mr. Antonio shook his head, his expression grim. “I don’t know what he’s planning this time, but we can’t afford to be caught off guard. We need to be ready for him, Carlo. It’s time we strengthen our forces.”

“You know we’re like family, Antonio. Our alliance has always been strong, but Salvatore is a different breed. If he’s making moves, we need to be prepared for anything,” Mr. Carlo replied, his mind racing with the possibilities.

Mrs. Moretti, who had been listening quietly, suddenly spoke up, her voice calm but firm. “There’s something we’ve been considering, Carlo,” she began, exchanging a look with her husband. “Given the situation with Salvatore, we believe it’s time to solidify our alliance in a way that can’t be easily challenged.”

Mr. Carlo’s eyes narrowed slightly as he turned to face her. “What are you suggesting?”

Mr. Antonio took a deep breath before speaking. “We think it’s time to join our families together in a more permanent way. We’ve watched your daughter grow into a fine young woman, and our son… well, he’s more than capable of taking on the responsibilities that come with leading our family.”

A silence fell over the room as the implications of his words sank in. Mrs. Moretti reached out, placing a hand on Isabella’s mother’s arm. “We believe that a marriage between our children could be the key to facing Salvatore together. United, we’d be unstoppable.”

Isabella’s mother blinked in surprise, glancing between Mr. and Mrs. Moretti. “But… Isabella doesn’t even know your son. How could we possibly expect them to marry?”

Mr. Antonio leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “They’ll get to know each other in time. What’s important now is securing our families’ future. A wedding would send a clear message to Salvatore and anyone else who might think of challenging us.”

Mr. Carlo remained silent for a moment, considering the proposal. He knew the strength of the Moretti family and the value of their alliance. But the thought of marrying off his daughter without her having a say in it weighed heavily on him.

Mrs. Moretti, sensing his hesitation, spoke gently. “Carlo, we’re not suggesting this lightly. We all want the best for our children. They’ll have time to build a relationship, but the marriage would solidify our power now when we need it most.”

Mr. Carlo nodded slowly, understanding the logic but still conflicted. “And what if Isabella refuses? She’s headstrong, like her mother,” he said with a slight smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Mrs. Moretti smiled warmly. “We’ll explain the situation to her. Once she understands what’s at stake, I believe she’ll come around. She’s smart, just like you, Carlo.”

The room fell into a contemplative silence, each person weighing the gravity of the decision before them. The suggestion was bold, even risky, but in the dangerous world they lived in, bold moves were often necessary.

Finally, Mr. Carlo broke the silence. “We’ll discuss this further. But if we do this, it has to be done carefully. Isabella’s happiness matters to me, and I won’t force her into anything.”

Mr. Antonio nodded in agreement. “Of course, Carlo. We’re in this together, and we’ll handle it with care. But time is of the essence. Salvatore won’t wait for us to make our move.”

Isabella’s mother sighed, feeling the weight of the conversation settling over her. “We’ll talk to Isabella, but let’s make sure we’re all clear on the plan first. This isn’t just about us—it’s about securing a future for our children.”

With that, the decision was left hanging in the air, a delicate balance between duty and family. They knew that the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but it was one they would have to navigate carefully if they hoped to protect their loved ones.

As they continued discussing the details, the atmosphere in the room remained tense, the weight of their decision looming over them. This was no ordinary family matter—it was a strategic move that could shape the future of both families, for better or worse.