Chapter 28: Suspicious & faith
Donato Morano stepped into the hall with deliberate calm. His tailored suit blended into the elegance of the room, but his mind raced beneath the still exterior. Princess Elowen followed a few steps behind, her long gown whispering against the polished floor,
Seated upon the crescent-shaped throne was The king -princess Elowen’s father, his silver eyes scanning Donato with the precision of a predator. Around them, high-ranking nobles sat quietly, cloaked in robes and silence.
The king’s voice broke the hush. "You’ve been in Virenkai for nearly three weeks, Donato Morano. Tell us. What progress have you made?"
Donato bowed slightly. "I’m close, Your Majesty.
The corrupted security algorithms are being rebuilt. Your financial systems have been restructured, and artificial intelligence integration is stabilizing. Within a week, your economy will return to full strength."
Murmurs rippled across the chamber.The King leaned back, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips.
"You have done well," he said. "And I am a man of my word. Once the council confirms full stabilization, the Book which you seek, will be handed to you. Your path home shall be opened."
Relief surged in Donato’s chest, but he only bowed again. "I am honored."
Yet behind the grand chamber doors, danger moved like a serpent in the dark.
Enzo stood silently behind a velvet curtain, his expression hard and unreadable. Every word the king spoke only fueled his growing desire.
The Book of truth —To the Moranos .
It would not go to Donato.
Not if Enzo had anything to do with it.
His fingers curled into a fist. He leaned in closer, listening to every breath, every word.
"Soon," he muttered under his breath. "That book will be mine... and Donato will regret ever trusting me."
A smile curled across his lips as he slipped away before the guards could spot him, his silhouette vanishing into the labyrinth of marble corridors.
*******
Hours later, inside Donato’s guest chambers, the air was thick with unease.
He sat by the fire, pretending to review files. But his mind wasn’t in it.
The king’s words replayed in his head. So did Enzo’s recent behavior. Something didn’t add up—and the more he tried to piece it together, the more the puzzle resisted him.
Princess Elowen entered quietly, her expression carefully composed.
"You look like a man who’s drowning in his thoughts," she said gently.
Donato smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Just trying to stay ahead of everything."
She crossed her arms, watching him. "That smile isn’t fooling anyone. You’re worried."
"I’m fine," he insisted, setting the tablet aside.
"No," she said. "You’re not."
She walked over to the window, glancing down at her phone. "The signal’s come back."
His eyes sharpened. He stood quickly. "Give me that."
Princess elowen handed it over without hesitation.
Donato’s hands trembled as he punched in Luca’s number.
It rang once. Twice.
Then—"Donato?"
Luca’s voice.
Donato’s heart leapt. "Luca! Thank God. I’ve been trying to reach you. Brother, thank you for sending Enzo to me. He...."
Static and then crackling.
Again Luca’s voice came back—sharp, tense. "Enzo? What did Enzo do?"
Donato blinked. "What?"
Luca’s voice grew louder. "Enzo’s not with us anymore. He ran. He betrayed us. Did you see him?"
Donato turned toward the window, angling for better connection. "Hello? Luca? The line’s breaking..... I can’t hear you!"
"Donato—please get out of there for better connection. Did you see Enzo? He’s not who you think he is!"
"Hello? Hello?". Donato said.
And then Silence.
The line went dead.
Donato stood still, the phone clenched in his hand. His blood ran cold.
Princess Elowen stepped forward, her face pale. "What happened?"
He turned to her slowly, the fury barely held in his chest. "I have to find Enzo. Now."
There was something off about him. Too smooth. Too polite. Too careful.
Men like that didn’t knock on doors unless they planned to blow them off their hinges later.
"Princess elowen," he said, voice taut. "I want to kill him, if he has bad motives."
She turned, catching the fire in his eyes. His dark hair was tousled from a restless night, and a vein pulsed angrily at his temple it to grow two heads."
Donato blinked. "What the hell does that mean?"
She stepped forward, her expression as cool as the air. "It means... if you expose him now, he’ll vanish before we know who sent him."
He laughed bitterly. "I don’t need to know who sent him. I need to know where to put the dagger."
"No." Princess elowen’s voice was suddenly sharp. "That’s exactly what he expects you to do. Enzo isn’t working alone. You confront him, and the real threat stays hidden. We let him believe he’s winning... and he’ll lead us straight to the heart."
Donato turned away, gripping the balcony railing so hard the stone cracked slightly beneath his fingers. "I’m not used to waiting."
"You’re not used to deception being the only path forward," she replied softly. "But here, in Virenkai, power hides behind veils. If we want the truth—we have to let the lie play out."
He faced her again, storm still raging behind his eyes. "And what if I can’t stomach it?"
She stepped closer. "Then you better learn. Because this isn’t just about you, Donato. This is about the book. About everything your father warned you about."
His chest rose with a heavy breath. "You’re asking me to act like I don’t see him poisoning the room."
"I’m asking you to outplay him." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Play the fool. Let him think you’re blind. Let him feel powerful. And when the time comes... take everything from him."
A beat passed. Then another.
Donato studied her—her fierce eyes, her unshaken stance, the quiet strength that reminded him of his mother. Not fragile. Not a princess in need of rescue.
No, this was a queen in waiting.
He sighed. "What’s the plan?...."
******
Far away from the palace, in the heart of the city, a quiet storm was also brewing.
Eloisa—Alessia’s mother—sat in front of her bedroom vanity. The late afternoon light bathed the room in gold, but her eyes were fixed on the wooden chest Lauretta Morano had handed her weeks ago.
She had assumed it contained jewelry. Another gift. A gesture of old affection.
But when she opened it, there were no gems. No pearls. Just a folded envelope and a small, delicate silver key etched with the sigil of a rose coiled around a blade.
Her breath caught.
That symbol... she hadn’t seen it since her youth.
She touched the envelope but didn’t open it.
Instead, she whispered, "Lauretta Morano... what are you trying to say?"
Her eyes shimmered as memories surfaced.
Unspoken truths. Buried legacies.
She closed the lid slowly.
"I already know what’s inside," she murmured. "But I’ll open it when the time is right."
****
Meanwhile, In the bustling energy of the city’s fashion district provided a sharp contrast to the silent wars being fought in royal halls.
Alessia twirled in front of the mirror, admiring the way the golden gown hugged her figure. The fabric shimmered like spun sunlight, clinging to her curves, flowing in waves as she moved.
It was perfect.
Luca’s birthday was approaching, and with the media, the elite, and all eyes on them, she had to look stunning. Regal. Unshakeable.
She picked a second gown—a silver one. Sleek, classy, elegant. A backup in case she needed to shift moods or statements.
The sales attendants gushed over her beauty, packing the items with care, offering to call her driver.
But Alessia declined the escort.
She needed air. Space. A moment alone.
She stepped into the warm evening light, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. The city buzzed around her. Horns, voices, the scent of roasted peanuts and fresh flowers from nearby vendors.
Freedom felt good.
As she neared her car, keys in hand, her gaze lifted to the opposite side of the street.
And then she saw him.
She froze.
Everything inside her froze.
A man.
Tall, Tanned and Familiar.
His hair was shorter now, his beard a little rougher, but there was no mistaking that face.
The scar beneath his left eye.
The way his head tilted slightly as he stared at her, like he couldn’t believe she was real either.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Lorenzo.
The man she thought was dead and later learnt he was in Coma.
The man she had mourned.
The man who had been the love of her life... before Luca.
The man who pointed a gun directly to her chest by trying to take her life on her wedding day to Luca.
Time slowed. The city faded. The sounds blurred into silence.
It was just them.
Two ghosts staring a cross a road.
Their eyes locked.
Hers filled with shock, his with something unreadable.
Regret?.... Longing?..... Or something darker?
He didn’t smile.
He didn’t move.
And Alessia couldn’t look away...