Chapter 43: Shackles by Faith
Luca had barely stepped through the wrought-iron gates of the Morano estate when the sight waiting for him stopped him cold.
It was Bianca’s parents and they went on their kneels immediately they sighted him.
The marble courtyard beneath them gleamed under the moonlight, but neither seemed to notice the chill seeping into their bones.
Her mother clutched the hem of her skirt like a lifeline, her eyes glassy with desperation. Her father’s head was bowed low, but when he lifted it, Luca caught the unmistakable tremor of shame running through the older man’s features.
The night was quiet except for the hum of the fountain behind them, and the sound of Fredo’s measured steps as he followed close behind Luca.
"Please," Bianca’s father began, his voice roughened by both age and humiliation. "Please... spare our daughter."
Luca’s gaze didn’t soften. Not even a fraction.
"I know," the man continued, "that there was... a call. You heard her admit the truth unknowingly about her fake pregnancy." His throat worked as though swallowing glass. "But I promise you if you let her go, we will leave you and your family alone. Forever."
Luca said nothing. He stood still, his shadow stretching long across the courtyard tiles.
Her father’s hands curled into fists against the ground. "Like mother, like daughter," he said bitterly, flicking a glance toward his wife. "I told them,..... told them both to accept the deal you offered. But no. They forged ahead with this..." His words caught. "This stupid, poisonous plan. I wasn’t aware until it was too late. Please, Luca... we are ready to accept the deal again."
Luca turned his back to them. The move wasn’t casual it was deliberate. Dominance wrapped in disdain.
His voice was calm when it came, and all the more dangerous for it.
"What deal?"
The question hung in the air like a blade suspended by a thread.
"You’re too late," he said, still not facing them. "That deal is closed. And I’m not holding her because of her lies alone." He turned then, slow and precise, his gaze cutting through both of them. "She’s here because there’s something she hasn’t told me. She had a deal with someone that took us as an enemy."
The silence was almost physical, pressing on the lungs.
"I need her to confess it to me," Luca said. Then, without looking away from the old couple, he spoke over his shoulder. "Fredo. Get her here at once."
Fredo nodded once and disappeared into the dim interior of the estate.
Her parents shifted uncomfortably, as if the mere thought of what was coming next was enough to burn through their thin layer of composure.
Minutes later, Fredo returned with Bianca in his grip.
She wasn’t fighting this time. No tears, no pleading only a hollow tightness in her jaw.
But Luca could see the fear in her eyes. He always could.
Fredo shoved her gently but firmly forward until she stood between her kneeling parents and the man she had betrayed.
"What deal," Luca asked, his tone quiet but sharpened to a lethal point, "did you make with Seraphina?"
Bianca’s gaze darted to her mother, then to her father, as though searching for some shield that no longer existed.
Finally, she spoke. Her voice was thin, almost brittle.
"She said... she would give me money if I helped her get the Morano property documents."
Luca’s brows lifted, but it wasn’t surprise it was confirmation. "Money," he said slowly, tasting the word like it was spoiled. "So it was always about that.... Money?? Are you really telling the whole truth? Just money? ."
He took a step closer, the leather of his shoes whispering against the stone. "Now tell me, Bianca. what amount do you think I wouldn’t have given you if you had asked? What sum could possibly be worth selling yourself to my enemy?"
Her breath hitched, but he didn’t pause.
"You were the reason," Luca continued, his tone darkening, "why one of my guards suspected someone had broken into the safe. Why the police were alerted. All while I was at the hospital... with my wife."
The word wife hit the air like a territorial claim, a reminder of where his loyalty truly lay.
"Where is the document?" he asked.
Bianca’s hands shook as she turned toward her handbag on the bench beside Fredo. With trembling fingers, she reached inside and pulled out a thick manila envelope. She held it out to him like an offering to a god she hoped to appease.
Luca took it and weighed it in his hand. And then without even opening it he extended it back to her.
"You can keep it," he said.
For a moment, no one moved. No one breathed.
Her parents blinked. Fredo’s brows knit faintly.
Bianca’s voice cracked. "W-what?"
Luca’s smile was slow and cold. "It’s fake."
Gasps cut through the night.
"You didn’t even look closely, did you?" he went on. "You risked everything, and for what? Paper that wouldn’t survive a single day in court."
Her hands closed around the envelope, and he could see the realization settling in this wasn’t just failure, it was humiliation.
"Take your items," Luca said, turning away, "and leave here. Stay far away from me."
Bianca swallowed, her eyes shimmering not with regret, but with the bitter taste of defeat.
Her father rose to his feet, pulling his wife up with him. Neither spoke. Neither dared to.
They gathered themselves and their disgraced daughter, moving toward the gate as though the walls themselves might push them out if they lingered too long.
Fredo waited until they were gone before stepping closer. "Sir, Do you want me to...."
"No," Luca cut in. "They’re not worth the time."
And with that, he left for his apartment, his footsteps echoing against the stone.
****
The apartment was silent when he entered.
The kind of silence that didn’t soothe, It pressed in, heavy with unspoken things.
He poured himself a drink, letting the amber liquid swirl in the glass before downing it in a single pull.
The burn in his throat didn’t match the one in his chest.
Bianca’s confession hadn’t surprised him. Seraphina’s fingerprints were all over it. But now there was something else something bigger that gnawed at him.
If Seraphina was desperate enough to use Bianca... then the game was shifting.
He walked to the window, staring out over the city lights.
Somewhere out there, Alessia was moving through her night, unaware of the war tightening its noose around them both.
He thought of her laugh. The softness in her eyes before it had hardened into suspicion.
And then he thought of Lorenzo, standing too close, touching what was his.
The glass in his hand cracked under the pressure of his grip.
Tomorrow, he would leave at first light to find Donato. But after that... after that, there would be no more leniency.
The board was set.
And every player was about to learn the cost of crossing Luca Morano....
******
Alessia slept soundly, her breathing soft and even, until an unfamiliar noise stirred her from the edge of her dreams.
It came from the direction of her window, a faint scrape, sharp enough to slice through the hush of the early morning.
Her lashes fluttered open, heavy with sleep.
"What was that?".....
She held still, listening.
Then Silence and perhaps she had imagined it.
She exhaled and sank deeper into the warmth of her blankets, determined to drift back to sleep.
Then it came again, a low, odd sound, like something brushing against the glass.
She groaned and pulled a pillow over her head.
"Not today," she said to herself. "I need rest."
The quiet didn’t last.
Three distinct knocks echoed against the windowpane.
Alessia’s breath caught.
Her heart gave a sharp, startled beat.
She pushed back the covers, slid out of bed, and crossed to the window.
With careful fingers, she drew the curtain aside.
Sunlight spilled into the room, warm and blinding after the darkness of sleep.
Blinking against it, she saw the source of the commotio. A lone magpie perched on the sill, one wing hanging awkwardly, its feathers ruffled and dulled.
Her mouth softened into a faint smile.
"Well, aren’t you beautiful," she whispered. "So you’re the one causing all this trouble?"
Still, she glanced beyond the bird, scanning the yard below. Empty, no shadows, no footsteps, no sign of anyone who might have knocked.... So strange.
She returned her gaze to the magpie. Its plumage shimmered faintly in her favourite colour. black as midnight and white as new snow. She eased the window open and gently scooped the trembling creature into her hands.
Inside, she fashioned a small, cosy nook from a folded towel, set out a shallow bowl of water, and crumbled a piece of bread onto a saucer.
"Welcome to the Bianchi home," she murmured, stroking the smooth curve of its head. "My late father loved birds too."
The sound of a door opening made her glance up. Her mother stepped into the room, eyes catching on the magpie before a warm, knowing smile touched her lips.
"I have something to tell you, Alessia," she said, her voice carrying a quiet weight. "I’ve sent for Luca, your husband. Remember... there is no legal divorce yet."
Alessia stared with her eye widely opened. She was stunned, and her lips opened in shock.
******
The following morning, Luca stood at his dresser, fastening the buttons of his crisp shirt.
Today he would pick up Jackson and his mother, they will go to the airport together.
The sudden vibration of a message notification his phone cut through the stillness.
A hidden number...
He check without hesitation.
The message was filled a strong warning. Which read:
"If you still want your brother Donato alive, do not set eyes on him until he wakes. Disobey, and you will both die—along with the Morano legacy....."