But despite its beauty, Elena found it strangely cold.
Every hallway contained security cameras.
Every entrance had armed guards.
And every employee seemed frightened of speaking too loudly.
Alessandro tried to make her comfortable.
He arranged a room overlooking the garden.
He hired a private driver.
He ordered her favorite food after learning what she liked.
But the most surprising thing happened on her second morning.
Elena entered the kitchen and found Alessandro standing beside the stove.
He was wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
There was flour on his hands.
A frying pan sat on the counter.
"What are you doing?"
Alessandro looked over his shoulder.
"Making breakfast."
She glanced at the burnt pancakes.
"Is that supposed to be breakfast?"
He examined them.
"I believe so."
Elena laughed.
It was the first time he had heard her laugh since the restaurant.
He smiled.
"Your mother used to make pancakes every Sunday."
"Did she?"
"She was terrible at cooking."
Elena looked at him.
"Then why are you making them?"
He shrugged.
"Because I thought you might like to know something about her."
He placed a plate in front of her.
"She loved music. She hated expensive jewelry. She always carried flowers in her handbag because she believed every room needed something alive."
Elena smiled faintly.
"My mother used to put flowers in empty bottles."
Alessandro stopped.
"She did?"
"Everywhere. Even in the bathroom."
He looked toward the window.
For a moment, he seemed to see Isabella standing there.
Then he smiled.
"That sounds like her."
Elena sat down.
"Tell me more."
And Alessandro did.
He told her about Isabella's laugh.
Her stubbornness.
Her habit of singing while cleaning.
The way she used to steal his shirts.
The little arguments they had about music.
He told her that Isabella had wanted to name their daughter Sofia because it meant wisdom.
Elena listened to every word.
For the first time, the woman she had known only through photographs became real.
...
Meanwhile, Rafael De Luca was preparing his next move.
He was a patient man.
Unlike Alessandro, he did not believe in emotional decisions.
He preferred calculated pressure.
He knew that the Moretti empire had become vulnerable.
Alessandro's daughter had returned.
The crime boss was distracted.
His attention was no longer entirely focused on business.
And Rafael intended to exploit that weakness.
He summoned his most trusted lieutenant, a man named Lorenzo.
"How secure is the Moretti estate?"
"Very secure."
"How many guards?"
"At least thirty."
Rafael smiled.
"Then we won't attack the estate."
Lorenzo frowned.
"What do you suggest?"
"Find the girl."
"She's inside the mansion."
"Not always."
Rafael placed a photograph on the table.
It showed Elena leaving a small flower shop.
She had gone there with one of the household employees.
Rafael tapped the photograph.
"Everyone has a routine."
...
A week later, Elena began receiving anonymous messages.
The first was simple.
YOU DON'T KNOW WHO YOUR FATHER REALLY IS.
She ignored it.
The second arrived the following morning.
ASK HIM WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR MOTHER.
Elena stared at the screen.
She showed it to Alessandro.
His expression darkened.
"Where did you get this?"
"My phone."
"Did you receive anything else?"
"Just this."
He took the phone.
"Marco!"
Within seconds, the security team began investigating.
Alessandro tried not to frighten her.
But he knew the message was not random.
It was psychological warfare.
Rafael wanted Elena to doubt him.
And Alessandro knew exactly why.
Because the truth about Isabella was more complicated than he had initially revealed.
He had not killed his wife.
But he had created the world that had eventually killed her.
Years before Sofia's disappearance, Alessandro had made a dangerous decision.
He had accepted a partnership with a ruthless criminal organization.
He had believed that the alliance would protect his family.
Instead, it had exposed them.
Isabella had begged him to leave the criminal world.
He had refused.
He had promised that he could control everything.
And that arrogance had cost him twenty years with his daughter.
Elena deserved to know the truth.
But Alessandro feared that if he told her everything, she would never look at him the same way.
That evening, she found him alone in his study.
"Was my mother afraid of you?"
Alessandro closed the book in his hands.
"Sometimes."
"Why?"
He took a deep breath.
"Because I was a dangerous man."
"Are you still?"
He looked at her.
"Yes."
Elena lowered her eyes.
"Then why should I trust you?"
Alessandro stood.
"Because I'm not going to lie to you."
He walked to the window.
"Your mother loved me. But she hated the life I had chosen. She wanted us to leave everything behind. I told her I could protect her without giving up my empire."
He turned.
"I was wrong."
Elena listened quietly.
"I believed power could solve every problem. I thought that if I had enough money, enough men, enough influence, nobody could hurt my family."
His voice became quieter.
"But I couldn't protect your mother. And I couldn't protect you."
Elena looked at the photograph on his desk.
"Do you regret it?"
"Every single day."
"Would you give it all up?"
Alessandro did not hesitate.
"Tomorrow."
She looked at him.
"Even your empire?"
"Especially my empire."
...
The following morning, Alessandro made a decision that shocked his entire organization.
He announced that he intended to withdraw from several criminal operations.
He would sell his interests in the underground casinos.
He would close the illegal shipping routes.
He would transfer legitimate businesses into a new holding company.
And he would remove every member of his organization who had participated in the events surrounding Isabella's death.
Marco was the first to question him.
"Boss, De Luca will see this as weakness."
Alessandro adjusted his watch.
"Let him."
"He'll attack."
"Then he'll have to face me."