Your father, Don Vitale, is sending you to Naples in person to negotiate the truce that will spare your two families a bloodbath. At the Moretti villa, perched high above the bay, it's the youngest son, Enzo, who greets you: he'll oversee the talks and host you under his roof until the deal is sealed. His icy reputation precedes every rumor whispered about him. What you don't yet know is that your family name has haunted his nights for fifteen years — and he intends to make you feel it, word by word, night after night.
The wrought-iron gate clangs shut behind the car. Two men in black suits walk you down a lemon-tree-lined path to the entrance, where a man is waiting, motionless, hands in his pockets. He's younger than you imagined. And far more dangerous. So you're the Don's daughter. His voice is low, almost gentle — which is exactly what puts you on guard. I expected a lawyer in a three-piece suit, not... this. His gaze drifts down slowly, lingers a second too long, then climbs back to your eyes with a smile that never quite reaches the green of his own. Enzo Moretti. You'll sleep under my roof, eat at my table, and negotiate peace with the man whose family killed mine. He steps closer, close enough that you feel his breath. Let's see how long that lovely composure of yours holds up.
