Chapter 47
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Sophia
"Why come back now? After all these years?" I ask.
Luna's eyes find mine.
"Riccardo was dead." Her voice cracks on his name. "Bruno was in a coma. The two people who knew my secret, who could expose me or protect me—both gone. Or so I thought."
"So you came back for what? Revenge?" Lorenzo's voice cuts sharp.
"No." Luna shakes her head. "I came back to get my life back. I've spent years of hiding, of looking over my shoulder, of lying to my son about who his father was. I was done."
"You contacted Francesco," Pietro states.
"Six months ago." Luna's shoulders straighten despite her bound hands. "The day after I heard about Bruno's coma. I called Francesco from a burner phone. Told him his daughter was very much alive."
"He knew? All this time while he was selling me to Daniil, he knew you were alive?"
"He didn't care." Luna's laugh is bitter. "That's what I realized when we finally met. Francesco Torrino didn't give a shit that I'd survived. He wasn't angry about my betrayal or happy about my return. I was just... a tool. Something he could use."
"Use how?" Nico asks.
"Against the Sartoris, of course. He wanted me to finish what I'd started then. Seduce Lorenzo again, get close to the family, feed him information." She looks at Lorenzo. "He thought you'd be weak for me. That seeing me alive would make you vulnerable."
Lorenzo's jaw tightens but he says nothing.
"But you had other plans," I say, understanding dawning.
"Years changes a person." Luna's voice hardens. "I wasn't that desperate girl anymore, willing to do whatever Francesco ordered. I'd raised a child alone. Survived on nothing. Learned that the only person who'd save me was myself."
"What did you do?" Vittoria whispers.
Luna's eyes lock on mine. "I set up a meeting with Francesco. Private. Just the two of us. He thought I was coming to get my orders, to plan how we'd destroy the Sartoris together."
The room goes completely still.
"I held a gun to his head."
Oh shit.
"I made him write everything over to me. Every property, every account, every business. Told him if he didn't, I'd blow his brains out right there." Luna's voice is eerily calm. "He laughed at first. Thought I was bluffing. Then I shot next to his head. Just to prove I could."
"Jesus," Nora breathes.
"Francesco signed everything. His hands were shaking so bad he could barely hold the pen. Kept saying I was making a mistake, that the families would never accept me, that I'd be dead within a week."
"But he signed," Lorenzo says.
"He signed." Luna nods. "Witnessed and notarized by his own lawyer, who I'd paid off the week before. All legal. All binding."
I know what's coming but I can't process it.
"And then?" Bruno asks, though we all know.
Luna looks directly at me. "Then I put three bullets in his head."
That's it.
"You murdered him," I whisper.
"I executed him." Luna's voice doesn't waver. "For what he did to me. To you. To all of us. Francesco Torrino was a cancer that needed to be cut out."
"The will," Lorenzo says suddenly. "The lawyer said Francesco updated his will two months ago, leaving everything to Sophia."
Luna actually smiles. "The lawyer lied. Or rather, he told the truth Francesco wanted him to tell. The real will, the one Francesco signed before I killed him? That leaves everything to me."
I can't breathe. Can't think.
Lorenzo's eyes burn as he stares at Luna. The silence stretches until it feels like glass about to shatter.
"Liam!" He shouts.
The door opens immediately. Liam must have been waiting just outside.
"Get her out of here," Lorenzo orders, not looking away from Luna. "Now."
Liam doesn't question it. He moves to Luna, helping her stand with her hands still bound. She doesn't protest, doesn't speak. Her eyes find mine one last time before Liam guides her from the room.
The door clicks shut.
Lorenzo turns on Bruno with violence radiating from every muscle. "You knew. You knew she killed Francesco and you said nothing."
"I didn't—"
"Don't." Lorenzo cuts him off. "Just don't."
He steps closer to Bruno's wheelchair. For a moment, I think he might hit him. Instead, he spits at Bruno's feet.
"I won't forgive you for this. For any of it. Riccardo, Luna, the lies. You're dead to me."
Bruno's face twists with rage. "You think you're so righteous? You kept Giuseppe's secret—"
"I protected our mother!" Lorenzo roars. "You protected yourself!"
He turns to Pietro. "Sophia and I are moving out. Within the week."
"Lorenzo—" Pietro starts.
"No." Lorenzo's voice drops to something colder than anger. "I'm done. We'll find somewhere else."
"This is not right," Pietro says, standing. "We need to be secured. Together. The families—"
"The families can burn for all I care." Lorenzo's laugh is bitter. "Look around, Pietro. Look at what we've become. Secrets, lies, betrayals. Bruno helping our brother's mistress fake her death. Me hiding our father's second family. You want to talk about security? We're already broken."
Vittoria makes a small sound of protest.
"At least if I'm not here, you don't have to look at me every day and remember what I kept from you," Lorenzo continues. "And I don't have to look at him"—he jerks his head toward Bruno—and remember what he cost us."
"Lorenzo, please," Nora says softly. "Think about this—"
"I have thought about it." His hand finds mine, gripping tight. "Every second since I found out. The family's already fractured. I'm just making it easier by not being around you all day and night."
Bruno tries to wheel himself forward. "You can't just—"
"Watch me." Lorenzo's voice could freeze blood. "You don't get to speak. Not to me. Not ever again."
The room feels too small, the air too thick. I squeeze Lorenzo's hand, feeling the tremors running through him. He's barely holding himself together.
"This is a mistake," Pietro says. "Dividing the family now, when we're vulnerable—"
"We were vulnerable the moment we started keeping secrets from each other," Lorenzo says. "The moment we decided lies were better than truth. Well, here's the truth—I can't stand to be in the same house as him. And most of you can't stand to be near me after what I hid about Giuseppe."
No one denies it. The silence speaks volumes.
Lorenzo
Vittoria stands suddenly, her chair scraping against the floor. The sound cuts through the suffocating tension like a blade.
"Stop." Her voice carries a strength I rarely hear from my little sister. "Just... stop. All of you."
Everyone turns to look at her. Even Bruno stops his angry muttering.
"We need time." She looks at each of us in turn. "Time to process. Time to grieve what we thought we knew. Time to forgive."
"Vittoria's right," Nora says quietly.
"Time won't change what he did," I say, not looking at Bruno. "Or what I did."
"No," Vittoria agrees. "But maybe it'll help us understand why. Maybe it'll help us find a way forward that doesn't involve tearing what's left of this family apart."
"There is no forward with him." The words taste like ash in my mouth. "Not for me."
Vittoria's shoulders slump. "Lorenzo—"
"You're right about needing time. About forgiveness. But I can't see how we get back to how we were." I look around the room at what remains of my family.
"We can't go back," Vittoria whispers. "But maybe we can find something new."
"Maybe." The word feels hollow. "But not today. Not soon."
Bruno's jaw works like he wants to speak, but my earlier warning holds him silent.
"If no one has anything else to say, I want out." I wait, counting heartbeats. One. Two. Three.
Silence.
Pietro opens his mouth, then closes it. There's nothing left to say that won't make this worse.
"Come on," I murmur to Sophia, guiding her toward the door. Her hand trembles in mine, and I realize she's been holding her breath.
We make it three steps before Pietro speaks. "Lorenzo."
I pause but don't turn around.
"The family needs you. Despite everything."
"The family needed honesty. We gave it lies instead. I'll always be here and do what's best. Now I need out." I keep walking, pulling Sophia with me.
We climb the stairs in silence. My body moves on autopilot while my mind replays every revelation, every betrayal.
When we reach our bedroom, Sophia turns looking at me.
"Lorenzo," Sophia says softly.
I pull her against me, burying my face in her hair.
"I just want to climb into bed and hold you," I admit against her neck. "Forget everything else exists."
She guides me toward the bed, and I follow willingly. We don't bother with clothes, just kick off our shoes and slide under the covers fully dressed. I wrap myself around her, pulling her back tight against my chest. My arm bands across her waist, anchoring her to me.
"Everything else doesn't exist," she whispers, threading her fingers through mine. "Just us."
I close my eyes and breathe her in.
Nothing else matters. Nothing else exists.
Just us.