Chapter 2 

"The Weight of Shadows"

Lorenzo's POV

⚠️ I'll put a warning only for this chapter. It contains violence, blood, gore, torture, and death. I won't put warnings in the next chapters though. You have been warned at the beginning. ⚠️

Your mental health comes first!

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There's a rule in the Moretti family: no loose ends.

It wasn't something my parents taught me directly. No, they were the kind of people who tucked us in at night, told us stories about kings and warriors, and made sure we ate dinner together as a family every Sunday. The no-loose-ends rule came from experience—years of walking the line between light and darkness.

And tonight, the shadows were stirring.

The man in front of me was barely recognizable. Blood streaked his face, mixing with sweat, and his shirt was soaked through. He sat slumped in the chair, his arms tied tightly behind him, the legs of the chair wobbling on the uneven concrete floor of the warehouse. The air smelled like rust, gasoline, and fear.

I crouched in front of him, close enough to smell the desperation clinging to his skin. "You've got one more chance, Calhoun," I said calmly, pulling a cigarette from my pocket. I lit it, inhaling deeply before blowing the smoke into the cold air between us. "Tell me what I need to know, and this ends quickly."

His swollen eyes met mine, bloodshot and filled with terror. "I-I don't know anything! I swear!"

"See, I'd love to believe you," I said, leaning back on my heels, "but you and I both know that's bullshit." I gestured lazily to my right, where Nico stood like a shadow, flipping a knife between his fingers. "And Nico here? He doesn't like liars."

Nico smirked, stepping closer, the blade catching the dim light as it spun. "I really don't."

Calhoun flinched, his body trembling. "I didn't mean to cross you, Ren. It—it wasn't personal!"

I tilted my head, watching him like a predator watches prey. "Not personal? You stole from us. From my family. That makes it very personal."

He sputtered, shaking his head. "It was a mistake! I—"

I stood abruptly, cutting him off, and took another drag of my cigarette. My calm demeanor snapped as I grabbed the chair and yanked it forward, slamming it to the ground. He yelped as his head bounced off the floor, groaning in pain.

"You think I give a shit about your excuses?" My voice dropped, low and deadly. "You don't cross the Morettis and walk away. You know that."

Nico knelt beside him, twirling the knife like it was a toy. "Ren, want me to loosen his tongue a little? Just say the word."

I held up a hand, signaling for Nico to wait. My gaze stayed locked on Calhoun, my voice steady. "Where's the file? The one you sold. Who bought it?"

"I—I didn't sell it," he stammered. "I just... I just passed it along! I don't know who it went to! Please, you have to believe me!"

Nico chuckled darkly, standing again. "Wrong answer."

I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. "You're making this harder than it has to be, Calhoun."

His breathing hitched as I reached for the gun tucked into my waistband. He started babbling, words tumbling over each other in a desperate attempt to save himself. "Wait! Wait! Okay, okay, okay! It—it went to a hacker! Some freelancer! I don't know her name, but I swear she's nobody—just some punk who doesn't know what she's messing with!"

I paused, the barrel of the gun brushing his temple. "Where is she?"

"I don't know!" he cried. "I don't know! She moves around a lot, but she's... she's been spotted near Midtown! That's all I've got, I swear!"

For a moment, the only sound was his ragged breathing. I glanced at Nico, who shrugged.

"No loose ends," I muttered.

The gunshot echoed through the warehouse, loud and final. Calhoun's body slumped, lifeless, and blood pooled beneath him.

Nico whistled low, shaking his head. "Brutal, boss."

I handed him the gun, wiping my hands on a cloth. "Clean this up. Burn the place."

As Nico got to work, I pulled out my phone, dialing a number. It rang twice before a voice on the other end answered.

"It's done," I said simply. "But we've got a new problem. Find the hacker."

The line went dead, and I slid the phone back into my pocket, stepping out into the night.

No loose ends. Not ever.

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I stared at the monitor in my office, the glow from the screen illuminating the tense lines of my face. The breach wasn't minor—it was calculated, precise. Someone had clawed into a file we'd hidden deep in the system, a file we never intended for anyone to see.

"Whoever this is," I muttered, tapping a finger on the desk, "they're not an amateur."

Behind me, Dante Russo, my second in command, my best friend and practically my brother, leaned against the wall, his easygoing smirk absent for once. "You think it's one of Benedetti's people?"

Benedetti. The name tasted like bile. A man who dealt in human lives like they were products on a shelf. My brothers and I had taken him down two weeks ago, eliminating his operation and freeing the captives he'd hoarded like treasures.

If this breach was linked to him, it wasn't over yet.

"No," I said finally, though my tone held more frustration than certainty. "Benedetti's people don't have the brains for this. Whoever did this... they're smarter."

"And bold," Dante added, crossing his arms. "They're poking a bear they don't understand."

I nodded, my thoughts tangled in a web of possibilities. The name "Cipher" floated on the edge of my mind like a ghost. We'd traced the breach to her—a hacker infamous in the underground for stealing secrets and selling them to the highest bidder. 

The problem was, no one really knew who Cipher was. All we know is that it's a woman.

I would find her. And I would make sure she understood the consequences of messing with the Moretti family.

Before I could reply, my phone buzzed on the desk. I glanced at the screen and froze.

Momma.

Dante peeked over my shoulder, grinning. "Uh-oh. You're in trouble."

I shot him a glare before answering. "Ciao, Mamma."

"Lorenzo Giovanni Moretti," she said, her tone a perfect mix of affection and authority. "When were you planning on calling your mother, hm?"

I leaned back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Mamma, I've been busy."

"Busy is not an excuse, tesoro. You will come to dinner tonight. No excuses."

"I—"

"Seven o'clock," she interrupted. "And don't be late. Your brother is coming, and your father is making lasagna. Bring Dante, too."

Dante perked up at the mention of his name, mouthing, Lasagna? I'm in.

I sighed. "Fine, Mamma. I'll be there."

"Good. Ti voglio bene, Lorenzo."

"Ti voglio bene, too," I replied before hanging up.

Dante clapped me on the shoulder, his grin returning full force. "Guess we're having lasagna."

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By the time we pulled up to my parents' house, the tension from the breach had loosened its grip on my chest. The Moretti family home was a sprawling villa just outside the city, a blend of old-world charm and modern luxury. It stood as a testament to my parents' love for tradition and family, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of our lives.

The door opened before I could knock, and my youngest brothers, Luca and Leo, barreled into me with all the force their eleven-year-old bodies could muster.

"Ren!" they shouted in unison, clinging to my legs like barnacles.

"Hey, terrors," I said, ruffling their hair.

"We're not terrors!" Luca protested, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "We're warriors!"

"Yeah," Leo added, puffing out his chest. "Warriors like you!"

I chuckled, lifting them both into a bear hug. "If you're warriors, where's your armor?"

They giggled, squirming out of my grasp and running back inside.

The smell of garlic and tomato sauce filled the air, wrapping me in a cocoon of warmth and familiarity. My father was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of sauce while humming an old Italian tune. He's wearing a fucking pink apron with bunnies on it. Jeez. 

"Papà," I greeted, stepping into the kitchen.

"Lorenzo!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up. He wiped his hands on a towel before pulling me into a tight hug. "You've been working too much. Look at you—thin as a rail!"

"I'm fine, Papà," I said, laughing. "Dante's here, too."

"Dante, my boy!" my father called, waving him over. "Come, taste the sauce. Tell me if it's perfect."

Dante didn't need to be asked twice. He grabbed a spoon and took a bite, his eyes widening. "Perfect as always, Mr. Moretti."

My father beamed, patting him on the back. "Good boy."

In the dining room, my mother was setting the table while my brother Marco, a college senior, lounged on the couch with a comic book.

"Ren!" my mother exclaimed, rushing over to kiss both my cheeks. "Look at you! When was the last time you slept?"

"I sleep," I said defensively.

She raised an eyebrow. "Not enough. You need to take care of yourself, Lorenzo. Promise me."

"I promise, Mamma."

"Good. Now sit. Dinner's almost ready."

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Dinner was chaos, as usual. Luca and Leo fought over the breadbasket, Marco told a story about a disastrous group project, and Dante managed to charm my mother into giving him an extra slice of lasagna.

But amidst the laughter and teasing, there was a moment of peace—a reminder of why I did what I did.

My family was everything.

As the evening wound down, my mother pulled me aside.

"Lorenzo," she said softly, her hand resting on my arm. "You carry so much on your shoulders. Let us help you."

I swallowed hard, nodding. "I know, Mamma. I'm okay."

Her eyes searched mine, filled with a mother's love and worry. "You're not alone, tesoro. Don't forget that."

"I won't," I promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

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Back in the car, Dante glanced at me. "You know, for a guy who deals in shadows, you're pretty soft."

"Shut up," I muttered, but a small smile tugged at my lips.

As we drove back into the city, the warmth of my family lingered, a shield against the storm brewing in the distance.

Because no matter what secrets Cipher was hiding, or what danger she'd brought into my world, I'd face it head-on.

And I'd protect my family.

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˗ˏˋ Author's note ˎˊ˗

Heyy (✿◡‿◡)

Chapter 2! 

Isn't Ren adorable?!

Anyways, your vote and comment makes another person's day!

Question of the chapter:

When's you birthday?

Mine's November 29th!

Comment ><

See you next Sunday!'

You matter <3

Izel

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