My head snaps towards the doorway, my breath catching in my throat.

Oh. My. God. It can't be.

Not here. Not now.

Yet, there she stands, bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light.

Zerina Martinaj.

My mother.

Yup. No mistake here.

The world seems to spin around me. Betrayal, fear, and a simmering anger — all three bubble within me, threatening to spill. My mother, the woman I thought had abandoned me, is now here, a part of this sinister world.

Luciano throws his head back and lets out a hearty chuckle, the sound echoing through the opulent study. "Leave the family drama for another time, cara mia," he teases, addressing me with a sickeningly sweet tone.

Oh no, I think it's apparently exactly the right time for the family drama.

He turns to Zerina next. "My beloved. Escort Signorina Martinaj outside and see her safely to her car. I am sure you two have much to discuss."

As I walk behind her, down the rug-clad stairs,  all my senses numb, I can't help but think:

Life sure has a cruel sense of humor. First, I run into Liam.

Now, my mother?

Is it all a coincidence, or something else entirely?

A wave of childhood memories washes over me – baking yummy cookies with her in the old kitchen, her gentle, slightly wrinkled hand brushing a stray curl from my forehead.

The comforting scent of her lavender perfume.

But those tender moments are quickly overshadowed by a harsher reality. I remember so well how she tricked me into releasing her way back when she was trapped in the Angels basement. How she hurt me.

I remember the painful reveal of the lie she made me live in for over twenty years.

The memory of her cold goodbye, the sting of abandonment —all this and more,  still fresh after five years.

I thought I wouldn't miss her at all but now, I catch myself looking at my mother not without pity.

She's older, a few streaks of silver woven into her auburn hair. Still the sharp, calculated glint in her hazel eyes, their color so similar to mine, remains unchanged.

When I focus deeper on them, I almost scoff out loud.

They're red-rimmed, glistening with unshed tears.

Does this mean she regrets everything she did to me? Is that what this is about? A weak, lukewarm effort at the belated apology?

The cynical part of me sighs inwardly. If I know Zerina Martinaj, and I surely do, she isn't one for displays of emotion.

Not genuine ones anyway.

Her world has always been one of calculated moves and hidden agendas. She wouldn't be here in Italy, in Luciano's mansion, a viper in an obvious den of vipers, unless it served some purpose.

Has she really married this guy?

Having recovered from the initial shock, I grant her a brittle smile, forcing out a single word. "Why?"

Her lips twitch in a semblance of a smile, but that one doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Alex," she replies, her voice husky with emotion."There's so much we need to talk about. I want you to know one thing: I am here in Italy because of your father. Finding you was just a bonus. A very welcome bonus indeed."

Part of me wants to run, to escape the suffocating weight of her presence.

But another part, a yearning for some semblance of understanding, keeps me rooted to the spot.

I hesitate, my gaze flitting between her tear-stained face and the opulent surroundings of the mansion foyer. "This isn't exactly the place for a family reunion," I finally manage. "Also... wife?" I arch a brow incredulously.

Zerina steps closer, her hand reaching out hesitantly. Instinct tells me to flinch away, but I hold my ground.

Her touch, once comforting, now feels so... foreign. It's as if should I let her fingers reach mine, she'll somehow taint me.

But I'm still curious what the hell my mother is doing here in Italy, of all places. How is it all related to my father, Kieran the Knife Murphy?

And how and why she got married to frigging Luciano Bianchi of all people!

"I suppose I am to call you The Donna now? No longer Zerina Martinaj. You're Zerina Bianchi."

Her name sounds so foreign to my ears. Did I ever really know this woman at all? 

"I would very much like for you to... call me nënë one more time, my darling vajza."

Her use of Albanian endearment words for "mother" and "daughter" tugs at my heartstrings, as does her statement that she is glad that she also found me in Italy.

Is she really?

"I'd love it if you walked with me to the garden, Alex," she murmurs, her voice thick with unshed tears. "There's so much you don't know."

"Fine." I cross my arms." You have ten minutes to say what you have to say. Then, I'm going back to Rome."

The cool night air washes over me as we step out of the imposing Bianchi mansion. Zerina follows closely behind me, her footsteps echoing in the stillness. A manicured lawn stretches out before us, a verdant expanse punctuated by the occasional statue and the soft glow of strategically placed lanterns.

We find an ornate wrought-iron bench nestled beneath a sprawling oak tree, its leaves rustling gently in the evening breeze. As we settle onto the cool metal, a comfortable silence descends upon us.

Zerina's gaze is fixed on the murky horizon, her expression that of sorrow and longing. I've never seen my mother so vulnerable before.

The strong, resilient woman I've come to know over the past five years, ever since she revealed her true self in Dublin, seems to have vanished. She's replaced by this... insecure, fragile figure, apparently haunted by the past.

"I missed you so much, Alex. My daughter. I... You have to believe me. We... Looked for you everywhere." I can barely hear her over the soft rustling of leaves.

A lump forms in my throat. Say what?

"What do you mean by... We? Who is we?" I can barely speak.

"Liam and I," she says as if it were obvious.

Hang on a bloody second. Since when are my mother and Liam in cahoots? How is that even on the table?

"Alexandra, listen. I want to be frank with you."

"That would be a first," I can't resist but say.

"I deserved that. But thank you for the opportunity to speak up, nevertheless. Five years ago... After I left the life of crime behind, I knew coming back to Dublin wasn't going to be easy. But I didn't know I was going to be such an easy target for the Albanian clan. They found me faster than I thought they might." Her voice trembles slightly.

"So you knew something like that could happen?"

I can't believe she knew and even so, we traveled to Ireland. We came to grandma's funeral. That was incredibly reckless.

"I'm not going to lie, I definitely thought of it, yes." She crosses her hands in her lap. "But I also thought that... you know, that we had time. That we could get in and out of Ireland quick enough. This was my first mistake."

"And after that?" I prompt her in a quiet voice.

"After that... I was so blinded by hate, by the need for revenge," she continues. "Darkness consumed me, and I let it destroy everything in its path, even my own daughter."

Her words hit me like a physical blow. The woman I've always known as strong, calculating Zerina, is now revealing a side of her I never imagined existed.

Her lips curve into a tight smile, devoid of warmth. "Alex," she acknowledges, "I was a fool. On my mission to destroy Kieran, I destroy my relationship with you."

Numbly, I rise to my feet, the weight of the world pressing down on me, and I start pacing around the garden.

"How did you and Liam reconnect?"

"Isn't it obvious? I was one of the first people he came to after you disappeared. He thought I might know something about where you had gone."

I dig my nails into my palms. "Must have been hard for him to swallow his pride and go to you for help, of all people."

"It was. He told me as much. Especially because, as you know, I tried to murder him once. Without mercy. Without a second thought. Just to cause as much pain as possible to Kieran. And I am not going to lie, I wanted him off your life path, too. I didn't want you to repeat my mistakes from the past."

It ended with Nico's death.

"Alexandra." My mother stands up, now level with me and places a timid hand on my shoulder. "Even that did not deter Liam. He hated me for what happened to his best friend, yet if there was the slightest chance that I knew where you might have gone... He was ready to make a deal with the devil himself if it would bring you back. And I admired that. I respected that."

"But you didn't know."

"That's right, I didn't. You'd vanished into thin air. Then, we made a tentative promise to one another that we would both look for you. And if one of us found you first, we would tell it to the other. Imagine my surprise when a year ago he contacted me. I thought he had news of you. But he told me about Kieran being alive instead. In Italy, of all places. Liam thought I'd like to know."

"So you put everything on hold and came here with Liam and Patrick?"

My secret, my past, my family – they are all entangled in this web. I can't seem to flee from it either, trapped like a helpless fly.

She nods, and sits back on the bench, hugging herself.

"I needed to know if that was true. I needed to see for myself that Kieran the Knife Murphy fled justice once more. But I found you, by pure accident and I am grateful for it. And I found love instead."

"So you really fell for Luchiano? You married for love?"

"It was somewhat of a whirlwind romance, but there was a connection I couldn't deny."

Well, she is only forty five. She does have the right to find someone new. But still... A pang of disbelief shoots through me. The irony of life.

My mother, involved in a passionate relationship with a notorious mafia boss?

Again?

"He's everything you fled from when you left Kieran, Mom," I manage to whisper.

Zerina shakes her head. "That he is not, Alex. He may be a mobster just like your father, but where Kieran was cruel and calculated, Luciano is warm — a man capable of great love and loyalty. Not unlike Liam himself." She shoots me a meaningful look and I swallow. "When Patrick and Liam stumbled upon you at Policlinico, Luciano offered to bring you here so we could meet. I'm happy that you now know the truth about Enzo. Another thing: he wants to tear down Kieran's empire just as much as I do. To create a better world for us all. As long as Kieran is alive he is a threat."

A wave of confusion washes over me. Um... Is she trying to justify his actions, or is she truly blinded by love?

Yet there is one thing I do agree on with Zerina Martinaj.

As long as Kieran is alive, he is a threat.

I still don't know why my father is in Italy. Did he merely flee Ireland after an attempt on his life, or... Did he somehow find me first?

Before Liam, before my mother?

The thought of my daughter falling into Kieran's hands fills me with dread.

As if she knows exactly what I'm thinking, Zerina's eyes widen, a look of pure adoration crossing her face. "Sophia is my granddaughter, Alex. My only grandchild."

"You... know?" I whisper, staring at the grass.

"I do. Luciano showed me the tapes too. We both agreed to keep it hidden from Liam. Well, I convinced him to do so because I was not sure if you wanted Liam to know. Your pregnancy was the reason you fled Irelend in the first place, wasn't it?" My mother casts me a knowing look.

She's right. "Thank you." I mutter. "For keeping it a secret from Liam."

"You can tell him yourself when and if you are ready. But as for me... I want to be a part of her life, to watch her grow. Please, let me see her."

A battle rages within me. On one hand, I want to protect Sofia from this world at all costs. On the other, the thought of denying her the love of a grandmother, even if it's my own up-till-now-selfish mother, is heartbreaking.

"I need some time," I manage, my voice barely a whisper. "To think about it."

Zerina nods, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Of course, my dear. I'll be here, waiting. For you both. And... I am sorry that Luciano put you in that position. Either you eavesdrop on Enzo or he tells Liam about Sofia. I never wanted it to come to that."

For the first time in five years, I genuinely believe her.

With a heavy heart, I stand up, the cool night air making me shiver, yet not offering a respite from all the emotional turmoil of the day.

"I will let you know." As I turn to leave towards the car, I glance back at my mother, sitting alone on the bench. She merely manages a sad nod as a form of temporary goodbye and then keeps looking ahead.

I am not sure whether to trust Zerina Martinaj. If I do, I could get betrayed again. But at least for the time being she is playing all the right moves, I'll give her that.

She's offering me space, and this behavior is something I can appreciate.