Chapter 11 - The Inheritance of Blood
The heavy iron gates of the Moretti estate swung open to allow a sleek, bulletproof Mercedes to glide smoothly up the gravel driveway. Inside, eighteen-year-old Leo Moretti adjusted his collar, staring out the window at the towering marble facade of the mansion. He was no longer the crying infant wrapped in a dirty blanket; he was a young man standing on the threshold of his father’s empire.
In the grand foyer, Rocco Moretti waited. At fifty-eight, the lines on his face were deeper, etched by decades of unyielding power, but his dark eyes retained their razor-sharp focus. Beside him stood Sophia, now a sharp twenty-six-year-old university graduate holding a master’s degree in international corporate law, her intellect making her one of Rocco’s most trusted advisors.
"You're late," Rocco greeted, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a rare display of paternal warmth.
"Traffic through the north bridge was backed up, Father," Leo replied, stepping out of the car and handing his briefcase to a guard. "Uncle Marco said the dock shipments from Zurich are coming in early tonight."
Sophia stepped forward, handing Leo a fresh espresso. "And Marco is right, as usual. But that’s not all that’s arriving. The federal prosecutor’s office just sent an encrypted alert. Valentina’s legal team is attempting a parole appeal from the maximum-security penitentiary."
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Rocco’s expression instantly hardened, the temperature in the foyer dropping several degrees. "After ten years, she still thinks she can claw her way back into this family's records?"
"She has nothing left to lose," Sophia warned, her gaze steady. "And desperate people make dangerous alliances."
