Chapter 7 - THE GHOST OF LORENZO
Elena’s throat worked silently as she stared at the powerful crime boss. She had worked in the penthouse for over a year, knowing Alessandro as an unyielding, cold ruler of the city. She had never seen him look fragile, shaken, or broken.
"His name..." Elena whispered, her eyes filling with fresh tears as she looked down at her daughter. "...his name was Lorenzo. Lorenzo Duca."
The name echoed through the vast, open penthouse like a thunderclap.
Alessandro stumbled back half a step, his heavy leather boot squeaking against the white marble. He pressed his hand against the edge of his black marble desk to steady his swaying frame.
Lorenzo Duca had been Alessandro’s younger brother—his twenty-six-year-old lieutenant, his right hand, and the only person in the world Alessandro had loved with unconditional loyalty. Fourteen months ago, Lorenzo had been ambushed and killed during a bitter turf dispute on the south side of Chicago. His body had been recovered, but his personal effects—including his family crest pendant—had vanished without a trace.
For over a year, Alessandro believed his brother had died alone, leaving behind no legacy, no bloodline, and no peace.
"Lorenzo..." Alessandro breathed, his chest heaving as he stared at the ten-month-old infant in Elena’s arms. "Lorenzo was her father...?"
"We met two years ago," Elena wept softly, no longer able to hold back the truth that had consumed her heart. "He didn't tell me who he was at first. He just said his name was Renzo... he said he worked in logistics. When he was killed... I went to his funeral from a distance. I saw you standing by his casket. That was the first time I realized he was a Duca."
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She held Mia closer to her chest.
"I knew if your enemies found out I was carrying his child, they would kill us both," Elena continued, her voice trembling with raw grief. "So I took a job as your maid under my maiden name... just to keep her close to her father's family... where she would be safe."
