Born of the Storm

Chapter 1

"Sei in palestra da sei ore ormai." (You've been in the gym for six hours now) a voice disrupted my focus. I was a kick away from destroying the punching bag, sweat dripping down my forehead, my muscles burning with exertion.

I diverted my eyes to the person standing by the door—one of a few people left, whom I call family. Guilt never left me, when I look at whom I have left, I think about all the ways I'd lose them. I've been trying my best to avoid running away from everything, including the things I did not want, if it means losing what I have.

"Luca, lasciami in pace." (Leave me alone) I insisted. I wiped the sweat from my brow and took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. I had been in this gym for hours, honing my skills, mastering every move I needed to survive in this world, distracting myself from reality. After all, this life was thrust upon me—It was what I was supposed to live.

"Don Alessandro wants to see you." he replied.

Time—It's either too slow or too fast. I know coming back that I had responsibilities I turned my back to, and now, I had to face it. But I never knew when I'd be ready.Was I enough? Am I doing enough?  I question myself everyday to see what I've become, if there are changes, and if I had managed to shed my past.

At the age of fourteen, I was confronted with a stark revelation. It has now been nine years since I chose to flee from the truth. A year had elapsed since my return, coinciding with the deaths of Francesco and Isabella Moretti, my parents.

Francesco Moretti, presided over the Italian mafia for a decade. Despite my deep grudge to this legacy—perpetuating a ruthless empire and coming to terms with the actions taken in its name—the bond within this dynasty ran deep, forged over mutual respect and loyalty. Our family had endured through alliances, wars, and betrayal. It is an unbreakable tie, strengthened by bloodshed and secrets. One I am entitled to live by. The fate I thought I could alter.

It all made sense why I had been hidden from everyone.

"If this is about," I started, but he interrupted.

"He is not well, Teresa." he confessed.

"What happened?" my voice laced with a hint of concern. I've been haunted by the thought of my parents' death and the idea of Alessandro being harmed was a constant torment. I halted to remove my safety gear before grabbing a bottle of water to quench my thirst.

"An ambush, at one of the factory he had visited." he paused trying to read my expression before allowing himself to talk once more. "È gravemente ferito." (He is seriously injured) I didn't know how to take it all in; I had not for so long.

"Teresa," he took a few steps towards me. "I need some time alone" I gestured for him to stop. "This is not your fault." he said assuringly. That was always what I was told.

Have I not learned? When will It stop?

"Non c'è nulla da temere di Teresa." (There is nothing to be afraid of) his voice full of comfort as he took more steps forward.

What will happen to Alessandro? Will I have another one to kill? 

"Non c'è bisogno di sentirsi in colpa." (You don't need to feel guilty) he reassured.

This is my fault. Who's going to be next?

I was interrupted when I felt a hand caress my hair. I looked away holding back a tear. "Luca," I tried to look into his eyes. "I don't know what to do." It was the only thing I could say. It's the only thing I'll ever do, feel sorry for everything I have caused.