Loreley remembered sitting at this very table as a child, watching her father command the room with little more than a look.
The dining hall of the Moretti estate had not changed.
Golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the long, polished table. Crystal glasses reflected the candlelight, and the scent of roasted meats and fine wine filled the air. It was a setting designed for power, a place where alliances were made and broken.
Now, as she took her seat, she felt the weight of his gaze on her.
Don Moretti sat at the head of the table, her father's expression carved from stone.
He had barely acknowledged her since her return, but now, as the servants poured the first round of wine, he finally spoke.
"What the hell are you doing here?" The statement was blunt, laced with quiet disappointment.
Loreley lifted her glass, her movements slow, deliberate. "Lovely to see you too, Papà."
Her father's jaw twitched. "This is not a joke."
"No," she agreed, taking a sip of wine. "It never is with you."
Silence stretched across the table, thick and suffocating.
Luka shifted uncomfortably beside her. Liliana kept her eyes down, pushing food around her plate.
Her father exhaled sharply. "You have made yourself a liability. Your presence—"
"I came for her," Loreley interrupted, her voice quiet but firm. "Not for any of you."
A flicker of something passed through his eyes—anger, maybe even guilt—but it was gone before she could grasp it.
"Your mother does not need you here," he said coldly. "And neither do we."
Loreley smiled, slow and sharp. "Then why am I at your table?"
Her father said nothing. Because they all knew the truth.
Loreley was no longer an embarrassment to be hidden away.
She was the widow of one of the most powerful crime bosses in the city. And her presence unsettled them all.
The doors to the dining hall swung open without warning. The conversation died instantly.
Brooks Bellini entered as if she owned the place.
She was radiant in a cream-colored silk dress, her golden curls cascading over her shoulders. But it wasn't her beauty that caught Loreley's attention.
It was the soft swell of her stomach.
Pregnant.
Loreley barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course she was. Brooks' gaze swept across the table before landing on Loreley. Her smile widened, sickly sweet.
"Loreley," she cooed. "What a surprise."
Loreley set her fork down, tilting her head. "Brooks."
The air in the room shifted again. Then—another presence entered.
Zayden.
He was right behind Brooks, his tall frame tense, his dark eyes unreadable. He looked different—harder, perhaps. Sharper.
But when his gaze landed on Loreley, something else flickered there.
Regret.
Good. She hoped it choked him.
Dinner was unbearable. The conversation was stiff, forced.
Brooks had seated herself directly across from Loreley, her fingers resting delicately on her stomach.
"So," she said lightly, cutting into her steak. "How long are you staying?"
Loreley met her gaze with practiced indifference. "Not for long."
Brooks smirked. "Shame. I was just getting used to having your seat."
Ah. There it was.
Loreley leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. "It was never my seat," she said smoothly. "It was just offered to me. Briefly."
Brooks' grip on her knife tightened. Zayden cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. And for the first time that night, he spoke to her.
"Loreley." His voice was measured. Careful. "It's been a long time."
She took her time sipping her wine before answering. "Has it?"
Something flashed in his gaze.
Brooks pressed a hand to his arm. "Zayden, darling," she murmured. "Could you pass me the salt?"
He hesitated. Then, finally, he looked away from Loreley.
Brooks' smile sharpened. Loreley let her own lips curl, barely suppressing a laugh.
She had already won this game. And Brooks hated it.
After dinner, Loreley excused herself from the suffocating room, stepping into one of the empty corridors of the estate. She had barely taken two steps when she felt a presence behind her.
Brooks. Of course.
The blonde crossed her arms, her carefully crafted smile gone. "Stay away from him."
Loreley arched her brow. "I didn't realize I was near him."
Brooks took a slow step closer, her eyes narrowing. "I don't trust you."
Loreley let out a soft chuckle. "That makes two of us."
Brooks inhaled sharply, regaining her composure. "Zayden and I are happy," she said, placing a protective hand over her stomach. "We're building something together. And I won't let you ruin it."
Loreley tilted her head, feigning curiosity. "Ruin what, exactly?" She smiled. "Your marriage? Oh wait—no. That's right. You're still engaged. After three years? How come?"
Brooks' nostrils flared. Loreley leaned in slightly, lowering her voice to a whisper.
"You're afraid of me," she murmured.
Brooks stiffened.
"You should be." Then, without another word, Loreley turned on her heel and walked away.
And when she did—
She caught Zayden staring at her.
Again.