Chapter 89: Whispers Of Ruins
The Morano estate was no stranger to shadows, but that night, they seemed alive, stretching, thickening, whispering like conspirators waiting for the right moment to strike.
The storm Bianca had promised had already begun to stir.
Alessia refused to sleep.
Not even when her body screamed with exhaustion, not even when her eyes threatened to close against her will. She sat at Luca’s bedside, her hand locked around his, her gaze tracing the pale lines of his face.
Every heartbeat from the monitor was a fragile gift, every faint rise of his chest a prayer answered.
She had not forgotten Bianca’s venomous smile, nor the audacity in her voice when she declared she would claim Luca once more.
Her words replayed like a curse in Alessia’s mind... "When he wakes, we will see who he reaches for".... "He will forgets you and remembers me".
Alessia pressed her lips against his hand, trembling. "You will reach for me, Luca," she whispered fiercely. "Even if the whole world stands against me, you will still reach for me."
Her vow was both a plea and a promise to stay.
*******
The dark blue car carried Bianca and Enzo away from the gates.
Bianca sat with the air of a queen returning from conquest, her hat discarded, her eyes glittering with victory yet to be won.
Enzo leaned against the leather seat, his gaze fixed on the lights of the estate shrinking behind them.
"You played your part well," he muttered, though there was no admiration in his tone.
Bianca smirked. "I don’t play enzo I win. And there’s a difference."
"Winning requires strategy," Enzo shot back. "You stirred the lioness tonight. Alessia won’t back down easily."
Bianca turned her gaze on him, slow and deliberate, like a blade drawn from its sheath. "And that’s where you come in. You have already betrayed them once, Do it again. Break them from the inside, even without showing your real identity yet. Then Luca will be mine."
Enzo’s lip curled, but he said nothing.
Because though his pride bristled at her command, his hunger for power outweighed it.
*****
Back at the Morano estate, dawn crept over the horizon.
Its light seeped through the heavy curtains, painting the sickroom in muted gold.
Alessia had dozed off for a handful of minutes, her head resting against the bed, when a rough tug on her hair startled her awake.
Her eyes snapped open.
It was her Luca, and he was awake.
His fingers, weak but determined, had curled around her hair, pulling it gently toward him.
His lips moved, his voice ragged, low, almost broken.
"Be strong... for me. And for... our unborn baby, I love you without wax my woman."
Alessia’s breath caught, tears spilling fresh and hot down her cheeks.
"Yes my man, I love you without wax too" she sobbed, clutching his hand tightly. "and yes, I will be strong. I will never leave you..... Never."
The moment was fragile, holy, a miracle reborn in the shadow of despair.
But as quickly as his strength came, it faltered. His hand loosened, his lids fell heavy again.
The doctor and guards burst in moments later, rushing to his side. Orders flew, machines beeped, and Alessia was pushed back, her heart racing with both joy and terror.
He had spoken. He had reached for her.
Yet his life still hung in the balance.
*******
In the grand study of the estate, hours later, Fredo, Luca’s personal for stood with grim posture, speaking with Alessia in a hushed, urgent tone, while holding a paper report that’s reserved for Luca to read when he gets fully better.
"We can’t underestimate her, signora, Ma’am" he said. "Bianca does not act alone. She has power behind her... influence. Perhaps more than we realize."
Alessia nodded, her jaw tight. "She came into Luca’s room as if she owned it. As if she had a right."
"And she had help getting past us," Fredo added, his eyes dark. "Someone opened the way for her. Someone inside."
Alessia’s blood froze.
She didn’t have to guess who.
"Enzo," she spat.
The name was a curse, a betrayal that burned her tongue.
Fredo inclined his head. "I believe so. We’re tracing his movements. But you must prepare yourself, Ma. They are not just trying to break into this house. They are trying to break into his mind, his heart."
Alessia’s hands clenched into fists. "Then let them try. I will burn before I let them take him."
******
That night, Bianca stood before a mirror in her lavish suite across the city.
Her fingers traced her reflection as though she were sculpting destiny itself.
"You heard him, didn’t you?" she whispered to herself, recalling the moment Luca murmured Alessia’s name. The sound of it still made her stomach twist with rage.
She pulled a vial from a velvet box, A vial of dark, shimmering liquid gifted to her by her son, Jackson.
"This time," she hissed, her eyes gleaming, "it won’t matter what name he whispers. Because when he wakes, his soul will already belong to me."
Enzo appeared in the doorway, silent as a shadow.
"It’s risky," he warned, eyeing the vial.
Bianca turned to him, her smile sharp. "Risk is what wins wars, Enzo. And this... this is war."
********
Alessia sat with Daisy, who had rushed to her side after hearing some circulating rumor of Bianca’s return.
"She’s like a plague," Daisy muttered, pacing the room. "She destroys everything she touches. You can’t let her near him again."
Alessia rubbed her temples, her exhaustion evident, but her spirit unbroken. "I won’t. But Daisy... she’s not just after Luca. I can feel it. There’s something else. Something darker."
Daisy stopped, her brow furrowing. "Like what?"
Alessia hesitated, remembering Bianca’s strange word, "More wisdom, more backup, more strange power wins Luca".
Her stomach twisted. "She spoke as if... as if she’s using something unnatural. Something beyond just lies and manipulation."
Daisy’s eyes widened. "You mean..... "
"Yes," Alessia whispered. "This isn’t just a battle of hearts. It’s a battle of souls."
********
Seraphina walked into the Atlan sanctum as the dusk unrolled itself across the city, An empire of glass and shadow folding into night.
The corridors smelled faintly of salt and old paper; the Atlan master’s chamber sat at the heart of that hush, lit by a single halo of candlelight that made the intricate sigils on the floor swim like slow fish.
She did not bother with greetings.
The master rose from his throne. A tall, lean silhouette wrapped in a robe the colour of stormwater and watched her approach with those patient, unreadable eyes the Atlans were famous for. Behind him, shelves of relics muttered soft histories, and a carved mask stared down from its perch as if it had witnessed empires rise and fall.
"I heard you wanted to speak," he said. His voice was gravel and silk, a voice that had outlived lovers and coups.
Seraphina let her gloves fall away and looked at him like a woman who had rehearsed grief until the lines of it had become fluent. "I have been trying," she said. "For years.... I have burned bridges, bribe saints, broken men. I have cut myself open to this war and still Luca stands firm and stronger. He gains ground. Every move I make, he answers twice over. I feel like...." She swallowed. "A damn failure". Luca uses every bricks I threw at him too build mighty victories.
The Atlan master did not smile, He tilted his head, as if listening for something only he could hear. "You are not a failure," he said at last, and the words were administered with the cold mercy of someone who only told you the truth when it could be useful. "You are been impatient with the wrong enemy"...
******
Alessia was jolted awake by a strange sound.
Not the beep of Luca’s machines.
Not the creak of the old walls.
But a voice whispering.
She turned, heart pounding.
Luca lay still, but his lips moved, forming words that were not his own.
Her blood ran cold.
He whispered Bianca’s name.
Alessia’s chest caved, her body trembling as she rushed to his side. "No, no, no.... Luca, it’s me. It’s Alessia. Stay with me, ."
But the whisper came again, hoarse, unnatural, as if dragged from his throat by invisible hands.
"Bianca..."
Alessia’s tears fell onto his chest as she clutched him desperately.
In the corner of the room, the shadows thickened, twisting, almost laughing.
Alessia knew, in that moment, the storm Bianca had promised had arrived.
And this time, it wasn’t just words.
It was war for Luca’s very soul.
In the dark suite where Bianca and Enzo plotted, Bianca’s lips curved into a cruel smile as she pressed her fingers against the vial.
She could already feel the tether tightening, pulling Luca toward her even as he lay unconscious.
Enzo stepped closer, his voice low. "And if Alessia fights harder than you expect?"
Bianca’s eyes burned with unholy fire.
"Then she will learn," Bianca whispered, "that even love can bleed."
And with that, she tipped the vial, letting a single drop of black liquid fall onto her tongue.
A pact sealed, A war begun....
Alessia clutched Luca to her, her sobs breaking into the storm.
"Fight it, Luca," she begged. "Fight her. Come back to me, Come back to us."
And though his body lay still, though the storm raged louder, his fingers twitched faintly against hers just enough to remind her he was still there.
And he is it still fighting.
But for how long, Alessia did not know.
The battle had only begun.
And the night, once more, belonged to ghosts.
From the balcony above, a shadow detached itself from the darkness, watching Alessia’s desperate cries with cold satisfaction.
A voice whispered into the storm, unseen, unheard.
"Soon... Alessia will break. And when she does, the Moranos will fall."
The figure stepped into the light..... From back from exile and ready to finish to spill.....