Chapter 85: The ice that bings
Seraphina chamber, at the outside of hercou£ff6 was silent except for the cracking of ice.
Seraphina’s body lay entombed in frost, her beauty preserved yet distorted, her once burning eyes dulled by frozen lashes.
Alessia’s escape had been swift, cruel in its precision, leaving Seraphina suspended between life and death.
But nothing that dangerous stays buried forever.
The first to find her were not her loyal guards.
They were strangers men who sighted them from a tall mountain into her compound, bearing the crest of the Atlan family.
Their boots echoed through the stone floor as they circled her icy prison.
"Well, well," one of them murmured, his breath fogging in the frigid air. "The mighty Seraphina. Brought down by a slip of a girl."
Another smirked. "Should we shatter her, or save her?"
A third stepped forward, the true leader of the pack.
His coat was long, his face sharp with calculated cruelty. "No, We thaw her. A weapon like this doesn’t fall into our hands twice."
They set torches around the chamber. Heat began to lick the ice, hissing as droplets trickled down Seraphina’s pale skin. Slowly, painfully, the frost retreated.
Her chest rose Once, Twice.... Then with a gasp that shook the chamber, Seraphina’s scream tore free, a sound of rebirth and fury.
She collapsed to the ground, as her other guard left their spot to assist her, her body trembling, her once-proud limbs marked by frost scars. Her fingers clawed against the stone, nails splintering, Romeo was no where to be found but she forced herself to be upright.
Her eyes glacial, glowing faintly with remnants of Alessia’s bloodline curse snapped toward her rescuers.
"Who..." she rasped, her voice jagged. "Who dares to touch me?"
The Atlan leader bowed, but mockingly. "We are your saviors, Seraphina. The Atlans. You know our name."
Hatred flickered in her gaze, but desperation dulled it.
She knew the Atlans were enemies of the Moranos, enemies of Luca.
That name alone made her blood heat, Alessia and Luca. The two who had humiliated her.
"What do you want?" she asked, breath shallow.
The leader crouched, his eyes gleaming with ambition. "We want what you want. To see Luca Morano kneel. To see Alessia broken. But more importantly... to claim the black book they protect and steal the properties too."
At the mention of the book and property Seraphina’s lips curved into a smile coldly.
She touched the frost scars along her arms, each one burning with the memory of Alessia’s power.
The humiliation of defeat curdled into something sharper, darker.
"You think you saved me," she whispered. "But I am not your weapon. I am the storm you unleashed."
The Atlan men exchanged uneasy glances, but their leader only smirked wider. "Then let the storm rage. Just rage on our side."
Behind her laughter, Seraphina’s mind raced.
She knew Alessia’s bloodline was stronger than she had expected.
The box, the whispers of the black book, all of it connected to a prophecy of whom Alessia is truly,
Seraphina had long dismissed.
But not any longer, if Alessia’s touch alone could scar her, then Alessia was more than a rival.... she was the key.
And Luca? He would break. Seraphina would see to it. She had lost him once, but she would twist his love until it became his downfall.
As the Atlans toasted their new alliance, Seraphina’s eyes wandered to the horizon where the Morano estate stood like a fortress.
She placed her frost-scarred hand over her heart, feeling the lingering curse pulse beneath her skin.
******
The night wrapped itself around the Morano estate like a velvet cloak, heavy with secrets and the faint whisper of danger.
Alessia stirred restlessly in bed, her thoughts tangled with the memory of the mysterious box.
She could almost hear it calling to her again, urging her to seek, to uncover.
Then warmth, a strong, familiar touch trailed against her back.
"Get back to sleep, my love," Luca’s voice came like a low murmur, husky with desire and command. "Stop hallucinating. Whatever you think the box has, whatever message it gave you... you need something else tonight, You need me."
She turned slightly, lips parted to respond, but he didn’t wait.
His hands found her waist, kneading the tension from her flesh. Slowly, deliberately, he massaged her body with the devotion of a man who worshipped and claimed in the same breath.
"My queen," he whispered against her ear, breath hot enough to set her skin ablaze, you don’t need messages from dead things. You need to clear your head. Tomorrow, we will have a small picnic in the Morano garden. By daylight, you will remember what is real. Me, you, us.
The rough pads of his fingers traced her spine.
Every stroke sent tremors down her body.
Alessia gasped softly, arching under his touch, caught between the comfort of his love and the raw electricity of his need.
"Luca..." she moaned his name, unable to resist the way he always unraveled her.
He rolled her beneath him, his dark eyes glittering even in the shadows. "Look at me, Alessia, Always me." His lips crashed against hers, fierce yet tender, igniting a flame that consumed every fearful thought she carried.
And she did, She looked.
She let herself drown in the intensity of his love, in the man who was both her sanctuary and her sin.
When his head finally lowered onto her chest, when his breathing evened against her skin, Alessia’s heart swelled with silent gratitude.
She prayed to the stars, thanking the day Donato had chosen her for Luca. Fate could have taken her anywhere, but it had placed her here, in the arms of a man who could destroy kingdoms yet held her as if she were the only fragile truth he needed to protect.
********
At Bianca’s lodge, another night unfolded under less gentle stars.
Bianca sat by the flickering lamp in her modest lodge, her eyes locked on her son. Jackson bent over his school assignment, his pen scratching faintly on paper.
He was quiet, too quiet, and Bianca’s heart clenched.
She didn’t have much time not with the curse gnawing at her soul and the enemies circling like wolves.
"Jackson," she said softly, her voice betraying the weight she carried. "Mum wants to talk to you."
He looked up, his blue eyes too sharp for a boy his age. "What is it, Mama?"
"The man I loved, Luca..." Her throat tightened. "He was taken from me. In my desperation to win him back, I sought a black book the most wanted book in the world.
But instead of giving me Luca, I met a witch, She cursed me. And in exchange, I found myself entangled with someone more powerful, someone I cannot control."
Jackson frowned, his little brows knitting. "Sorry to interrupt, Mum... but forget about the black book, You can’t find it... It isn’t yours, forget about Luca Morano too, he isn’t yours."
Bianca stiffened. "Jackson.... "
He shook his head, the innocence of childhood stripped away by something older, something otherworldly in his tone. "Instead, tell me how to be powerful. Show me how I can protect you, how I can rise above them all."
Her blood ran cold. "Why would you ask that?"
"Because, Mum," Jackson said, his voice hollow, almost chilling. "Larissa, Valká, and enzo. They’re the same people."
Bianca’s heart stopped. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Her son’s words weren’t possible—yet they were too precise to be ignored.
The curse had touched him too. She realized, with dawning horror, that Jackson wasn’t just special because of his magical eyes. He was a vessel for truths beyond her comprehension.
******
Morning came with golden sunlight spilling over the Morano estate.
True to his word, Luca prepared a private picnic for Alessia in the vast garden.
The Morano garden wasn’t just a display of wealth, it was a fortress of beauty. Roses the color of blood bloomed beside pale lilies, fountains whispered secrets as water danced, and the air carried the perfume of life untouched by violence.
Alessia wore a simple dress, white and flowing, her hair loose in the wind.
Luca, dressed casually for once, couldn’t take his eyes off her.
"You don’t belong to shadows," he said, setting down the basket of wine and fruit. "You belong here in the sun, in laughter, in the parts of me that no one else will ever touch."
Her lips curved in a soft smile. "You make me believe that, Luca."
He picked up a hockey stick from the field beside the garden. "Then believe me a little more. Come, I will teach you something new."
Alessia laughed, her joy spilling like music..
She let him place the stick in her hands, guiding her grip, standing close enough that his breath brushed her neck.
"Focus, amore," he teased. "Aim... target... strike."
She swung, clumsy but determined, missing the mark. He chuckled, adjusting her stance. "Again."
Their laughter tangled in the air, a fleeting escape from the chaos of their lives.
Alessia had never seen him like this playful, light, boyish in a way that stripped the mafia boss from his skin and revealed only the man who belonged to her.
And for a while, they forgot. They forgot the book, the curse, the betrayals.
They forgot Bianca’s shadow, Enzo’s schemes, Seraphina’s frozen wrath.
But peace never lasted long in the Morano world.
The sudden roar shattered their laughter.
A helicopter descended behind them, blades slicing the air into a storm.
Dust and petals scattered as guards rushed from the estate, weapons raised.
In one fluid motion, the man from the helicopter drew his gun.
But Alessia’s breath caught when he swung not at the sky, not at the intruders but at her.
His face hardened, unreadable. His eyes, usually her anchor, were now steel. "Don’t move."
"Why are you pointing that at me?" she whispered, her heart thundering.
Before he could answer, the helicopter door flung open.
Boots hit the ground. And out stepped a man Alessia thought she would never see again.
The world tilted.
The man was tall, dangerous, carrying the kind of authority only men who had killed for power possessed.
His gaze locked on Alessia, burning with a hunger that chilled her more than any curse.
It was Marcello, the mafia boss who had once claimed to love her, at first sight on her wedding anniversary with Luca.