Chapter 1 - The Wedding That Was Meant To Become A Funeral
The first thing Elena Moretti noticed was the rain.
Not the kind of rain that belonged to a romantic wedding scene, the kind poets wrote about and photographers tried to capture through expensive lenses. This was a cold, relentless storm that turned the streets of the city into rivers and blurred every light outside the windows of St. Lorenzo Cathedral.
It felt like the sky itself was warning her.
Four hours earlier, Elena had been standing in front of a mirror, surrounded by white flowers, silk fabric, and the excited voices of people who believed they were preparing her for the happiest day of her life.
They were wrong.
The woman staring back at her in the mirror looked like a bride.
But deep inside, Elena felt like a prisoner waiting for the door to close.
Her wedding gown was everything she had dreamed of since she was a child.
Six months of work had gone into every detail. Every pearl, every silver thread, every delicate piece of lace had been placed by her own hands. Before she became the daughter of a powerful mafia family, before people whispered her last name with fear, Elena had dreamed of becoming a designer.
She wanted to create beautiful things.
Not be used as one.
The dress was supposed to represent a new beginning.
Instead, it became the outfit she would wear while running for her life.
Elena touched the embroidered sleeve gently, remembering the countless nights she had spent sewing until her fingers ached.
She had imagined walking down the aisle with confidence.
She had imagined Marco Duca looking at her like she was the only woman in the world.
She had imagined a future.
But all of those dreams shattered in less than five minutes.
Because Elena heard the truth.
And once she heard it, there was no way back.
The bridal suite had been quiet that afternoon.
Too quiet.
Her maid of honor, Isabella, had left the room to bring champagne before the ceremony started. Elena had been alone, adjusting the final details of her veil, when voices came from the hallway.
At first, she thought it was just another wedding preparation.
Then she heard Marco’s voice.
Her fiancé.
The man she was about to marry.
The man whose hand she was supposed to hold in front of hundreds of guests.
The man who had looked into her eyes that morning and promised her forever.
His voice was different.
Cold.
Empty.
“She won’t be a problem after today,” Marco said.
Elena froze.
Her fingers stopped moving.
She stood completely still beside the door, barely breathing.
Another man laughed quietly.
“Are you sure you want to do this? She’s Moretti’s daughter.”
Marco answered without hesitation.
“That’s exactly why.”
Elena felt something inside her collapse.
The hallway suddenly seemed too small.
The air disappeared.
“She’s useful alive for the marriage,” Marco continued. “But once the families are connected, she becomes a risk.”
Elena covered her mouth with one hand.
She wanted to believe she misunderstood.
She wanted to believe there was another explanation.
There wasn’t.
Marco continued speaking.
“The accident will happen after the wedding. A car failure. A fall. Something believable.”
The other man asked, “And her father?”
Marco laughed.
“Her father will blame Volkov.”
The name made Elena’s blood turn cold.
Adrien Volkov.
The most dangerous rival of the Moretti family.
A man whose reputation alone could silence entire rooms.
Marco continued.
“Once Cassian Moretti believes Volkov killed his daughter, both families will destroy each other. While they’re busy fighting, we take control.”
Elena pressed her back against the wall.
Her wedding day.
Her future husband.
Her funeral.
All planned together.
The worst part was not the betrayal.
It was realizing Marco had never loved her.
She had been a piece on a chessboard.
A way to start a war.
The sound of footsteps approaching forced Elena to move.
She grabbed the small emergency bag she kept hidden in the room and quietly escaped through the servants’ entrance of the cathedral.
She did not call her father.
She did not call her friends.
She did not call anyone from her family.
Because deep down, she knew the truth.
No one would believe her.
Her father, Cassian Moretti, was a powerful man.
But he was also a man who had spent six months negotiating this marriage.
The alliance with the Duca family meant money, influence, and power.
If Elena walked into his office claiming Marco wanted to kill her, would he believe his daughter?
Or would he believe the agreement he had built his empire around?
She could not risk finding out.
So she ran.
Through dark streets.
Through rain.
Through the city where every person connected to her family could become a danger.
And there was only one place she could go.
The home of the one man powerful enough to stop everyone.
The man her family hated.
Adrien Volkov.
The gates of Volkov Mansion opened slowly as Elena approached.
The enormous estate stood above the city like a fortress.
Dark stone walls.
Security cameras.
Guards hidden everywhere.
A place no enemy would dare enter.
Which was exactly why Elena chose it.
Her wedding heels slipped against the wet pavement as she crossed the entrance.
The white dress that had looked perfect hours earlier was now damaged.
The bottom was covered with dirt.
The silk was torn.
Her veil hung loosely from her hair.
She looked nothing like the bride everyone expected.
She looked like someone who had escaped death.
The moment she stepped inside the mansion, everything changed.
The warmth disappeared.
The silence became heavier.
Three men in black suits appeared from the shadows.
They recognized her immediately.
Not because they knew her personally.
Because everyone in their world knew the Moretti name.
One of them raised his weapon.
“Stop right there.”
Elena stopped.
Her heart slammed against her chest.
She lifted her hands slowly.
“I need to see Adrien Volkov.”
The guards exchanged looks.
One of them stepped closer.
“You came into his home wearing a wedding dress?”
Elena swallowed.
“I didn’t come here to hurt anyone.”
The weapons remained pointed at her.
Then footsteps echoed from above.
Slow.
Calm.
Controlled.
Every guard immediately became still.
Elena looked up.
And for the first time that night, she saw the man she had risked everything to find.
Adrien Volkov stood at the top of the marble staircase.
The crystal chandelier above him reflected against his black suit.
He looked exactly like the rumors described.
Powerful.
Cold.
Impossible to read.
His gray eyes studied Elena carefully.
The ruined wedding dress.
The fear in her expression.
The desperation she was trying to hide.
He slowly walked down the stairs.
Each step felt louder than the rain outside.
When he reached the middle of the staircase, he stopped.
“Erasing all possible doubts,” he said quietly, “you chose my house as your escape route.”
Elena looked directly at him.
She refused to cry.
Not in front of him.
Not in front of anyone.
“They’re going to kill me.”
The guards tightened their grip on their weapons.
Adrien’s expression did not change.
“Who?”
Elena took a breath.
And said the name that had destroyed her entire world.
“Marco Duca.”
For the first time, something changed in Adrien’s eyes.
Not fear.
Not surprise.
Interest.
“Explain.”
His voice was calm.
But Elena understood immediately.
This man did not waste words.
So she gave him the truth.
“Four hours ago, I was supposed to marry him.”
The rain continued crashing against the windows.
“He wasn’t planning a marriage.”
She looked at the guards around her.
“He was planning my murder.”
The room became silent.
Elena continued.
“He wants my father to believe you killed me. He wants both families to go to war.”
Adrien stared at her.
Analyzing.
Calculating.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Elena almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because she knew how impossible it sounded.
“I expected you not to.”
She looked down at her ruined dress.
“But you’re the only person in this city who benefits from stopping his plan.”
Adrien walked down another step.
“And why should I protect the daughter of my enemy?”
Elena met his eyes.
“Because if Marco succeeds, you lose everything.”
A long silence followed.
The guards waited for Adrien’s order.
Elena waited for her fate.
Finally, Adrien spoke.
“Tell me exactly what you heard.”
Elena closed her eyes for a moment.
Then she repeated every word.
Every threat.
Every plan.
Every detail of the betrayal.
And when she finished, Adrien remained silent.
But something in his expression had changed.
Because Adrien Volkov had spent his entire life surrounded by lies.
He knew what manipulation looked like.
He knew what fear looked like.
And standing in front of him was not a woman trying to start a war.
It was a woman running from one.
Adrien looked toward his guards.
Then back at Elena.
The next words he spoke changed everything.
“Lower your weapons.”
The guards hesitated.
Then slowly obeyed.
Elena released a breath she did not realize she was holding.
But Adrien’s eyes remained focused on her.
Because he knew one thing.
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If Elena Moretti was telling the truth, then someone had just declared war on both of their families.
And whoever started it was willing to sacrifice a bride on her wedding day to win.
