Chapter 5 - Whispers in the Grand Hall
The Moretti estate on the Upper East Side was a massive limestone mansion that looked like a European fortress.
High iron gates sealed the property off from the rest of Manhattan, guarded by broad-shouldered men in dark suits.
Enzo led Sophia through towering mahogany doors into a foyer decorated with marble floors and oil paintings.
The air inside was heavy with the scent of old wood, beeswax candles, and an unmistakable, suffocating tension.
Servants in dark uniforms walked quickly past with lowered heads, moving like ghosts through the grand corridors.
"Mrs. Moretti is in the conservatory," Enzo said quietly, guiding Sophia up a sweeping spiral staircase.
When Sophia stepped into the sunlit glass room, Elena was sitting in a high-backed velvet armchair.
Beside her stood a tall, sharply dressed woman in her late fifties with cold, calculating blue eyes.
"Sophia," Elena said, her tired face instantly lighting up with genuine warmth. "You actually came."
"I promised I would cook for you, ma'am," Sophia replied, offering a polite, respectful smile.
The cold woman beside Elena stepped forward, assessing Sophia with a glare that felt like sharp glass.
"So this is the waitress from Tribeca," the woman spat, her voice dripping with aristocratic disdain.
"I am Victoria Moretti, Dante’s aunt," she announced, stepping closer to inspect Sophia’s simple attire.
"We do not allow street staff to wander freely through this household without proper security clearance."
"Victoria, leave the girl alone," Elena snapped, her voice carrying a sudden, formidable weight.
"She speaks the old language. She knows the old ways. That makes her more honorable than half the people in this city."
Victoria glared at Sophia with pure venom before sweeping out of the room, her high heels clicking loudly.
"Ignore her," Elena murmured, reaching out to take Sophia’s hand. "She fears anything she cannot control."
"Now, tell me... do you know how to make arancini the way Nonna Rosa made them?"
Sophia smiled softly, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease slightly. "With saffron rice and wild ragù?"
May you like
Elena smiled warmly. "Precisely."
From the doorway behind them, Dante stood watching quietly, his arms crossed over his massive chest.
