The scream sliced through the Moretti dining room and climbed all the way up to the crystal

Six months passed.

Spring had arrived in Columbus, painting the historic district in vibrant shades of green and blooming cherry blossoms. The cobblestone streets outside Elena’s new townhouse were quiet, lined with quaint coffee shops, art galleries, and historic brownstones.

Elena stood in the sunlit kitchen of her townhouse, pouring fresh coffee into a porcelain mug. She wore a simple cream-colored knit sweater and jeans. Her left arm had healed completely, leaving only a faint, silver line near her elbow—a quiet reminder of a life she had left behind.

Her younger brother, Leo, sat at the wooden dining table, surrounded by textbooks and his laptop, typing furiously.

“How’s the mid-term paper coming?” Elena asked, setting a plate of warm blueberry muffins beside his books.

Leo looked up, a bright, energetic smile spreading across his face. “Almost done! Professor Vance said my thesis on international trade laws was one of the best in the class.” He grabbed a muffin, taking a huge bite. “I still can’t believe this is real, El. A year ago, we were living in a basement apartment with broken heat, and now...” He gestured to the spacious, sunlit living room. “It feels like a dream.”

Elena smiled, running a hand gently through her brother’s dark hair. “It’s real, Leo. You just focus on studying.”

Her eyes drifted to the small, framed photograph sitting on the mantlepiece—a picture of her and Leo taken during his university orientation. Beside it sat a small, elegant silver fountain pen.

It was a gift Gabriel had sent her three months ago, accompanied by a simple note: For your new journey.

Gabriel had kept his word. He hadn't pressed himself into her life, nor had he demanded anything in return for his generosity. But his presence was an undeniable thread running through her daily existence. Every month, Marco would stop by the townhouse to deliver fresh coffee beans from Gabriel’s private import stash, or check on the building’s security system. And twice a month, Gabriel himself would have his driver pull up to the quiet street, where he and Elena would take long, quiet walks through the park nearby.

During those walks, Elena discovered the man behind the terrifying reputation. She learned about his childhood, about the heavy burden of carrying a dangerous family name, and about his quiet, private passion for architecture and classical art. In turn, Gabriel listened to her talk about her dreams of opening a small floral boutique in the city.

A quiet knock at the front door interrupted her thoughts.

Leo moved to get it, but Elena waved him down. “Stay focused on your paper. I’ll get it.”

Elena walked to the front door, expecting Marco or a package delivery. She pulled the heavy wooden door open with a warm smile that instantly froze on her face.

Standing on her porch, wrapped in a trench coat, her dark hair hidden under a wide-brimmed hat, was Victoria Whitaker.

Camille’s mother looked hollowed out. The arrogant, pristine socialite who had sat at Gabriel’s dinner table six months ago looked ten years older. Her face was pale, her eyes bloodshot and desperate.

“Elena,” Victoria whispered, her voice cracking.

Elena instinctively took a step back, her hand gripping the edge of the door. “Mrs. Whitaker. What are you doing here? How did you find my address?”

“It doesn't matter how I found it,” Victoria pleaded, stepping closer to the threshold, her hands clasped together in desperation. “Please... you have to help us. You're the only one who can talk to him.”

Elena frowned, her voice hardening. “Talk to who? To Mr. Moretti?”

“He’s destroying us, Elena!” Victoria cried out, tears welling in her tired eyes. “My husband’s firm is in receivership! Our home in Maine was foreclosed on last week! Camille... Camille can’t even show her face in public because every club and board has blacklisted her! Gabriel is systematically wiping my family off the map!”

Elena stood straight, looking at the woman who had sat by and watched her daughter burn a servant with hot tea without uttering a word of protest.

“Mr. Moretti is doing what he thinks is necessary, Mrs. Whitaker,” Elena said coldly. “Your family treated people like bugs they could step on without consequence. Now you're facing the consequences.”

“We made a mistake!” Victoria sobbed, reaching out to grab Elena’s hand, but Elena pulled back. “Camille was foolish! But we are ruined, Elena! Please... call Gabriel. Tell him you forgive her! Tell him the debt is settled! If you ask him, he’ll stop! Everyone knows he listens to you!”