Chapter 8 Chains of Silk
The next morning dawned with a false serenity. Pale sunlight spilled through the tall glass windows of the D’Angelis estate, but Seraphina felt no warmth in it. The house was still, too still, like a stage before the actors arrived.
Her mother’s summons had come at breakfast. A single knock, a servant’s trembling bow, and then the words: “The Don and Donna request your presence in the study.”
Seraphina’s chest tightened, though her face betrayed nothing. A study was never a place for affection. In the mafia world, it was a place for negotiations, deals, and death sentences disguised as contracts.
She rose, smoothing the fabric of her black dress, the Phantom’s mask sliding back over her features. If her parents thought they had rescued a docile daughter, they were about to learn otherwise.
---
The D’Angelis study smelled of leather and smoke. Dark shelves lined the walls, filled with books no one read, trophies of power rather than knowledge. At the center, a polished mahogany desk stretched like a battlefield between her parents and herself.
Alessandra sat elegantly behind it, wine in hand despite the early hour. Vittorio stood at her side, looming like a shadow given flesh.
“Sit,” Alessandra commanded.
Seraphina did not. She remained standing, her chin lifted. “If this is my home,” she said coolly, “I do not need orders to sit.”
Vittorio’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of amusement, or warning. Alessandra’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t press. Instead, she leaned back, studying Seraphina with the precision of a jeweler examining a rare gem.
---
“You wonder why we came for you,” Alessandra began, her voice smooth, like silk wrapped around steel.
Seraphina crossed her arms. “The thought crossed my mind.”
Her mother’s smile was cold. “The answer is simple; family legacy. A bloodline like ours is not meant to vanish into obscurity. You were born not to hide in filth but to secure what is rightfully ours.”
Her stomach clenched. Here it comes.
Vittorio’s deep voice rumbled like distant thunder. “An alliance has been negotiated. You will marry into the Moretti syndicate.”
The words dropped like a blade between them.
---
For a heartbeat, Seraphina forgot to breathe. Marriage? After years of silence? After abandoning her to fend for herself?
She laughed, sharp and bitter, the sound cutting through the room. “So that’s it? You dragged me out of the shadows, not because I’m your daughter, but because I’m a bargaining chip?”
Alessandra’s lips curved into something cruel. “Don’t be dramatic. This is an honor. Damiano Moretti is heir to one of the most powerful syndicates in Europe. Together, your marriage will solidify a bond that ensures our empire’s survival.”
“Our empire?” Seraphina hissed, taking a step closer. “What empire? The one you let burn while you abandoned your child? Or the one you think you can rebuild on the bones of my freedom?”
Vittorio’s expression hardened, the warmth of fatherhood nowhere in his gaze. “You will do as you are told. This marriage is not negotiable.”
---
Seraphina’s pulse roared in her ears, but outwardly she stood still as stone. Inside, the girl who had longed for family shriveled, replaced by the Phantom who had ruled an empire of orphans.
She forced her lips into a smile. “And if I refuse?”
Alessandra’s voice dropped to a whisper, venomous and sweet. “Then you will learn that blood binds tighter than chains. We can give you the world, Seraphina or take it from you.”
Her mind flashed to Milo, to the children who depended on her. She had left them vulnerable, believing she was coming home. But now she saw the truth; she hadn’t returned to her family. She had walked into a gilded prison.
---
Her mother’s tone shifted, becoming almost mocking. “The ceremony is already being planned. Damiano Moretti will meet you soon enough. He is not a man one refuses.”
Seraphina caught the flicker of unease in her mother’s eyes as she spoke the name. Even Alessandra, venomous as she was, feared the man her daughter was being chained to.
“Damiano,” Seraphina repeated, the name curling like smoke on her tongue. She had heard whispers in the underground, rumors of a ruthless prince whose empire was built on blood and fire. But she had dismissed them as myths, the kind men spun to frighten children.
Now, she realized, those myths were about to become her reality.
---
Her laughter this time was softer, colder. “You abandoned me once. And now you dare to return only to sell me like cattle?”
Alessandra’s eyes flared. “Careful, Seraphina. You are not in the gutter anymore. You are in the world of kings and queens. Play your role, or be crushed beneath it.”
Seraphina’s smile sharpened like broken glass. “I am not your pawn. And if you think you can bind me with silk chains, you’ve forgotten the child you left behind. She doesn’t break. She burns.”
The silence that followed was electric, charged with fury and fear. For the first time, her parents looked at her not as a tool, but as something they couldn’t fully control.
---
That night, Seraphina stood by the tall window of her new room, staring out at the moonlit gardens below.
She had left her empire for this, for a cold house and colder parents, for a marriage that was nothing more than a cage.
Her reflection in the glass stared back at her: sharp eyes, unyielding jaw, the Phantom reborn.
They wanted her to be an asset.
They had no idea she was a weapon.
And weapons… did not bow.
