The Moretti Heiress

"Back to Hell—I Mean, College."

Three weeks.

Three fucking weeks.

That's how long Serena had been stuck in this giant mansion with nothing to do except eat, sleep, and occasionally remind herself that she wasn't, in fact, a prisoner.

At first, it had been... okay. Kind of nice, actually.

Weird. But nice.

Luca, Adrian, Dante, and Nico had all been making an effort. Not in a way that screamed, Look at us! We're good now! Please forgive us! but in subtle, genuine ways that she couldn't ignore.

Adrian would leave snacks on the library desk—her favorite ones—and then pretend like he had no idea what she was talking about when she called him out.
Dante had started checking up on her more often, always with some casual excuse like, "Just passing by. Don't get used to it."
Luca was... still Luca. Stern, intimidating, with that permanent disappointed dad energy. But his orders had softened. His tone had, too.

And Nico?

He was trying. And, honestly, that was enough.

So yeah, the family bonding had been great. Healing, even. But despite all that warm, fuzzy progress—

Serena was so bored she could feel her brain cells deteriorating.

She needed out. Now.

And with her mind set on freedom—or, at least, freedom disguised as a return to college—she made a beeline for Alessandro's office, her stride brimming with confidence.

This was it. She had her arguments lined up. She'd rehearsed her points. She was ready for battle.

Then she reached his door—

And all that confidence?

Gone.

Her hand hovered over the wood as nerves suddenly crept in.

Alessandro had been reasonable lately (for the most part), but when it came to her health? The man was basically a brick wall.

Still... she had to try.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked.

"Come in."

His voice was deep, authoritative, but... warm. That threw her off a little.

Serena pushed the door open and peeked inside. Alessandro was seated at his massive oak desk, glasses perched on his nose as he sifted through what looked like endless stacks of paperwork. His gaze lifted when he saw her—and instantly softened.

Uh-oh.

That look?

That was the Dad look.

She was so not winning this.

"Serena?" His voice was calm, patient.

She shifted nervously. "Uh, so... I've missed, like, three weeks of college, and I need to go back tomorrow."

Alessandro didn't even blink. "No."

"Wait, what?" Serena blinked. "Just like that? No?"

"You're still recovering." His tone left no room for debate.

Serena groaned, throwing her hands up dramatically. "I have been recovering! That's the problem! I've done nothing but recover. I'm basically a glorified houseplant at this point."

Alessandro raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I doubt that."

"I'm serious! If I stay here any longer, I'm going to lose my mind—or what's left of it." She stepped closer to his desk, leaning forward with the most pleading expression she could muster. "Please, Alessandro. Just a few hours. I promise I'll take it easy."

Alessandro sighed, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. She could practically see the internal battle raging behind his eyes. He hated this. She knew he did. He'd just started getting used to having her home, where he could protect her. And now she wanted to go back out into the world where he couldn't?

Yeah. He hated this.

But he also knew her.

She wasn't going to stop pushing.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Alessandro sighed again, heavier this time. "Fine."

Serena's eyes widened. "Wait... really?"

"Yes." Then, pointing a stern finger at her like a proper Italian father, he added, "But if you feel even the slightest bit unwell, you call me. Immediately. No arguments."

Serena grinned. "Yeah, yeah, no problem."

"I mean it, Serena," Alessandro warned. "You push yourself too hard, and you'll be back here for another week. Or more."

"Got it. Loud and clear."

Alessandro gave her a look that clearly said I don't trust you, but I'll allow it anyway.

Serena just smiled innocently.

As soon as she stepped out of his office, she let out a triumphant fist-pump.

"Fucking victory."

She turned the corner—

And almost ran straight into Adrian.

He raised an eyebrow. "What are you so smug about?"

"Winning," Serena said, grinning.

Adrian narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You conned him, didn't you?"

"Excuse me," she said, offended. "It's not conning. It's negotiating."

Adrian smirked. "Right. And I'm the Pope."

"Whatever. The point is—I'm going back to college tomorrow."

Instantly, his smirk vanished, replaced by a deep frown. "You shouldn't be pushing yourself."

"Oh my God, not you too," Serena groaned. "Can I just have one win without you guys treating me like I'm made of glass?"

Adrian crossed his arms, his expression stubborn. "No."

She glared.

He stared back.

A silent battle of wills.

Then—

"I'm still going," Serena said defiantly.

"Fine."

She blinked. That was... easy. Too easy.

"...Fine?"

"Yes."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why do I feel like there's a catch?"

Adrian's lips curved into a mischievous smirk. "Because there is."

"Dare I ask?"

"Oh, you'll see."

And with that, he walked away—leaving Serena standing there, suspicious as hell.

What the fuck did that mean?

She had a bad feeling about this.

She was definitely going to regret this, wasn't she?

A/N:

Serena: I won!
Adrian: Did you, though?

Y'all... place your bets. What's Adrian planning?
Also, can we take a moment to appreciate how Alessandro went from Cold Mafia Dad to Overprotective Italian Father? The character growth. 

What do you think? Is Serena walking straight into trouble? (Spoiler: Yes. Yes, she is.)