☆Chapter 2 – The House of De Luca☆

Amelia had expected many things when she left the orphanage with Lorenzo De Luca.

She expected fear. Control. Maybe even violence.

But what she hadn't expected… was silence.

The De Luca mansion was nothing short of breathtaking. A sprawling estate on the outskirts of the city, hidden behind towering gates and an army of security cameras. The driveway was lined with neatly trimmed hedges, and the scent of dry dust filled the air as the car approached the entrance.

The mansion itself was a masterpiece of modern architecture, all sharp angles, glass, and steel, standing cold and unwelcoming.

But to Amelia? It was a far cry from the damp, suffocating walls of the orphanage.

The car came to a smooth stop in front of the grand entrance. A butler, impeccably dressed in a black suit, stood at attention by the door.

"Welcome home, Mr. De Luca," the butler greeted with a respectful bow. His gaze flickered toward Amelia, but he said nothing.

Lorenzo didn't respond. He merely stepped out of the car, his expression cold and unreadable. Amelia followed quietly, her small feet making barely a sound on the polished marble floor as they entered the mansion.

The Cold Reality

The mansion was silent.

Servants moved about like shadows, efficient and invisible. No one spoke unless spoken to.

And Lorenzo?

He didn't speak to her.

Not. A. Word.

Days turned into weeks, and in that time, Lorenzo barely acknowledged her existence. He left early and came home late. When he was home, he was buried in paperwork or on calls that sounded far too dangerous for a child to overhear.

Amelia quickly realized that she was… invisible to him.

Good.

It gave her time to observe, to adapt. She learned the layout of the mansion, memorized the schedules of the staff, and discovered the small corners where she could disappear when she needed solitude.

But most importantly—she learned about him.

Lorenzo De Luca was a workaholic. His life revolved around his empire. Mafia deals, business ventures, and maintaining the iron grip his family had on the underworld. He was cold, calculated, and ruthlessly efficient.

No romantic life. No emotional connections.

And now… no interest in being a father.

Amelia understood it all too well.

He hadn't adopted her because he wanted to.

He had done it because he had to.

☆☆☆

The truth came to light one evening when Amelia found herself wandering the mansion's vast halls. She had stumbled upon Lorenzo's office, the door left slightly open.

She hadn't intended to eavesdrop.

But the voice inside stopped her in her tracks.

"Lorenzo," a deep, gravelly voice rumbled, filled with authority. "You can't avoid this forever."

"Nonno," Lorenzo's tone was clipped, impatient. "I don't need a family. I have the business to handle. That's where my focus belongs."

"Focus," the older man scoffed. "You're 25. Still unmarried. No heir. Do you think this empire will hold itself together when you're gone?"

Silence.

"I'm not asking you to fall in love," the older man continued. "But you need a family, Lorenzo. A legacy."

There was a long pause before Lorenzo spoke again, his voice colder than usual.

"So, I adopted a child. Problem solved."

"A child?" The older man's tone was filled with disbelief. "Do you even know her name?"

Silence stretched again.

Amelia's heart clenched.

Of course, he doesn't.

"Fix it, Lorenzo," his grandfather ordered. "She's a De Luca now. Treat her as one."

☆☆☆

The next morning, Lorenzo summoned her to his office.

Amelia sat in the oversized leather chair across from his desk, her small frame dwarfed by the luxury surrounding her.

Lorenzo sat behind the desk, as composed and distant as ever. His dark eyes barely flickered as they landed on her.

"We need to give you a name," he said flatly, his tone more like a business transaction than a personal decision.

Amelia tilted her head slightly. "Amelia isn't good enough?"

Lorenzo's jaw tightened. "De Luca tradition," he said, as if that explained everything.

Tradition.

Of course.

For the De Lucas, everything was about legacy and appearances.

He pulled out a piece of paper, a list of names neatly written in perfect script.

"Pick one," he said, sliding the paper across the desk.

Amelia's eyes scanned the list. The names were strong, regal—Italian.

Sofia. Isabella. Alessandra.

But one name caught her eye.

"Serafina."

She spoke it softly, her fingers brushing over the name as if testing its weight.

Lorenzo's gaze flickered, but his expression remained impassive.

"Serafina De Luca," he murmured, almost tasting the words.

A name that commanded respect.

"Fine." His tone was indifferent, but Amelia saw the subtle nod of approval.

Serafina De Luca.

A new identity. A new life.

☆☆☆

Despite Lorenzo's coldness, there was one person in the mansion who didn't treat her like a ghost.

Don Vincenzo De Luca.

Lorenzo's grandfather.

The man who had forced Lorenzo to adopt her.

Don De Luca was nothing like his grandson. Where Lorenzo was cold and detached, Vincenzo was warm and charismatic, though no less dangerous.

"Serafina," he greeted her the first time they met in the mansion's grand library, his voice laced with genuine interest. "Do you like chess?"

Amelia's lips twitched. "I'm familiar with the game," she replied softly, her eyes scanning the neatly arranged pieces on the board.

"Good." He smiled, his gaze twinkling with amusement. "Then play with me."

Amelia didn't hesitate.

Their first game lasted an hour.

Vincenzo won.

But barely.

The second game? Amelia won.

By the third game, she had learned his strategies, his patterns.

Vincenzo was no fool. He recognized her brilliance quickly.

"You're sharp, bambina," he chuckled after their fifth game, where she had decisively beaten him in under thirty minutes.

"Luck," she replied with a small, practiced smile.

"Don't lie to me, Serafina," Vincenzo murmured, his gaze piercing through her facade. "You're far too clever for that."

Serafina held his gaze.

For the first time since her reincarnation, someone saw her.

And she liked it.

☆☆☆

Lorenzo didn't comment on her growing bond with his grandfather.

But he noticed.

He noticed the way Vincenzo praised her. The way she had effortlessly slipped into his good graces.

Lorenzo's indifference was a shield, but beneath it, there was something else.

Irritation.

Serafina didn't mind.

If Lorenzo thought ignoring her would make her fade into the background, he was wrong.

She wasn't going anywhere.

She was a De Luca now.

And if Lorenzo wasn't going to treat her like family…

She'd make her place known.

One move at a time.

Like a game of chess.

And she never lost.