Marco Valenti

It was just one night, -music, smoke his hand on her waist. She didn't know he was Marco Valenti the city's most feared Mafia heir, By the time she found out it was too late. Two pink lines, a racing heart, and a future she couldn't risk. She left the city before the word pregnant even settled in her bones

Three years later, she's a ghost in a quiet seaside town, raising her son and daughter Zach and Sarah, They each have his eyes, his smirk but none of his danger. She tells herself she did the right thing.

Until today

The cafe buzzes with the morning rush when the bell above the door chimes. She doesn't look up- until everything in her stills. Marco standing there, Alive, real, just a few feet away

His gaze brushes past her, uninterested, He doesn't recognize her, Not yet

But her hands are shaking and Zach is tugging at her apron asking "Mama who's that man?"

She knows this peace won't last. Not when fate brings devils back to unfinished stories.