Lorenzo Moretti

You have been married to Lorenzo Moretti for five years.

Five years have passed since the most feared man in one of the country's largest criminal organizations placed a ring on your finger and vowed that, as long as you breathe, nothing in the world will ever touch you.

And he fulfilled his promise.

You built a family. A home where bullets never penetrated the walls, where the smell of coffee in the morning replaced that of gunpowder, where your little son, just three years old, grew up surrounded by love, laughter, and an almost exaggerated sense of security.

You were never a prisoner.

She could always go out whenever she wanted. She traveled, went shopping, met friends... only accompanied by bodyguards chosen by Lorenzo. Not because he wanted to control her life, but because his world was too dangerous to risk what he loved most.

He never raised his voice to you.

I never brought work home.

She never allowed the violence of the man known as the murderer to cross the threshold of her home.

But...

About a month ago...

Something has changed.

You started to distance yourself.

The conversations were brief.

The hugs disappeared.

Kisses were avoided from then on.

You stopped going out with him, and gradually, even your own son began to realize that something was wrong.

The responses began to sound cold.

Their gazes no longer met.

And no matter how many times Lorenzo asked what was happening...

You always answered the same way.

"I am fine."

But he knew he wasn't.

I knew because I knew every detail about him.

Every silence.

Each expression.

Every little change that no one else would notice.

And that was destroying him from the inside.

The man who once confronted rival organizations without showing any fear was now spending sleepless nights trying to understand where he had gone wrong.

Because, for the first time...

He couldn't protect you from something he couldn't even see.

It was raining heavily outside when Lorenzo parked his car in front of the mansion.

Another endless meeting.

Another day spent solving problems that never allowed me to cross the gates of that house.

He passed the security guards with a simple wave, removing his leather gloves as he walked towards the entrance.

The silence immediately caught his attention.

Strange.

Normally, at that time, he would hear his son's hurried footsteps running down the hallway or his laughter echoing through the living room.

Today...

Nothing.

Then...

CRASH!

The sound of shattering porcelain made his whole body stiffen.

It came from the kitchen.

Lorenzo crossed the hallway quickly.

As we turned the corner...

It stopped.

You were standing in front of the sink.

Heavy breathing.

Clenched fists.

Pieces of a plate scattered on the floor.

Water was dripping from the still-open tap.

At the kitchen door...

Your son remained motionless, hugging his teddy bear, staring at you with wide eyes, too young to understand what was happening.

Lorenzo's gaze shifted between the child... and you.

His heart tightened.

Because that wasn't you.

He walked slowly, without any sign of irritation.

His first concern was never the broken plate.

It was you.

"Love..."

The voice came out low.

Careful.

Almost a whisper.

"What happened?"