CHAPTER 129: THE TEST

The voice sliced through the morning calm like a blade through silk.

"It’s not yet time to welcome you home, my dear." The voice said again.

Alessia froze. The mist curled around her ankles, cool and damp, but it was the chill in her blood that rooted her in place.

She knew that voice. Smooth but yet very commanding and wrapped in elegance, sharp enough to wound.

Madam Lauretta Alessandro Morano stepped out from the veil of olive trees like a ghost materialized from memory.

Her coat was black, her gloves pristine, her silver hair pinned with surgical precision.

The matriarch of the Morano family—Luca’s mother, the Council’s whisperer—looked every inch the queen of old sins.

"Mother," Luca said, his voice taut. It wasn’t surprise that colored it, but something harder—resentment, guilt, and restraint fighting for dominance.

"Madam lauretta," Alessia whispered. Her hand instinctively found Luca’s.

The woman’s gaze flicked to their joined fingers, lingering there like a scalpel before moving up to Alessia’s face.

"You still hold his hand," Lauretta said softly. "Even after everything your presence has brought upon this family."

Alessia wanted to answer, but her throat was dry.

Luca stepped forward, positioning himself slightly in front of her, his body forming a quiet shield.

"She’s been through enough," he said. "If you came here to judge her, you have wasted your journey."

Lauretta’s smile was thin, knowing. "Judgment is not mine to pass, Luca. You of all people should understand that. The Council has spoken."

Luca’s jaw clenched. "The Council has no right to touch what’s mine."

A faint glint flickered in Lauretta’s eyes—something between admiration and pity. "You forget, my son. Nothing in our world truly belongs to us. Not even love."

The air between them crackled with unspoken war.

Alessia felt it, how words could wound more deeply than bullets in this family.

Lauretta took a measured step closer, her heels sinking into the wet soil. "The Council contacted me three nights ago," she said. "They are displeased. Your wife has drawn too much attention. Too much blood has been spilled in her shadow."

Alessia’s pulse quickened. "I never wanted this.... "

"But you brought it," Lauretta cut in. "Intention is irrelevant in our world, dear. Only consequence."

Luca’s voice hardened. "You think she should pay for surviving?"

"I think," Lauretta said coldly, "she should prove she is worthy of the Morano name."

A stillness fell over the vineyard. The only sound was the whisper of wind brushing the leaves. Alessia’s heart thudded painfully against her ribs.

"What are you saying?" Luca demanded.

Lauretta’s gaze shifted to Alessia, sharp and unwavering. "The Council demands a test. A trial by loyalty."

Alessia swallowed. "A test?"

Lauretta nodded. "Every woman who marries into power must face it when the family’s stability is questioned. You are no different."

Luca took a step forward, fury simmering beneath his calm exterior. "No one has invoked the old rites in decades."

"Desperation revives old traditions," Lauretta replied simply. "The Council believes your marriage has divided alliances. They want proof—proof that Alessia stands not only as your wife but as a Morano in blood, loyalty, and will."

Alessia’s stomach turned cold. "And if I fail?"

Lauretta’s lips curved slightly. "Then you will be erased. From the records, from the legacy, and away from him."

Luca’s hand tightened around Alessia’s. "Over my dead body."

Lauretta’s eyes softened for the briefest second. "Perhaps. But the Council’s decision is binding. Refusal would mean exile for both of you."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Alessia could feel Luca’s heartbeat through his grip—fast, furious. Yet beneath the anger, she saw fear. Not for himself, but for her.

"What kind of test?" Alessia asked finally, her voice steadier than she felt.

Lauretta studied her with something resembling curiosity. "There are three stages," she said. "Each designed to measure the essence of who you are—and what you are willing to sacrifice."

She began to pace slowly, her words deliberate, echoing with the gravity of old power.

"The first is the Trial of Truth. You will be brought before the Council and questioned about your past, your loyalties, your intentions. Every lie will cost you something you hold dear."

"The second is the Rite of Silence. For twenty-four hours, you will be confined in isolation, surrounded by the echoes of your own fears. The Council will watch, waiting to see whether you break... or bend."

"And the third," Lauretta paused, her eyes locking onto Alessia’s, "is the Mark of Blood. A task chosen by the Council’s Head. It may demand loyalty, it may demand loss. You will not know until it begins."

Alessia felt her chest tighten. The words tasted like iron on her tongue. "And if I endure all three?"

Lauretta’s tone softened. "Then you will be welcomed—not as a guest, but as one of us. Your children will inherit the Morano name without question. And your place beside Luca will be untouchable."

Luca shook his head. "No. I won’t allow them to put her through this madness."

Lauretta turned to him, her expression turning from cold to weary. "You forget who you are, my son. You were born to lead a family built on blood and fear. The Council forged you, as they forged me. Defy them, and you risk annihilation."

He met her gaze, defiance burning bright. "Then let them come."

Lauretta sighed, the faintest tremor betraying her calm. "You are too much like your father," she murmured. "Pride before caution."

Her eyes drifted to Alessia again, and for the first time, there was something almost human there. "I did not come here to destroy you, child, I came to warn you. The Council already watches and they know you have been moved. They will send for you tonight."

Alessia’s breath caught. "Tonight?"

"Yes." Lauretta stepped closer, close enough that Alessia could smell the faint perfume of lilies and smoke. "Prepare yourself. When they summon you, do not look to Luca for help. This is your test, not his."

Luca’s fists clenched. "You can’t just... "

Lauretta’s hand rose, silencing him with a look only a mother could command. "I can, and I must. You want her safe? Let her fight for it. If she survives, the Council will have no reason to touch her again."

"And if she doesn’t?" Luca whispered.

Lauretta’s expression was unreadable. "Then I’m afraid of something terrible that may happen... And it means something very bad."

The words struck like lightning—cold, cruel, inevitable.

Alessia’s knees weakened, but she stood her ground. Somewhere beneath the fear, something fierce sparked alive inside her.

"I will face them," she said quietly.

Luca turned sharply to her. "No, You don’t have to.... "

"Yes, I do," she interrupted, her voice gaining strength. "If I run, they will never stop. If I stay, maybe I can end it, I think if I truly loved you showing proving my love and worth for the whole world isn’t what I should be afraid of. "

For a long moment, Luca said nothing. The struggle in his eyes was unbearable—duty warring with love. Finally, he cupped her face, his voice low. "Then I will be waiting when you come back. No matter how long it takes."

Lauretta watched them, her expression softening by a fraction. "Then it’s settled."

She turned toward the car that had just pulled into the edge of the vineyard. Two men in dark suits stepped out—Council emissaries, silent as the grave.

"The moment you enter their custody, the test begins," Lauretta said.

Alessia straightened, her hand still in Luca’s. The wind carried the scent of rain and earth—familiar, grounding, fragile.

She looked at him one last time, memorizing the shape of his face in the dawn light.

"Trust me," she whispered.

Then she stepped forward.

The men opened the car door. Lauretta nodded once, approvingly, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of something dangerously close to pride.

As Alessia slid into the car, she glanced out the window—at Luca standing alone among the mist and vines, his hand closing around the silver locket she’d once lost.

The door shut with a soft, final click.

The engine started.

And as the car disappeared down the dirt road, Lauretta murmured to herself, voice barely audible over the hum of the morning wind....

"She doesn’t know yet... the test has already begun....."