CHAPTER 132: THE TEST — FINAL STAGE

The Morano estate slept beneath a false calm.

From the highest balcony of the west wing, Luca watched the dawn crawl like spilled fire over the horizon, its pale light spilling through the fog that hung low over the courtyard.

He hadn’t moved in hours.

Below, the guards shifted in silence, their boots sinking into gravel that once echoed proudly through these halls.

Even the birds dared not sing. The Rite of Silence had that effect—it stretched its shadow beyond the chamber, bleeding into every corner of the estate until sound itself became an unwelcome trespass.

He could almost feel it—the pulse of that chamber deep beneath the manor, where stone met soul and secrets met judgment.

Where she was.

His woman —Alessia.

Luca’s fingers tightened around the railing.

The metal bit into his palms, grounding him, anchoring him to something tangible. It had been hours since they’d taken her below, since Lauretta’s - his mother’s cold words still echoed in his mind: "If she is truly one of us, she will return."

And if she wasn’t...

He refused to finish that thought.

The door behind him creaked open.

The sound was soft, but in the suffocating hush of the morning, it was enough to make his pulse jump.

"Luca."

The older woman vera—a maid who worked in his house approached, her dark gown trailing like a whisper of mourning.

Her expression, as always, was unreadable—years of command had chiseled every trace of warmth from her face.

"She endures," she said simply, as though reading his unspoken worry.

"How do you know?" He asked.

"The Chamber speaks," Vera replied. "To those who’ve once survived it." Her gaze drifted beyond the horizon, to where the city slept beneath a haze of secrets. "If she breaks, we’ll know. If she conquers it..." Her lips twitched faintly. "Then the Council will have no choice but to acknowledge her."

Luca exhaled, tension threading through the breath. "And how did you know all of this? I feel terrible... If you were to be me, would you made her walk that path knowing what it would do to her."

"yes i will" Lauretta said, unflinching. "Because she carries something this family hasn’t seen in decades—conscience. And conscience must either be forged into strength... or broken."

"Into obedience," Luca corrected bitterly.

Vera’s eyes flicked toward him. "You sound like your father Don luca."

He turned sharply, but she was already walking away, her silhouette swallowed by the archway’s shadow.

The sting of her words lingered long after she was gone.

He raked a hand through his hair, jaw clenched. He’d faced death, betrayal, and war under the Morano name—but this? This waiting, this helplessness? It was a quieter kind of torment.

The Council’s emissaries would arrive by dusk. And if Alessia failed, they would not hesitate to replace her. The Morano legacy demanded perfection, not sentiment.

And yet—

Every time Luca closed his eyes, he saw her face, the defiance and the quiet fire that had once drawn him to her against every rule he had been taught.

He’ had told himself marrying her was a strategy—an alliance.

But that lie had shattered long ago.

Somewhere deep beneath the manor, the earth trembled.

A low, muted pulse rippled through the ground—faint, but unmistakable.

Luca’s head snapped toward the courtyard.

The guards had stopped moving, their faces turned toward the direction of the old catacombs.

It seemed like the Rite was ending.

He didn’t wait for permission, start the car... End of testing Alessia’s faith, end of this madness is she is worthy of the moranos name..... I’m going to get my woman back home.

*********

The descent through the lower halls felt endless.

The air grew heavier with every step, thick with the metallic scent of old stone and older blood.

When he reached the antechamber, two guards moved to block his way.

"My lord, the chamber is still..... "

"I know what it is," Luca cut in, voice low, dangerous. "Open it now. "

They hesitated, but the weight of his name silenced any protest.

The lock turned, and the ancient door groaned open.

The air that spilled out was cold enough to sting.

And then—she emerged.

Alessia stepped out of the darkness like a revenant from some forgotten myth.

Her skin glowed faintly under the torchlight, damp with sweat and streaked with ash.

Her eyes were teary, her eyes were not the same.

They carried silence now, but a silence that obeyed her.

Lauretta morano was already waiting at the threshold, her gaze cool but not unkind.

"You survived," she said.

Alessia’s voice came out rough, strained, but steady. "Barely."

"That’s all survival ever is," Lauretta replied, pressing the new emblem into her hand—a dark cloth woven with the Morano serpent entwined around a white rose.

Luca stepped forward, heart in his throat. "Alessia..... "

Her gaze found him instantly.

Something flickered there relief, exhaustion, something deeper but she stood tall, unbroken.

Lauretta morano watched them both, eyes narrowing with the faintest trace of something that might have been satisfaction. "The Council will summon her at dusk, The Final Rite awaits."

Luca’s jaw tightened. "But she just narrowly survived two.... "

"Then she is ready for the next and final one." Lauretta turned and left, her robes whispering over the floor like closing wings.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Alessia let out a slow, trembling breath. "It wasn’t just silence, Luca," she murmured. "It was... everything I have ever feared, every regret made flesh."

He moved closer, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. "And you faced it."

"I had to." Her fingers closed around the emblem. "They think silence breaks you. They don’t understand—it teaches you to listen."

"To what?" luca said locking his gaze unto hers.

She met his gaze. "To truth."

**********

By the time dusk bled across the estate, the Council had gathered.

Six figures in dark robes seated in a semicircle, their faces hidden behind silver masks engraved with sigils of their bloodlines.

At the center stood the Morano crest—two serpents coiled around a dagger, the symbol of power, loyalty, and sacrifice.

Luca stood at the edge of the chamber, unseen but not unfeeling.

Every word spoken here would determine their future.

Alessia entered in silence, her steps steady though her heart pounded. She bowed once, not as a servant, but as one who knew her worth.

"Alessia Morano," one of the Councilors began, voice sharp as steel. "You have endured the Rite of Silence. Few emerge sane, fewer still remain loyal, tell us..... what did the Silence show you?"

Her eyes flicked up, calm. "Myself."

A murmur rippled through the Council.

"And what did you learn?" another asked.

"That fear is a mirror," Alessia said. "It shows you what you think you are not strong enough to face. But strength isn’t the absence of fear—it’s standing still while it claws at your throat."

The masked figures exchanged glances.

Luca’s chest swelled with something dangerously close to pride.

A third voice spoke, older, colder. "You speak of courage but courage without loyalty is rebellion. The Morano oath demands sacrifice. Tell us—what will you give?"

Alessia’s fingers brushed the emblem at her chest.

"My blood, if I must. My truth, if it serves the family. But not my soul."

Silence followed heavy and electric.

Then the eldest Councilor leaned forward. "Then let the final test begin."

The torches dimmed, casting long shadows over the marble floor.

And from the darkness, a figure stepped forward—hooded, carrying a blade that gleamed like moonlight.

Luca’s breath caught.

Because he recognized that blade.

The emissary’s voice cut through the silence. "The Trial of the Heart begins now, which is also the mark of blood and the final stage of the test... "