We are one of the five powerful families who control Italy. The other families are Lanza, Borgia, Sforza, and the Foscari.
Power, bloodlines, archaic alliances…that is all my family—and the other four families—care about. A feud had erupted between our family and the Foscari, but in our world, grievances can be mended if bloodlines are united…
For that reason, before I was even born, I was promised to a Foscari for a grand marriage that would unite two great Italian families, putting an end to past injustices. But when I was seventeen, I fell in love with a boy who was not my intended. Foolish, young, and drunk on first love, we married in secret beneath the stars. We plotted and planned how to flee, wishing to escape the bonds of our social classes. We chose love over family and obligation.
When the Foscari learned of my betrayal, they found and murdered my husband—your father—in cold blood. After the punishment was complete, the families still wished to join our bloodlines and even though I was no longer a virgin, the Foscari were willing to forge ahead with the marriage. Secrets can be kept within families, but a public failure to unite the bloodlines was impermissible.
Grieving the loss of my love, I was numb to everything around me. I had plans to go through with the marriage. After all, I saw the power of the Foscari firsthand, the brutality of them. What choice did I have?
But then I realized I was pregnant with you.
For myself, I was willing to be a sacrificial lamb. But God knows what they would’ve done if they’d realized I was pregnant with a peasant’s child. The child of a man they had no qualms about murdering. What would they do to you to protect their own family name, their own legacy?
I went to the Catholic Church to seek guidance, and there I crossed paths with a nun, Sister Agatha, who was sympathetic to my situation. She saw my marriage to your father as valid in the eyes of God and believed her duty was to protect you and me from such horrible people at all costs. You were not even born yet, but she knew what would happen when you were. Risking her own life, she helped me escape to the United States and stayed with me here until you were more than a year old. I changed my last name to Miller, wanting nothing more than to disappear and to blend in, leaving the Moretti name behind forever. I wanted to shield you from what I feared most in this world…
I know it sounds like I’ve lost my mind, but you need to trust me, Sterling. It’s all so very real.
I know how hard it’s been all these years, never settling down long enough for you to form lasting friendships, never letting you get too close to anyone except for Tiffany. Against my better judgement, I let you have one summer. A golden summer of fun and laughter. It was dangerous, but necessary. I’ve never seen your smile so carefree as I did that summer. Tiffany saved you in a way that I couldn’t.
I’m sorry I had to rip you away from that small glimmer of normal life. I’m sorry for the years of animosity between us, but I hope you can understand why it had to be this way.
You are in great danger, Sterling.
The Foscari have never stopped hunting me, and even though I’ve managed to evade them, they finally found Sister Agatha. Something went wrong. A slip of the tongue, a comment in passing, someone she knew who had connections back home. She died a horrible death to try to protect us, but no one can withstand torture. She knew you were alive, knew your given name, and she had already seen you begin to grow as a child. There was no hiding your eyes from her…
You have a genetic trait called heterochromia. That in and of itself is not unheard of, but once or twice every generation, a Moretti woman is born with one turquoise colored eye and the other a vibrant green. It wasn’t random like I told you when you were a child.
Though Sister Agatha knew about your Moretti trait, that was all she knew. She couldn’t lead them directly to you, only tell them that twenty-four years ago, I had born a healthy baby girl.
But I know everything. What you look like as an adult, where you’ve lived in the past, people you’ve known, everything. If they find me, they’ll torture me until I tell them where you are.
And Tiffany? I can’t let your best friend get hurt too. If the Foscari find me, you’ll both be in danger.
You must disappear. You have to acquire a new identity. Leave everything and everyone you know behind. Sever all ties. Say nothing of your life, me, or anything you know to be true about who you are. Conceal your eyes from the world. Don’t speak Italian and try to blend in. If you must, use the information I’ve given you to avoid anyone connected with the Foscari and never look back.
The Foscari have been wronged and I don’t want to imagine your future if they find you.
There are some things worse than death.
This next part is the most important of all—you cannot go to my family. The Moretti will not protect you. They would rather turn you over to the Foscari to honor their debt than they would defend you. Even though you’re only half Moretti, they still value your bloodline. I have dishonored the family in an irrevocable way, and I have no doubt they’ll make you pay for my sins.
I left Italy to give you a chance to live. I left Italy because I didn’t want anyone to use you as a pawn to further their agenda of seeking wealth and power.
I’m so sorry, la mia bellissima figlia. I’m so sorry to leave you with such a bitter truth. I chose love when I married your father, and now I’m afraid that following my heart has changed the course of your life.
I love you more than you can possibly know. I wish I could’ve given you more. A father. A family. A home.
I never told you his name, but that never stopped you from wanting to know about him. Your father’s name was Gianni Russo, and he would’ve loved you more than anything in this world. He was a good man, Sterling. The blood of him is within you, but so is that of a Moretti.
I have left you all that I have—twenty thousand dollars in cash to help you disappear. I’m sorry it couldn’t be more.
Be safe, be smart, and above all, survive.
All my love,
Your mother
* * *
I crumbled the note in my hand so I wouldn’t see the streaky ink of her words, smeared from the tears she’d shed while writing the letter, and smeared once again from my own.
When I was done crying, I flattened the paper and read it over and over. Names from the letter stared angrily back at me. Moretti. Foscari. Russo. Compagnia Bianca del Falco.
Guilt and shame over ignoring her phone calls and attempted overtures over the years clawed at me. I finally understood why she’d been relentless in trying to get my attention, but anger from my childhood had clouded everything that had to do with her.
My mind whirled in an attempt to process the truth. How was I supposed to reconcile her sacrifices? Everything she’d done had been to make sure I lived. She’d protected me at every turn. But because of her secrets, our relationship had been tainted. At eighteen, I’d left the house and never looked back, tired of the excuses and nonsensical nature of our lives. Nothing had made sense.
It made sense now.
I cried for the loss of her, not just for her death, but for the years of misunderstandings. Why hadn’t she told me earlier? Why hadn’t she told me the truth? Why had she waited until there was six years of silence between us before coming clean? Would I have been brave enough at eighteen to even hear the truth?