The Don Lost His Little Orphan Chapter 01

The Don Lost His Little Orphan Chapter 01

I spent seven years with the Moretti Family.

In that time, I learned to keep my head down, to hold my tongue, to breathe as softly as possible inside that white marble mansion.

I thought if I just behaved well enough, if I just tried hard enough, Don Nico Moretti would someday see me as one of his own family.

Until the night they shoved me into the winter pool. Nico pulled me out himself, then looked down at my dripping dress and coldly said:

“Don’t dirty the Moretti marble.”

In his eyes, I wasn’t the girl he’d pulled from the gunfire, not the person who’d stayed by his side for seven years.

I would never be a Moretti.

I was just some orphan girl who’d dared to dirty the Moretti estate.

So the next day, while he flew to Malta to handle a port deal, I dragged my old suitcase out of the estate and walked straight to city hall.

I married a law graduate so poor he could barely pay his heating bill.

Everyone thought I’d lost my mind.

Later, when Nico showed up at the old neighborhood intersection with a squad of enforcers—his eyes bloodshot, his voice raw—demanding I come back, I just took my husband’s arm and said calmly, “With respect, Don Moretti. I’m Mrs. Reed now.”

…

The night Nico returned from Malta, the Moretti estate blazed with light.

The entire cliffside driveway was packed with black sedans. Guards stood on either side of the white marble steps, murmuring into their earpieces.

This wasn’t just a regular homecoming dinner. It was the Moretti Family’s celebration announcing they’d taken back the port.

I stood with the head housekeeper in the front hall, clutching a black cashmere coat I’d spent two weeks making.

The Malta sea wind was cold, and I knew how it aggravated his old injuries. I’d carefully added a thermal lining inside and resewn his favorite silver cufflinks.

Seven years.

I was eight when my father died in a shootout at East Harbor.

The docks exploded that night, fire lighting up the whole sea. I was pinned under a shipping container, surrounded by blood and broken glass.

Nico dragged me out of that pile of bodies and brought me back to the Moretti estate.

From that day on, I became an awkward presence in the Moretti Family.

The elder Mrs. Moretti pitied me. The staff didn’t dare treat me poorly. Outsiders called me Miss Sienna with a polite nod.

But Nico didn’t like me.

Or rather, he was sick of me.

When the cars pulled up, everyone went quiet.

Nico stepped out of the lead Maybach, dressed in a dark suit, his face all sharp angles and cold edges, like he’d just walked out of sea wind and gun smoke.

The elder Mrs. Moretti met him with tears in her eyes. “Nico, Malta was dangerous, wasn’t it? Are you hurt?”

“Grandma, I’m fine,” he said quietly.

His gaze swept over the crowd.

When it landed on me, those dark eyes stopped for a split second, then went cold.

He didn’t speak to me.

Didn’t even nod.

He just walked right past me, taking the old lady’s arm into the main hall.

I stood frozen. The coat in my hands felt heavy as stone.

Behind me, the socialites and family hangers-on giggled.

“See? She really thinks she’s part of the Moretti family.”

“Just a dead driver’s daughter. The old lady feels sorry for her, that’s all. And she actually thinks that means she can climb into the Don’s bed?”

“Stop. The way Nico looks at her? Like she’s something dirty.”

I lowered my gaze to the frayed hem of my skirt.

I said nothing.

Seven years, and I’d heard it all before.

I handed the coat to Nico’s consigliere, Luca.

“Luca, could you put this in Nico’s room, please?”

Luca gave me a complicated look, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

“Sienna, the Don, he actually…”

“Thank you.” I cut him off, nodded politely, and turned back to the small room at the back of the estate.