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Chapter 8 - The Threat That Came After the Wedding

They married quietly the following spring.

Only family.

Friends.

A small garden ceremony.

No reporters.

No weapons.

No grand speeches.

Renata wore a simple ivory dress.

Lorenzo wore a dark suit.

When she reached him, he whispered,

"Perfect timing."

She smiled.

"For once."

Everything seemed peaceful.

Then the letter arrived.

No sender.

Inside was a photograph of a little girl.

Five years old.

Renata stared.

"Who is she?"

Lorenzo's face changed.

"Adrian's daughter."

She looked at him.

"Adrian has a daughter?"

He nodded.

He had never mentioned her.

The child's mother had been killed during the old conflict.

The girl had been hidden.

Now someone had found her.

The message said:

THE FAMILY ISN'T FINISHED.

Renata's heart sank.

They found the child at a remote school.

She was frightened.

Silent.

Clutching a stuffed rabbit.

Renata knelt beside her.

"What's your name?"

"Elena."

"Do you know where your father is?"

She shook her head.

"He said he'd come back."

Adrian appeared behind them.

The child ran into his arms.

Renata watched the reunion.

It reminded her of all the lives damaged by secrets.

She made a decision.

She wanted Elena to have something different.

A home.

Not a safe house.

Not a life spent hiding.

Adrian agreed.

He moved near the foundation.

Lorenzo became Uncle Lorenzo.

Renata became Aunt Renata.

Elena loved the bakery.

She liked chocolate.

She hated strawberries.

Lorenzo found this personally offensive.

One afternoon, Elena asked him,

"Are you scary?"

He crouched beside her.

"Sometimes."

"Are you scary to Aunt Renata?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because she isn't afraid of me."

Elena looked at Renata.

"Are you?"

Renata smiled.

"Not anymore."

That evening Lorenzo kissed her.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For giving my family a home."

"Our family."

He smiled.

"Our family."

The threat eventually vanished.

The remaining enemies were arrested.

The old organization dissolved.

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The final accounts were closed.

And the past slowly stopped controlling the present.

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