The night felt much longer after Enzo Moretti left my room.
I was still standing in front of the door, staring at its tightly sealed surface as though looking at it long enough might help me find a way to open it. But nothing changed. The door remained locked, the guard was still outside, and the sound of the waves continued in the distance, reminding me that I really was aboard a ship sailing to who knew where. I drew a deep breath, but the air entering my lungs felt heavy. My hands had still been cold ever since my meeting with Enzo a few minutes ago. I tried to convince myself that this was all just a nightmare. Maybe I would wake up in my own room a few minutes from now, see the familiar ceiling, hear the sound of vehicles from the street in front of my house, and realize that everything that had happened was merely a hallucination caused by the accident. But when I pinched my own arm and pain immediately shot through it, that hope collapsed. I really was here. I really had been kidnapped. And the man who had kidnapped me was someone called Don.
I walked to the bed and sat down slowly. My eyes drifted back to the large window across the room. The sea at night looked vast and dark. Every so often, the moonlight was covered by clouds, leaving the world outside the window almost completely black. I had no idea how far this yacht had taken us. I didn't even know whether anyone was looking for me. Did my family know I was missing? Had the police started searching? Had anyone seen what happened before I lost consciousness? The questions spun endlessly through my head until I felt even more suffocated. I tried to remember what had happened right before everything went dark. I remembered walking home. I remembered a black car stopping not far from me. After that, someone had been behind me. Then a strange smell filled my nose. My body went limp. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. After that, everything went dark. If they really were the ones who had taken me, then this kidnapping had been planned with incredible precision.
I got up and began checking the room once again. This time, I wasn't looking for my phone or any of my belongings. I was looking for something that could give me information. A room this large had to contain something. I opened the wardrobe. It was filled with new clothes in various sizes. Evening gowns, casual clothes, even several pairs of shoes. Everything looked as though it had been chosen specifically for me. I froze when I realized it. This wasn't a room prepared at the last minute. Someone had prepared everything before I arrived. They even knew my measurements. I touched one of the gowns with my fingertips, then quickly pulled my hand back as though the fabric were burning me. An uneasy feeling spread throughout my body. How long had they been planning all this? And how much did they know about me?
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
I tensed.
"Who is it?"
There was no answer.
Another knock sounded.
This time, the door opened from the outside and a woman entered. Unlike the armed men who had come with Enzo earlier, she wore simple black clothes and carried a tray of food. She looked to be around fifty. Her face was calm, but there was wariness in her eyes. Without saying much, she placed the tray on the small table beside the bed.
"I don't want to eat," I said.
The woman looked at me for a moment.
"You have to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"Don Moretti ordered you to eat."
I turned toward her immediately.
"So everyone here just follows his orders?"
The woman didn't answer.
I walked closer.
"Who is he, really?"
The woman hesitated.
"Don Moretti."
"I know that. I mean, who is Enzo Moretti?"
The woman let out a quiet sigh.
"You really don't know?"
"I don't even know why I'm on this yacht."
She stared at me for a long moment before finally saying, "Then it's better if you don't try to find out too much."
I gave a humorless little laugh.
"How am I supposed not to find out? I've been kidnapped and brought to the middle of the sea."
The woman lowered her gaze.
"My name is Sofia."
"Alena."
"I know."
Her answer left me silent again.
Even this servant knew my name.
Sofia turned to leave, but I hurriedly asked, "Wait. What about my family?"
She stopped.
"Do they know I'm here?"
She didn't answer.
"Sofia."
The woman finally turned around.
"I'm not allowed to discuss Don's affairs."
"At least tell me if I'm going to be sent home."
Sofia looked at me with an unreadable expression.
"If Don says you'll go home, you'll go home."
"And if he doesn't say it?"
Sofia fell silent.
Her answer only frightened me more.
She left the room, and the door closed again.
I stared at the food on the table. My appetite was completely gone, but my stomach felt empty. I didn't know when I had last eaten. After arguing with myself for several minutes, I finally sat down and began touching the food little by little. It tasted good—too good for food given to a prisoner. I even felt irritated that the people who had kidnapped me were treating me so well. If they had been cruel from the start, maybe it would have been easier to hate them. But this luxury felt like a golden cage.
I had just finished eating when the door opened again.
This time, it wasn't Sofia.
Enzo entered.
Alone.
He wasn't carrying any guards with him.
I stood up immediately.
"Why are you here again?"
Enzo closed the door behind him.
"I want to talk."
"I don't want to talk to you."
"I know."
He walked closer and sat in the chair near the window, while I remained standing several feet away from him.
"Why did you kidnap me?" I asked.
Enzo looked at me.
"I've already answered that question."
"Your answer wasn't enough."
"What exactly do you want to hear?"
"The truth."
For a while, he said nothing.
Then Enzo said, "All right."
His tone changed.
It became more serious.
"My name is Enzo Moretti. I'm the head of the Moretti family."
"And the Moretti family is..."
"Mafia."
The word came out so calmly that it sent a chill through me.
I stared at him.
"So it's true."
"Yes."
"Why me?"
Enzo leaned back in his chair.
"Because your family has ties to mine."
I frowned.
"My family has nothing to do with the mafia."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course."
"Your father's name was Adrian?"
I froze.
How did he know my father's name?
Enzo watched me intently.
"You know him."
"Of course I do. He's my father."
"And you were never told about his past?"
I shook my head.
"My father died when I was little."
Enzo's expression shifted faintly.
"I know."
Those two words made my chest tighten again.
"You know about my father?"
"More than you think."
I stepped closer.
"What was your relationship with my father?"
Enzo didn't answer right away.
He looked at the sea through the window.
"Your father once worked with my family."
I was confused.
"Worked with you on what?"
"That belongs to the past."
"Then why should I have to bear the consequences?"
Enzo looked back at me.
"Because the past never truly dies, Alena."
I fell silent.
"And now someone is looking for you."
"Who?"
"The same person who murdered your father."
The world seemed to stop.
I couldn't say a word.
For years, all I had known was that my father had died in an accident. At least, that was what my family had always told me. No one had ever mentioned murder.
"My father wasn't murdered."
Enzo didn't answer.
"I said my father died in an accident."
"That's the story you were given."
I shook my head hard.
"No."
"Alena."
"Don't lie!"
My eyes burned.
"Don't use my father to justify kidnapping me."
Enzo stood up.
"I'm not lying."
"Then prove it."
His gaze turned cold.
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because if I tell you everything now, you won't be ready."
I laughed bitterly.
"I've already been kidnapped, locked up on a mafia yacht, and brought to the middle of the sea. Do you really think I'm still not ready?"
Enzo fell silent.
I glared at him angrily.
"I hate you."
I didn't know why saying those words felt so important.
Enzo looked at me for a long time.
"I know."
"And I'll find a way to leave."
"I know that too."
"I'll never trust you."
For the first time, a small smile appeared on his face.
"We'll see."
He walked toward the door.
But before leaving, he stopped.
"The yacht will arrive at an island tomorrow morning."
I looked at him.
"What island?"
"Where I live."
I immediately felt uneasy.
"Why are you taking me there?"
Enzo turned his head.
"Because this yacht isn't a safe place to keep you."
"And your home is safer?"
"Much safer."
I wanted to argue, but Enzo had already opened the door.
He stopped once more and said without turning around,
"Alena, starting tomorrow, you'll see a world you never knew existed."
The door closed.
I stood alone in the silence.
His words continued echoing in my head.
A world you never knew existed.
I stared at the sea outside the window.
That night, I finally understood that my kidnapping wasn't the end of a problem.
Quite the opposite.
It was the beginning of a great secret my family had hidden from me all these years.
And without realizing it, the man I most wanted to avoid had become the only person who knew the truth about my past.