I’m Alessandro, and every single morning, I follow the exact same routine. I walk into my estate’s kitchen at 6:15 AM sharp, read through the overnight security reports, and drink one cup of espresso before anyone else wakes up. Honestly, it’s the only peaceful ritual I have left in my life. The kitchen always smells amazing—like warm bread, polished marble, lemon oil, and fresh coffee. Pale sunlight was coming through the windows, making everything look completely ordinary.

My espresso cup was literally inches from my lips.

Then, out of nowhere, a tiny voice breaks the silence.

“Check your coffee, sir.”

It wasn’t a security alarm going off. It wasn’t one of my armed guards yelling a warning. I turned around, and there was a sleepy three-year-old girl standing barefoot in the doorway, clutching this worn-out gray stuffed rabbit to her chest.

The entire room just froze.

Until she spoke, everything was perfectly normal. She was wearing a faded yellow nightgown that was way too big for her. Dark curls framed her pale face, and her massive brown eyes were locked onto the steaming espresso in my hand.

She did not look frightened. She looked worried.

PART 2:

The new cook stood motionless beside the stove, a silver spatula suspended over a pan of eggs. A young maid kept one hand submerged in soapy water, afraid even to move her fingers.

Alessandro slowly lowered the cup.

“What did you say?” he asked.

The little girl pointed at the coffee.

Then at him.

Then back at the cup.

“Check your coffee, sir.”

Before anyone could react, the laundry room door burst open.

“Emma!”

Sophia Alvarez rushed into the kitchen, panic written across her face. She wore the estate’s gray housekeeping uniform, one sleeve rolled unevenly as though she had dressed in a hurry.

The moment she saw her daughter standing only a few feet from Alessandro, all color drained from her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” she stammered. “She wasn’t supposed to leave the laundry room. My babysitter canceled, and I couldn’t afford to miss another day. I’ll take her away immediately.”

“Wait.”

Alessandro’s calm voice stopped everyone.

Sophia froze.

He crouched until he was level with Emma. The untouched espresso remained in his hand.

“What made you say that, little one?”

Emma hugged the stuffed rabbit tighter.

“It smells funny.”

Alessandro looked down at the cup.

To him, it smelled exactly as it always did.

Dark.

Rich.

Bitter.

“Funny how?”

Emma glanced toward her mother, as though asking permission to speak.

Sophia’s lips parted, but no sound emerged.

The kitchen had become so quiet that the ticking clock in the hallway sounded impossibly loud.

Emma swallowed.

Then whispered the words that transformed an ordinary breakfast into something terrifying.

“It smells like Daddy’s medicine.”

Alessandro’s eyes narrowed.

“What medicine?”

“The one Daddy drank before he went to sleep.”

She paused.

Her small fingers tightened around the rabbit’s torn ear.

“And never woke up.”

The porcelain cup suddenly felt much heavier in Alessandro’s hand.

Around him, every servant stared at the espresso.

No one dared breathe.

Alessandro rose slowly.

“Marco.”

One of the guards near the kitchen entrance stepped forward.

“Seal the house. No one leaves.”

The cook dropped the spatula.

It struck the floor with a metallic crash.

Alessandro turned his attention to him.

The cook’s name was Emilio Russo. He had been hired less than two weeks earlier after Alessandro’s longtime chef suffered a sudden heart attack.

Emilio lifted both hands.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“I did not accuse you.”

“But you’re looking at me like—”

“Like a man whose coffee may have been poisoned.”

The cook’s mouth closed.

Marco took the cup and placed it inside an evidence container.

Alessandro’s head of security, Matteo Rinaldi, entered moments later. Tall, broad-shouldered, and scarred along the left side of his jaw, Matteo had served the Duca family for eighteen years.

He was also Alessandro’s closest friend.

“What happened?”

Alessandro nodded toward Emma.

“The child smelled something in my coffee.”

Matteo glanced at the girl.

“A child?”

“Her father died after taking medicine that smelled the same.”

Sophia stepped forward.

“Sir, Emma is only three. She may be confused.”

Emma shook her head immediately.

“No.”

Sophia knelt beside her.

“Sweetheart—”

“It was the same,” Emma insisted. “Like metal and flowers.”

Matteo’s expression changed.

He looked sharply at Alessandro.

“Metal and flowers?”

Alessandro recognized the look.

“What?”

“There’s a compound called aconitine,” Matteo said. “Derived from monkshood. In certain preparations, it has a bitter floral odor. It disrupts the heart rhythm. Death can resemble cardiac failure.”

Every face in the kitchen turned toward Emilio.

The cook backed against the stove.

“I swear I only prepared the espresso. The beans were already in the machine. The water was already filled.”

“Who entered the kitchen this morning?” Matteo asked.

“Only me, the maids, and Mrs. Conti.”

At the mention of the name, Alessandro’s gaze hardened.

Mrs. Conti had managed the Duca estate for more than twenty-five years. She had served Alessandro’s father before him and had practically raised Alessandro after his mother died.

She was trusted more deeply than most blood relatives.

“Find her,” Alessandro ordered.

Matteo dispatched two guards.

Sophia reached for Emma.

“We should go.”

“No,” Alessandro said.

Her eyes widened.

“You and your daughter remain here until I understand what happened.”

“Sir, please. Emma has nothing to do with this.”

“She may have just saved my life.”

Sophia looked down at her child.

Emma had already grown distracted by a sunbeam on the floor, moving her rabbit through the light as though the adults around her were not discussing murder.

Alessandro studied them both.

Sophia was twenty-eight, according to her employment file. A widow. Recently hired. No criminal history. No known connection to the Duca family.

Yet she had smuggled her daughter into one of the most heavily guarded estates in northern Italy.

And that daughter had identified a poison no adult had noticed.

Coincidences were luxuries Alessandro had stopped believing in years ago.

The estate physician arrived within twenty minutes.

Tests confirmed the espresso contained a powerful cardiac toxin.

Enough to kill Alessandro before an ambulance could reach the gates.

The news spread through the mansion like cold air.

Every employee was searched.

Every door was locked.

Every security recording from the previous twelve hours was collected.

Mrs. Conti was found in the pantry, unconscious but alive, with a bleeding wound behind her ear.

Someone had attacked her shortly before dawn.

That cleared her of suspicion.

It also proved the poisoner had been inside the estate long enough to understand the household routine.

Alessandro gathered his senior staff in the library.

Sophia sat near the fireplace with Emma asleep against her shoulder.

Matteo placed photographs, access records, and employee files across the long table.

“The camera covering the kitchen corridor went offline at five forty-eight,” he explained. “Someone manually disconnected it from inside the security room.”

Alessandro looked at him.

“Who has access?”

“You. Me. Marco. Mrs. Conti.”

“And the technician?”

“Only with supervision.”

Marco stood near the door, his face tense.

“I was at the front gate from five until six thirty. The logs confirm it.”

“They can be altered,” Matteo said.

Marco’s jaw tightened.

“So can security footage.”

Alessandro raised one hand, silencing them.

“Emilio?”

“No access to the security room,” Matteo replied. “But he has gambling debts and received two large cash transfers last week.”

The cook was dragged into the library moments later.

He looked close to collapse.

“I didn’t poison anyone.”

Alessandro placed the transfer records in front of him.

“Who paid you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Wrong answer.”

“It came through anonymous accounts.”

“What were you paid to do?”

Emilio began sweating.

“No one paid me to poison you.”

Alessandro leaned forward.

“Then tell me what they paid you for.”

The cook stared at the floor.

“To leave the back service door unlocked.”

The room went still.

“When?” Matteo demanded.

“Three nights ago. Someone contacted me through an encrypted message. They said they only wanted access to steal documents. They promised no one would be harmed.”

“You believed them?” Marco snapped.

“I needed the money.”

Alessandro’s voice became dangerously soft.

“Who entered?”

“I never saw their face. They wore a maintenance uniform and a cap. They were inside for less than an hour.”

Matteo looked toward the fireplace.

Sophia had gone rigid.

Alessandro noticed.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“You reacted.”

Sophia shook her head.

“I’m only frightened.”

Emma stirred in her arms.

The gray rabbit slipped from the child’s fingers and landed on the carpet.

A faint metallic click came from inside the toy.

Matteo heard it.

So did Alessandro.

He rose.

“What is inside that rabbit?”

Sophia’s face transformed.

Not into fear.

Into terror.

She seized the toy before Matteo could reach it.

“Please.”

Matteo drew his weapon.

“Put it on the table.”

Emma woke and began crying.

“No! Bunny!”

Sophia held the rabbit against her chest.

“It isn’t dangerous.”

“Then put it down,” Alessandro said.

Her eyes filled with tears.

“You don’t understand.”

“Make me understand.”

For several seconds, she appeared trapped between surrender and escape.

Then she slowly placed the rabbit on the table.

Matteo cut open a seam along its back.

Inside the stuffing, he found a tiny digital recorder and a silver flash drive wrapped in plastic.

Marco grabbed Sophia’s arms.

She did not resist.

Alessandro stared at the device.

“Who are you?”

Sophia looked at Emma before answering.

“My name is Sophia Alvarez.”

“That is not what I asked.”

Her shoulders collapsed.

“My husband’s name was Daniel Cross.”

Matteo’s face sharpened.

Alessandro recognized the name too.

Daniel Cross had worked as a forensic accountant for the Duca shipping empire. Two years earlier, he had been accused of stealing eight million euros and selling confidential records to a rival syndicate.

Before he could be arrested, he died from an apparent overdose.

The stolen money was never found.

“You are Cross’s widow,” Alessandro said.

Sophia nodded.

“I kept my maiden name after he died.”

“You applied for work in my house under a name that concealed your connection to a man who betrayed me.”

“My husband did not betray you.”

“Evidence said otherwise.”

“Evidence planted by the person who killed him.”

Matteo placed the recorder on the table.

“And this?”

“Daniel hid it in Emma’s rabbit the night before he died. I didn’t know it was there until six months later, when the stitching came loose.”

Alessandro picked up the flash drive.

“What’s on it?”

“Copies of financial records. Shipments. Payments. Names.”

“Whose names?”

Sophia looked directly at him.

“People inside your organization who have been stealing from you for years.”

Matteo gave a humorless laugh.

“And instead of taking this to the police, you took a housekeeping job here?”

“I tried the police. The detective assigned to Daniel’s death disappeared three weeks later.”

Alessandro turned toward Matteo.

“Check the drive.”

Matteo connected it to an isolated laptop.

The first files showed shell companies, false invoices, and diverted shipments.

Millions had been stolen from Duca accounts.

But the real shock came from the audio recorder.

Daniel Cross’s exhausted voice filled the library.

“If you’re hearing this, I’m probably dead. The theft goes higher than Alessandro realizes. Someone close to him is using the company to move weapons and narcotics without his approval. I found payments tied to judges, police commanders, and politicians.”

The recording crackled.

Then Daniel spoke a name.

But the audio distorted at that exact moment.

Only the first syllable could be heard.

“Mat—”

Every eye moved toward Matteo.

His expression did not change.

“That could be any name.”

“Matteo,” Marco said coldly. “There are not many people close to Alessandro whose names begin that way.”

Matteo stepped away from the computer.

“This is absurd.”

Sophia’s voice trembled.

“Daniel told me before he died that the traitor was someone Alessandro trusted more than a brother.”

Matteo turned toward her.

“And you conveniently appear here with a child who somehow detects poison?”

Emma began crying again.

Sophia pulled her closer.

Alessandro looked at his oldest friend.

“Give Marco your weapon.”

Matteo stared at him.

“You believe her?”

“I believe evidence.”

“This woman lied her way into your home.”

“And someone poisoned my coffee.”

Matteo’s eyes darkened.

“You are making a mistake.”

“Then help me correct it. Give him the gun.”

For one terrible second, no one moved.

Then Matteo slowly removed his pistol and handed it to Marco.

Alessandro ordered him confined to a guest room under guard.

By evening, the estate had become a fortress.

Sophia and Emma were moved to a protected bedroom. Alessandro personally questioned every servant.

At midnight, the laboratory sent a fuller report.

The poison in the coffee was not pure aconitine.

It was a specialized pharmaceutical compound originally developed for controlled heart research.

Only three laboratories in Europe had access to it.

One of them belonged to Duca Biomedica—a medical research company managed by Alessandro’s younger brother, Luca.

Alessandro read the report twice.

Luca had always been the charming brother.

The educated one.

The one who claimed to hate the family’s darker history.

While Alessandro inherited shipping yards, political enemies, and old debts, Luca built hospitals and laboratories.

He was admired by the public.

Loved by their relatives.

And almost never searched when he entered the estate.

Alessandro called him immediately.

Luca answered on the fourth ring.

“You sound tense.”

“Where are you?”

“At my house.”

“Come to the estate.”

“It’s after midnight.”

“Now.”

A pause followed.

Then Luca sighed.

“I was wondering when you would find out.”

Alessandro’s blood went cold.

“Find out what?”

“That your coffee was poisoned.”

The line went dead.

At that exact moment, the estate lights failed.

Gunfire erupted near the eastern gate.

Alessandro moved instinctively.

“Protect Sophia and Emma!”

Emergency lights flashed red across the corridors.

Marco and two guards rushed toward the protected bedroom, but the door was already open.

The room was empty.

A window stood ajar.

Sophia and Emma had vanished.

On the bed lay the gray rabbit.

Its stomach had been cut open.

The flash drive was gone.

Alessandro stared at the empty room.

A sickening realization struck him.

Sophia had not been kidnapped.

She had escaped.

Matteo was released from confinement when the guards discovered his room’s lock had been electronically disabled from the central system.

He found Alessandro in the courtyard, watching security teams search the woods.

“She played you,” Matteo said.

“Luca knew about the poison.”

“Or she told him.”

Alessandro turned.

“The laboratory linked the toxin to his company.”

“Which makes him an easy suspect.”

“You still believe Sophia is lying?”

“I believe Daniel Cross was not an innocent accountant. I investigated him myself.”

“And perhaps that is exactly why his recording named you.”

Matteo’s face hardened.

“You think I killed him?”

“I no longer know what to think.”

A black vehicle crashed through the estate’s secondary gate before either man could speak again.

It rolled to a violent stop near the fountain.

Luca stumbled from the driver’s seat, blood soaking his white shirt.

Alessandro ran to him.

His brother collapsed against the stone.

“Who did this?”

Luca gripped Alessandro’s jacket.

“Matteo.”

Alessandro slowly looked up.

Matteo stood several feet away.

Luca coughed blood.

“He’s been using my laboratory. He forged my authorization. I discovered missing compounds last month.”

“That is a lie,” Matteo said.

Luca pointed weakly toward him.

“He killed Daniel. He poisoned your coffee. He wants the company.”

Marco raised his weapon at Matteo.

Matteo did not move.

“Alessandro,” he said, “your brother is manipulating you.”

Luca laughed painfully.

“He has manipulated you your entire life.”

Alessandro looked between them.

His brother.

His best friend.

Two men he had trusted with everything.

Then a child’s scream came from inside Luca’s vehicle.

“Mommy!”

Alessandro pulled open the rear door.

Emma sat on the floor, wrists tied with plastic cord.

Sophia lay unconscious beside her.

Luca’s expression changed.

Only slightly.

But Alessandro saw it.

Emma pointed at Luca.

“He took us.”

Marco immediately aimed his weapon at him.

Luca tried to rise.

The weakness vanished from his face.

He reached beneath his coat.

Matteo fired first.

The bullet struck Luca’s shoulder, spinning him onto the gravel.

Guards surrounded him.

Sophia regained consciousness minutes later.

She revealed that Luca had entered the protected room through a hidden service passage built during the estate’s renovation. He demanded the flash drive, then forced her and Emma into his car.

He planned to kill them and frame Matteo.

The blood on his shirt belonged not to him, but to one of his own men who had been shot during the attack at the gate.

In Luca’s vehicle, guards found the missing flash drive, poison vials, forged documents, and a remote device used to disable security systems.

The evidence appeared absolute.

Luca had poisoned Alessandro.

Luca had killed Daniel.

Luca had orchestrated years of theft.

By dawn, he was locked inside the estate’s underground holding room.

Alessandro stood outside the iron door.

“Why?”

Luca sat on a bench, his wounded shoulder bandaged.

“Because Father chose you.”

“He left you hospitals, laboratories, property—”

“He left me respectability. He left you power.”

“You wanted my life?”

“I wanted what should have been mine.”

“You murdered an innocent man.”

Luca smiled faintly.

“Daniel was not innocent.”

Alessandro stepped closer.

“He discovered what you were doing.”

“No. He discovered something else.”

Luca leaned toward the bars.

“You still don’t understand, brother. The poison was never meant to kill you.”

Alessandro’s expression remained still.

“There was enough in the cup to stop my heart.”

“Yes.”

“Then explain.”

Luca’s smile widened.

“It was meant to expose the child.”

Alessandro felt a chill.

“What?”

“I knew Sophia would eventually come here. I knew she had Daniel’s files. But she was careful. She would never reveal herself unless she believed you were in immediate danger.”

“You poisoned me to force her to act?”

“I never expected the girl to smell it.”

Alessandro grabbed the bars.

“You could have killed me.”

“I knew you would not drink it.”

“How?”

“Because Emma had already warned you once before.”

The corridor seemed to narrow around Alessandro.

“I had never met Emma.”

Luca’s eyes glittered.

“Are you certain?”

Alessandro left without another word.

He found Sophia in a sunlit sitting room, holding Emma as the estate physician examined a bruise on the child’s wrist.

When the doctor finished, Alessandro closed the door.

“Luca said Emma had warned me before.”

Sophia became very still.

“He is trying to confuse you.”

“Has your daughter ever been in this estate?”

“No.”

“Has she ever met me?”

“No.”

Emma looked from her mother to Alessandro.

Then she said, “At the hospital.”

Sophia’s eyes closed.

Alessandro crouched in front of the child.

“What hospital?”

“The white room.”

Sophia stood quickly.

“She’s tired.”

Alessandro did not take his eyes off Emma.

“What happened in the white room?”

Emma touched his hand.

“You were sleeping.”

A memory surfaced.

Four years earlier, Alessandro had survived an assassination attempt. His car had exploded outside Milan. He spent twelve days unconscious in a private medical facility owned by Luca.

When he woke, doctors claimed an unknown blood donor had saved him after his rare blood type caused a critical shortage.

The donor’s identity had been kept confidential.

Emma was only three.

She could not have been there.

Unless—

Alessandro looked at Sophia.

“How old is Emma?”

“Three.”

“Exactly?”

Sophia did not answer.

He stood.

“When is her birthday?”

Tears filled her eyes.

“Please don’t do this.”

“When?”

“April seventeenth.”

Alessandro stepped back.

The hospital bombing had happened on April seventeenth, four years earlier.

“That is impossible.”

Sophia began crying.

“Emma is not three.”

The child watched them, confused.

“She is nearly four,” Sophia continued. “Trauma affected her speech and development. People assume she is younger.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

Sophia’s lips trembled.

“Daniel was not Emma’s biological father.”

The silence that followed was deeper than any silence Alessandro had ever known.

He stared at the little girl.

Brown eyes.

Dark curls.

A faint crescent-shaped birthmark beneath her left ear.

The same mark Alessandro’s mother had possessed.

The same mark he carried beneath his collar.

“No,” he whispered.

Sophia reached into her uniform pocket and removed a folded medical document.

“Before I married Daniel, I worked as a nurse at Luca’s private fertility clinic. I was told I had been selected for an experimental embryo program. I believed the embryo came from anonymous donors.”

Alessandro could barely hear her over the pounding of his heart.

“It didn’t?”

Sophia shook her head.

“Luca used genetic material taken from you while you were unconscious.”

Alessandro looked at Emma.

His knees nearly failed him.

“Why?”

“To create a compatible donor,” Sophia said. “You were dying. Luca believed a child carrying your bloodline could provide stem cells and later serve as a biological insurance policy.”

Alessandro’s stomach turned.

“You’re saying Emma was created to save me?”

“When she was born, cells from her umbilical cord were used in your treatment. That is why you survived.”

Emma slipped down from the sofa and walked toward him.

She offered him the gray rabbit.

“You look sad.”

Alessandro stared at her tiny face.

For years, he had believed he had no children.

No wife.

No future beyond protecting an empire built on fear.

Yet the child who had saved him that morning had already saved him on the day she entered the world.

Sophia wiped her tears.

“Daniel discovered the truth. He also discovered Luca had created other children using genetic material from powerful families. He planned to expose everything. That is why Luca killed him.”

Alessandro sank to one knee.

Emma touched the crescent mark beneath his collar.

“I have one too.”

She turned her head.

There it was.

Small.

Perfect.

Undeniable.

Alessandro pulled her into his arms.

At first, Emma went stiff.

Then her small hands wrapped around his neck.

Sophia covered her mouth as she cried.

For the first time in decades, Alessandro Duca allowed tears to fall where others could see them.

But the moment did not last.

Matteo entered with a sealed envelope.

“We found one final file on Daniel’s recorder.”

He placed it on the table.

“It was encrypted separately.”

Alessandro stood, still holding Emma.

“What does it say?”

Matteo looked at Sophia.

Then at the child.

“Daniel discovered Luca did not begin the experiment.”

Sophia frowned.

“Then who did?”

Matteo handed Alessandro a printed photograph.

It showed Alessandro’s father standing inside the fertility laboratory fifteen years earlier.

Beside him was Mrs. Conti.

And in her arms was a newborn baby.

On the back, someone had written a name.

Alessandro Duca.

He stared at the photograph.

“That’s impossible.”

Mrs. Conti appeared in the doorway.

Her bandaged head was bowed.

“No,” she said softly. “It is the truth.”

Alessandro looked at the woman who had raised him.

She began to cry.

“Your father’s first son was born sick and died after two days. Your mother could not have another child. Your father ordered the doctors to create a replacement using his genetic material and an anonymous donor.”

Alessandro felt the room tilt.

“I was created in that laboratory?”

“Yes.”

“And Luca?”

“Born naturally years later.”

The revelation struck with brutal clarity.

Luca had not merely envied Alessandro.

He had grown up believing an engineered child had stolen his inheritance.

Mrs. Conti continued.

“Your father built the program. Luca only continued it. Daniel wanted to destroy every record, free every family, and reveal the truth.”

Alessandro looked at Emma.

A child created from a man who had himself been created.

Two generations designed as instruments.

He walked to the fireplace and held the photograph over the flames.

Matteo stepped forward.

“That is evidence.”

“No,” Alessandro said.

The fire climbed across his father’s face.

“It is a chain.”

He dropped the photograph into the flames.

Then he looked at Sophia.

“I cannot change how Emma came into this world.”

Sophia held her breath.

“But I can decide what she becomes.”

Emma reached for him again.

Alessandro lifted her into his arms.

“What will she become?” Sophia whispered.

He looked at the child who had smelled death, exposed a traitor, uncovered a hidden dynasty, and shattered every lie upon which his family had been built.

His answer was quiet.

But everyone in the room heard it.

“She will become no one’s experiment, no one’s weapon, and no one’s inheritance.”

Emma rested her head against his shoulder.

“And your coffee?” she murmured sleepily.

Alessandro glanced toward the kitchen, where the morning sunlight had returned.

A faint smile touched his face.

“I think I’ll drink tea.”

Emma giggled.

It was a small sound.

Soft and ordinary.

Yet inside the cold stone estate, it felt like the first true sign of life anyone had heard in years.

Within the following months, Alessandro dismantled the secret fertility program, compensated every surviving family, and turned Luca’s laboratories over to international investigators.

He cleared Daniel Cross’s name publicly.

He placed Sophia and Emma under his protection, though Sophia made one thing clear from the beginning.

“You do not own us.”

Alessandro accepted the words without anger.

“I know.”

Trust came slowly.

Emma came faster.

She began leaving drawings on his desk, hiding crackers inside his coat pockets, and insisting that her rabbit needed a chair during breakfast.

The most feared man in northern Italy learned how to braid uneven pigtails, how to read the same bedtime story six nights in a row, and how to check every cup of coffee before taking a sip.

But some nights, Alessandro would stand outside Emma’s bedroom and wonder whether blood alone gave him any right to call himself her father.

Then one evening, as he turned away from her door, Emma’s sleepy voice stopped him.

“Daddy?”

Alessandro froze.

She had never called him that before.

He turned slowly.

Emma sat beneath her blankets, holding the gray rabbit.

“Yes?”

She smiled.

“Check your coffee tomorrow.”

His heart tightened.

“Why?”

“Because I put sugar in it.”

Alessandro laughed.

Not the quiet, controlled laugh of a powerful man performing for others.

A real laugh.

Warm.

Surprised.

Alive.

And in that instant, he understood the final truth his father, Luca, and all their laboratories had failed to comprehend.

A family could be engineered by science, manipulated by power, and wounded by secrets—but love was the one thing no laboratory could manufacture.

It could only be chosen.

And every morning after that, Alessandro chose it.

THE END.