Chapter 3 - The Fiancée Who Knew Too Much
Alessandro read the message twice.
Then he turned toward Rosa.
“Stay here.”
She stood immediately.
“No.”
“Rosa, I need you to trust me.”
“I trusted people before.”
“I know.”
“And I almost lost my daughter.”
He crossed the room.
For a moment, she thought he was going to order her to sit down.
Instead, he lowered his voice.
“Listen carefully.”
She looked into his eyes.
“Whatever happens today, Lily stays with you.”
Rosa's expression trembled.
“You promise?”
“On my mother's grave.”
She nodded slowly.
He opened the door.
Two security guards stood outside.
“Marco.”
A broad-shouldered man in a dark suit stepped forward.
“Yes, Boss.”
“This room is now the most important room in the house.”
Marco's eyes shifted toward Rosa.
“Understood.”
“No one enters without Rosa's permission.”
“Even family?”
Alessandro's expression turned cold.
“Especially family.”
He walked toward the staircase.
Upstairs, Isabella had finished her phone call and was standing before a mirror, adjusting a diamond necklace.
She was wearing a cream-colored designer dress.
Her engagement ring sparkled beneath the chandelier.
When Alessandro entered, she smiled.
“Darling.”
He closed the door.
“Who did you call?”
Her smile remained.
“My father.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That your servants have become intolerable.”
Alessandro said nothing.
Isabella tilted her head.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because you're lying.”
Her expression stiffened.
“Excuse me?”
“You weren't discussing servants.”
She folded her arms.
“Alessandro, I refuse to be interrogated in my own home.”
“This isn't your home.”
The words landed hard.
Her cheeks flushed.
“We're getting married in six weeks.”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you answer my next question.”
Isabella laughed nervously.
“Don't be ridiculous.”
“Who tried to kill Rosa Mendes four years ago?”
The color vanished from her face.
Only for a second.
But Alessandro saw it.
He had built an empire by noticing seconds like that.
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Then why did you tell your father the child was still alive?”
Isabella's eyes widened.
“What?”
“Careful.”
She looked toward the door.
“You had my telephone monitored?”
“You threatened a child in my hallway.”
“I told a servant to leave.”
“You called a three-year-old girl filthy.”
“She doesn't belong here.”
Alessandro took one step closer.
“Neither do you.”
Isabella's expression hardened.
“My father won't appreciate this.”
“Your father can discuss it with me himself.”
“He will.”
“Good.”
Alessandro placed his phone on the dressing table.
He played a short recording.
Isabella's voice filled the room.
The little girl is still alive.
Then another sentence.
I don't care how you arrange it. This time, make sure the problem disappears.
Alessandro stopped the recording.
Isabella stared at the phone.
For the first time, she looked frightened.
“Who gave you that?”
“Wrong question.”
She backed toward the window.
“Alessandro, you don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
“It wasn't supposed to happen like this.”
He went still.
“What wasn't?”
She pressed her lips together.
He waited.
The silence became unbearable.
Finally, she whispered, “Our families made an agreement.”
Alessandro's eyes narrowed.
“What agreement?”
“Before your father died.”
“About Rosa?”
Isabella looked away.
“About your future.”
Alessandro let out a bitter laugh.
“My future.”
“You were supposed to marry someone suitable.”
“And Rosa wasn't suitable?”
“You know how these things work.”
“No, Isabella.”
He leaned closer.
“Tell me how ordering the murder of a pregnant woman works.”
“I didn't order anything.”
“But you knew.”
She said nothing.
“You knew there had been an attempt on her life.”
Her eyes filled.
“Your father was responsible for keeping the arrangement.”
Alessandro felt something inside him go cold.
“My father.”
“And mine.”
The second name changed everything.
Vincent Romano.
The same man whose daughter had been living under Alessandro's roof.
The same man whose shipping empire now shared contracts with the Moretti organization.
The same man who had spent ten years fighting the Morettis before proposing peace through marriage.
Alessandro suddenly saw the engagement for what it was.
Not an alliance.
A trap.
“Why?” he asked.
Isabella shook her head.
“Please don't make me say it.”
“Why?”
“Because your father made a promise.”
“What promise?”
Her voice dropped.
“That no child born outside the approved marriage would ever inherit the Moretti name.”
Alessandro stared at her.
“And Lily threatened that?”
Isabella nodded.
“Your father believed bloodlines had to remain uncontested.”
“My father is dead.”
“But the agreement isn't.”
Alessandro's expression hardened.
“Who is enforcing it?”
Isabella stepped closer.
“Listen to me.”
“No.”
“Alessandro, my father has people everywhere.”
“Then he's about to lose them.”
“You can't fight him.”
He smiled without warmth.
“Watch me.”
He turned toward the door.
Isabella grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
He looked down at her hand.
She released him immediately.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
She began shaking.
“The child isn't the only reason my father wants Rosa gone.”
Alessandro slowly turned.
“What did you just say?”
Isabella swallowed.
“Rosa has something.”
“What?”
“Something your father gave her before he died.”
Alessandro's eyes narrowed.
“Why would my father give her anything?”
“I don't know exactly.”
“Then tell me what you do know.”
Isabella glanced toward the closed door.
“He left instructions.”
“For whom?”
“For your daughter.”
Alessandro felt the floor shift beneath him.
“What instructions?”
May you like
Isabella's voice became a whisper.
“Instructions that could take the entire Moretti empire away from you.”
