Chapter 3 - The Betrayal of the Romano Line
The grand library of Villa Moretti was lined with three stories of rare leather-bound books, but the atmosphere was anything but academic.
Vivian Romano was pressed against a mahogany bookshelf, two armed Moretti guards standing on either side of her. Her red gown was rumpled, her designer hair loose around her shoulders. Her eyes darted wildly around the room as Alessandro walked in, followed by Marco, myself, and Emma, whom I carried in my arms.
"Alessandro!" Vivian cried out, attempting to throw her arms around him, but Marco stepped between them effortlessly. "This is absurd! Your guards put their hands on me! I am a Romano! My father controls the Milan shipping docks!"
"Your father used to control the Milan shipping docks," Alessandro corrected her softly. He walked over to a velvet armchair, picked up a leather file folder, and tossed it onto the central table. "Until twenty minutes ago, when my auditors traced the Liechtenstein trust account linked to the micro-chip."
Vivian froze, her breath catching in her throat.
"The primary beneficiary of the four-hundred-million-euro theft isn't a rival family," Alessandro revealed, his voice dangerously level. "It’s the Romano Holdings Corporation. Signed personally by your father... and co-signed by you, Vivian."
I gasped, hugging Emma tighter. The woman who had slapped me for spilling juice on a rug was part of a conspiracy that had murdered Alessandro’s father and stolen a fortune.
"You married me for my empire," Alessandro continued, taking a slow step toward her. "Or rather, you agreed to the engagement to ensure that when the Phantom network finally struck my head off, the Romano family would inherit the entire Northern Italian territory."
Vivian’s panicked expression suddenly melted away. The aristocratic, refined lady vanished, replaced by a bitter, venomous smile.
"Your father was a fool, Alessandro," Vivian spat, straightening her back and glaring at him with pure hatred. "He kept the families bound by ancient, useless rules of honor! He refused to expand into human trafficking! He refused to take the high-margin government contracts! My father and I gave the families what they actually wanted—unlimited wealth!"
"Through murder," Alessandro noted.
"Through progress!" Vivian shrieked. "And what are you going to do now? Kill me? If I die, my father’s men will blow up three cargo ships in the Genoa harbor before sunrise! Your precious trade routes will burn!"
Alessandro didn't flinch. He slowly pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed a button on the screen.
"Speak, Don Ricci," Alessandro said into the speakerphone.
The gravelly voice of the oldest crime boss in Milan filled the quiet library. "Alessandro, my boy... we have just secured the Romano shipping yards in Genoa. Vivian's father has been taken into custody by the Council of Families. The four hundred million euros in Liechtenstein has been frozen."
Vivian’s knees buckled. She slid down the mahogany bookshelf, collapsing onto the carpet, her face a mask of total, absolute ruin.
"You made one fatal mistake, Vivian," Alessandro said softly, looking down at her with absolute disdain. "You assumed that money buys loyalty. But in this world, respect buys loyalty. And you insulted the wrong household."
He turned to Marco. "Take her to the cellar. The Council will decide her fate tomorrow morning."
As the guards dragged the screaming woman down the hall, Alessandro turned to face me. The room was silent once more.
"Mrs. Bennett," Alessandro said gently. "You and your daughter are no longer safe in your apartment in the city. Vivian’s remaining loyalists will be looking for revenge."
"Where... where are we supposed to go?" I asked, my voice trembling with exhaustion.
May you like
Alessandro looked at tiny Emma, who was blinking sleepily at him from my shoulder.
"You stay here," Alessandro declared firmly. "In my home. Under my personal protection. Indefinitely."
