Chapter 3 - The Bloodline Exposed
Inside Aleandro’s private study, the air was thick with tension.
Emma sat on the giant leather sofa, clutching her stuffed rabbit, her small shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Marco stood near the door, looking deeply uncomfortable.
Aleandro walked in, carrying a glass of warm milk and a plate of butter cookies. He sat on the low coffee table in front of Emma, setting the food down.
He held up the silver locket. "Where did your mother get this, Emma?"
Emma wiped her nose with her sleeve, looking at the photo. "That's my daddy."
Aleandro’s heart hammered against his ribs—a feeling he hadn't experienced in years. "Your daddy?"
"Mama says Daddy is an angel who watches over us from the sky," Emma whispered innocently. "She cries when she looks at the picture at night."
Aleandro closed his eyes for a brief moment as memories rushed back to him. Four years ago, before he took over the syndicate, he had been wounded in an ambush and spent three weeks hiding in a quiet coastal town. A gentle, quiet nurse named Sophia had tended to his wounds, fed him, and kept him alive. They had shared a brief, passionate romance before he was forced to disappear to protect her from his enemies.
He had believed she had moved on. He had never known she was pregnant.
Aleandro opened his eyes, looking down at his own hands, then at Emma’s face. The crescent birthmark behind her ear matched his own.
She wasn't just a maid's child. She was a princess of the Moretti dynasty.
Suddenly, the door swung open. Marco walked over, leaning down to whisper in Aleandro’s ear.
"Boss, the toxicology report on the champagne glass just came back from our private lab," Marco murmured. "The poison in Valentina's glass was cyanide. But..."
"But what?" Aleandro asked quietly.
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"The server who brought the tray says those glasses were prepared specifically for you, Boss," Marco revealed, his voice shaking slightly. "Valentina picked up the wrong glass off the tray by mistake. The poison wasn't meant for her... or the maid."
Aleandro’s eyes narrowed into cold, lethal slits. "The hit was meant for me."
