Chapter 5 - THE WOMAN ALESSANDRO ALMOST MARRIED
Alessandro confronted Genevieve privately four days before the wedding.
Not about the plot.
About Amara.
He wanted to see what she would do with one truth.
She stood inside the library.
Perfect blue dress.
No visible fear.
“You hurt a child.”
Genevieve exhaled.
“I grabbed her wrist.”
“Yes.”
“She was spreading stories.”
“She is three.”
“She heard something she didn't understand.”
“What?”
That was the trap.
Genevieve stopped.
Alessandro noticed.
“What did she misunderstand?”
“Nothing.”
“Interesting.”
Her face changed.
“Are you interrogating me?”
“No.”
He walked closer.
“I'm asking the woman I intended to marry why a toddler frightens her.”
Genevieve looked away.
Then:
“My father is in trouble.”
Not what he expected.
“What kind?”
“Financial.”
“I know.”
Her head snapped toward him.
Alessandro continued:
“Eighteen-point-six million.”
She went white.
“Marco told you?”
“No.”
He watched.
She sat.
For the first time, Genevieve looked less polished than human.
“Marco owns the debt.”
“Yes.”
“He said if I didn't cooperate, he'd destroy my father.”
“And?”
She began crying.
“He would.”
Alessandro felt old affection rise.
Dangerous.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Marco said you'd kill him.”
Alessandro said nothing.
Fair.
Genevieve looked at him.
“He said your father did things to people who betrayed him.”
“My father is dead.”
“And you're his son.”
There it was.
The reputation.
The prison Alessandro inherited and maintained.
She continued:
“I thought I could get through the wedding, sign the papers, then warn you.”
He stared.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Then explain seven hundred forty thousand dollars.”
Silence.
Her tears stopped.
Alessandro felt something inside him die quietly.
Genevieve whispered:
“I needed a way out.”
“For yourself.”
“Yes.”
“What about me?”
She looked down.
“What about the second dose?”
Her face lost all color.
There.
No more ambiguity.
“How…”
He stepped closer.
“Were you planning to watch me die?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Marco said it would only look serious.”
“Genevieve.”
“I swear.”
“Rusk's message says no recovery.”
“I never saw that.”
Maybe true.
Maybe not.
Then she made her worst mistake.
“But you would never have let me leave afterward.”
Alessandro stopped.
She believed that.
Perhaps because he had built a world where leaving him seemed dangerous.
It did not absolve her.
But it told him something about himself.
“You could have left yesterday.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Could I?”
“Yes.”
“Would your men have let me through the gate?”
Alessandro opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
Would they?
Without his approval?
Maybe not.
That answer sickened him.
He turned toward the door.
“Go upstairs.”
Her face tightened.
“Why?”
“Because if I keep speaking, I will become the man you already believe I am.”
Genevieve understood enough to leave.
That night, Alessandro ordered every estate protocol changed.
No adult guest required permission to leave.
No employee's personal documents held by management.
No private debt enforced through household labor.
Fatima watched him issue orders.
“Because of Genevieve?”
“Because she was wrong about what I would do.”
He paused.
“But she wasn't wrong about what everyone assumed.”
Fatima nodded.
“That bothers you.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He gave her a look.
She smiled.
For the first time, he smiled back without restraint.
Amara ran into the room carrying her lamb.
“Alessandro!”
He crouched.
“What happened?”
“Sheep is sick.”
He examined the stuffed lamb solemnly.
“Serious?”
“Yes.”
“What treatment?”
“Cookie.”
Fatima sighed.
“Convenient diagnosis.”
Amara gave Alessandro the lamb.
He pretended to listen to its chest.
“Definitely cookie.”
Fatima stared at him.
The feared Alessandro Rienzi sitting on the floor diagnosing a stuffed sheep.
Something warm and dangerous shifted inside her.
May you like
She immediately ignored it.
Mostly.
