Isabella’s smile was small enough to look innocent, but Alessandro knew her too well to mistake it for warmth.
For the briefest instant, something colder than surprise flashed across her face when she saw the untouched bread.
«You haven’t eaten?» she asked.
Alessandro leaned back in his chair and watched her cross the room. Emma pressed herself closer to the back of Alessandro’s chair. Isabella noticed the movement and gave the child an affectionate smile that somehow made Emma grip Rosie harder.
«I lost my appetite,» Alessandro said. «You’re just in time.»
Isabella stopped beside him. «For what?»
Alessandro pushed the plate across the table until the buttered bread rested directly in front of her. «Breakfast.»
Her gaze dropped to the bread. Nothing changed in her expression, yet one hand tightened almost invisibly around the strap of her handbag.
«I already ate,» she said.
Alessandro smiled faintly. «One bite.»
Isabella looked at him, then at Emma. «Is this some kind of joke?»
«No.»
The single word changed the room.
Isabella slowly removed her gloves and placed them beside the plate. «You look very serious this morning.»
«I am.»
Emma’s breathing had become shallow. Isabella turned toward her and tilted her head. «Did you tell Alessandro another one of your stories?»
Emma said nothing.
«Answer me, sweetheart.»
«Leave her alone,» Alessandro said.
Isabella’s eyes snapped back toward him.
There had been a time when that look could make him forget every warning sign. Isabella Bellini possessed the rare gift of making people believe they had been chosen simply because she allowed them near her. She had entered Alessandro’s life eighteen months earlier at a charity gala in Florence, wearing black silk and laughing at something he had said when nobody else dared.
She had never chased him. That was what made him chase her. She had never seemed impressed by his surname, his wealth, or the international empire built by three generations of Romanos, and Alessandro had loved her for appearing indifferent to everything that usually attracted people to him.
Now he wondered whether indifference had simply been another performance.
«Eat the bread, Isabella.»
Her lips curved. «You’re ordering me to eat?»
«I’m asking you.»
«No, you aren’t.»
«No,» Alessandro admitted. «I’m not.»
Silence stretched between them. Then Isabella laughed softly.
«This is absurd.»
She reached toward the bread.
Emma gasped.
Isabella’s fingertips stopped a centimeter from the crust.
«What?» Isabella asked the girl.
Emma’s lower lip trembled.
«Nothing.»
«No, Emma. You obviously have something to say.»
Alessandro watched both of them. The strange thing was not that Isabella hesitated; it was that she seemed to be waiting for Emma to speak first.
«Eat it,» Emma whispered.
Isabella stared at her. Then she laughed again, but this time the sound held no amusement.
«Alessandro, surely you’re not allowing a child to dictate what happens in your home.»
«She says she saw you put something in the butter.»
There it was. For less than a second, Isabella stopped breathing.
Alessandro saw it. Emma saw it.
And Isabella knew they had both seen it. Then she recovered.
«A six-year-old?» Isabella asked. «You’re accusing me because of what a frightened little girl thinks she saw?»
«I haven’t accused you of anything.»
«You put contaminated food in front of me and tell me to eat it.» She pushed the plate away. «What would you call that?»
«A simple way to settle the question.»
Isabella rose from her chair. Her eyes had changed.
«Perhaps the real question is why she’s lying.»
Emma flinched.
Alessandro stood immediately. «Choose your next words carefully.»
Isabella looked at him in disbelief. «You’re threatening me?»
«I’m protecting a child in my house.»
«A child you barely know.»
Alessandro’s jaw tightened.
Emma had arrived at the Romano estate four months earlier with her mother, Sofia, who worked in the household laundry. Two weeks later Sofia died in what police called a single-car accident on a wet road outside Siena. With no relatives immediately available, Alessandro’s elderly aunt Lucia had insisted Emma remain at the estate while social services located family.
That search had produced nothing. No father. No grandparents. No cousins willing to claim her.
Emma had simply stayed. She ate breakfast in the servants’ kitchen, wandered the library with Rosie, and sometimes appeared beside Alessandro when he worked late.
Until that morning, she had never asked him for anything.
«She isn’t a liar,» Alessandro said.
Isabella’s face hardened. «You cannot possibly know that.»
«I know she has nothing to gain.»
«Children always gain something. Attention. Sympathy. Power.»
Emma’s eyes filled with tears.
Alessandro stepped between them. «That’s enough.»
Isabella stared at him.
Then she did something unexpected. She picked up the buttered bread.
Emma cried out. «Don’t!»
Isabella held the slice between two fingers. «There. Happy?»
«Take a bite,» Alessandro said.
She looked straight into his eyes. Then she raised it toward her mouth.
Her lips parted.
Alessandro’s pulse hammered.
The bread came within an inch of her teeth. Then a voice from the doorway shattered the moment.
«Mr. Romano.»
Everyone turned.
Alessandro’s housekeeper, Teresa, stood there holding a phone. Her face was gray. «There are police at the gate.»
Isabella lowered the bread. «Police?»
Teresa looked at Alessandro rather than her. «They say they need to speak with you immediately about Sofia Alvarez.»
Emma went completely still. Her dead mother’s name hung in the room like smoke.
Alessandro felt Isabella’s eyes move toward Emma. That alone was enough to make him afraid.
«What about Sofia?» he asked.
Teresa swallowed.
«They said her accident may not have been an accident.»
Emma dropped Rosie. The stuffed rabbit hit the marble floor.
Isabella set the bread down. Very carefully.
Alessandro turned toward her. «Did you know about this?»
«What are you talking about?»
«You reacted before Teresa finished.»
Isabella scoffed. «Because obviously the police arriving about a dead employee is alarming.»
«Not as alarming as poisoned butter?»
Her face went white. That was the first time he used the word.
Poisoned.
Isabella’s composure finally cracked. «Alessandro, listen to yourself.»
«No. You listen.»
He moved around the table.
«The police are coming inside. Nobody leaves this room.»
Her eyes narrowed.
«You have no right to detain me.»
«I have every right to ask you to stay.»
«And if I refuse?»
Alessandro looked toward the two security cameras mounted discreetly near the ceiling.
«Then my guards will make sure the police meet you before you reach the front door.»
For the first time, Isabella looked genuinely afraid.
Emma stared at her. Then she whispered, «She knew my mama.»
The words barely carried across the room.
Alessandro turned.
«What did you say?»
Emma pointed at Isabella.
«She knew my mama before we came here.»
Isabella’s face drained of color.
«That’s nonsense.»
Emma shook her head.
«I heard them fighting.»
«When?» Alessandro asked.
«The night before Mama died.»
Alessandro felt the floor shift beneath him.
Isabella stepped forward. «She’s confused.»
Emma backed away.
«No, I’m not.»
«What did you hear?» Alessandro asked.
Emma’s voice trembled. «Mama said, ‘You promised nobody would get hurt.'»
Nobody moved.
Isabella closed her eyes for one second.
That was enough. Alessandro saw everything change.
«What did you promise Sofia?»
Isabella opened her eyes.
«Nothing.»
Emma whispered, «Mama was crying.»
«Stop.»
It was the first time Isabella’s voice sounded frightened.
Emma continued. «She said she wanted to tell Mr. Romano.»
Isabella crossed the room in two sudden steps. «Enough!»
Alessandro caught her wrist before she reached the child. His grip was firm but controlled.
«Do not go near her.»
Isabella stared at his hand around her wrist.
«You’re making a terrible mistake.»
«Maybe.»
He released her. «But I’m beginning to think I already made one when I asked you to marry me.»
Pain flashed across her face. Whether real or performed, he could no longer tell.
The sound of approaching voices filled the corridor. A moment later two uniformed officers entered, followed by a tall woman in a dark coat.
«Mr. Romano?»
«Yes.»
She showed identification. «Detective Elena Moretti, Siena Criminal Investigations.»
Her gaze swept across the room, settling briefly on Isabella. Something passed between them.
Recognition.
Alessandro saw it immediately.
«You know her,» he said.
Detective Moretti did not answer.
Isabella did. «We’ve met.»
«Where?»
«No idea.»
The detective’s expression remained controlled. «I do.»
Isabella looked at her. Moretti walked slowly toward the table.
«We reopened Sofia Alvarez’s death yesterday.»
«Why?» Alessandro asked.
«Because we received new evidence.»
«What evidence?»
The detective looked toward Emma. «A recording.»
Emma frowned. Alessandro felt the hairs rise along his arms.
«What recording?»
Moretti reached inside her coat.
Before she could remove anything, Isabella spoke. «You should talk to your lawyer before you hear it.»
Alessandro turned toward her. «Why would I need a lawyer?»
She didn’t answer. Detective Moretti did.
«Because the recording doesn’t just involve Sofia.»
She placed a small evidence bag on the table.
Inside was an old black digital recorder. Alessandro stared at it.
Moretti’s next words changed everything. «Your father’s voice is on it.»
Alessandro’s chest tightened. His father, Vittorio Romano, had been dead for eleven years.
«That’s impossible.»
«No,» Moretti said. «It isn’t.»
She pressed a button through the evidence sleeve. Static filled the room.
Then a man’s voice emerged. Older. Rough. Unmistakable.
Alessandro stopped breathing. It was Vittorio.
«If anything happens to me,» the recording said, «Alessandro must never marry Isabella Bellini.»
Isabella closed her eyes. Emma began to cry.
And Alessandro realized the breakfast on the table might be only the final move in a plan that had begun more than a decade before he ever met his future wife.
The voice of Vittorio Romano faded into static, but nobody in the dining room moved. Alessandro stared at the recorder as though his dead father might somehow step through the machine and explain the impossible sentence himself.
«Play it again,» he said.
Detective Moretti did not move. «You heard him.»
«I said play it again.»
She pressed the button.
«If anything happens to me, Alessandro must never marry Isabella Bellini.»
The recording ended at the exact same place.
Alessandro turned toward Isabella. «You told me you never met my father.»
«I didn’t.»
«Then why did he know your name?»
«I don’t know.»
«That answer is becoming very convenient.»
Isabella folded her arms, struggling to regain control. «You’re hearing twelve seconds from an old recording with no context.»
«Then give me the context.»
«I can’t.»
«Can’t or won’t?»
Her eyes filled unexpectedly. «I can’t because I genuinely don’t know.»
Detective Moretti watched them both. «There’s more.»
Alessandro faced her.
«Play it.»
«Not here.»
«Why?»
«Because what comes next concerns your family company, Sofia’s death, and several people who may still be in danger.»
Alessandro’s gaze dropped to Emma. The detective noticed.
«Especially her.»
Emma instinctively moved closer to him.
Alessandro’s voice changed. «Take us secure.»
Within forty minutes, the Romano estate transformed from a home into a crime scene. Officers sealed the kitchen, removed the butter, bread, coffee, and dishes for analysis, while Alessandro’s security team surrendered camera footage from every corridor surrounding the dining room. Isabella remained under police supervision, not formally arrested but forbidden to leave until investigators finished questioning her.
Emma sat in Alessandro’s private library under a wool blanket, Rosie back in her arms. Alessandro crouched in front of her and promised she had done nothing wrong.
«Did Mama die because of me?» she asked.
«No.»
«Because I heard them?»
«No.»
He held her small shoulders gently.
«You believe me now.»
The sentence broke something inside him.
«I should have believed you immediately.»
«You did a little.»
He almost smiled. «A little wasn’t enough.»
Detective Moretti appeared at the library door. «We need to talk.»
Alessandro stood. «Emma stays with Teresa.»
«No,» Emma said immediately.
«Emma—»
«I know things.»
Moretti looked at her carefully.
«What things?»
Emma opened Rosie’s back zipper.
Alessandro had never noticed it before. The stuffed rabbit was old and patched, its left ear sewn twice and its belly slightly uneven.
Emma pushed her fingers into the lining. Then she pulled out a tiny brass key.
Everyone stared.
«Mama gave me this the night she died.»
Alessandro’s pulse accelerated. «What does it open?»
«She said I would know when somebody believed me.»
Moretti crouched.
«Did she tell you anything else?»
Emma nodded.
«She said Rosie was safer than grown-ups.»
A chill moved through the library.
Moretti held out an evidence glove. «Can I see the key?»
Emma looked at Alessandro first. He nodded.
The detective examined the tiny object. A number was engraved along one side: 317.
Moretti stood immediately. «I know what this is.»
«What?» Alessandro asked.
«A railway-station locker key.»
Siena Centrale had exactly one old locker wing still using brass mechanical keys.
Twenty minutes later, Moretti’s team confirmed locker 317 existed. It had been rented under the name Sofia Alvarez eight months earlier.
Alessandro insisted on going. So did Emma.
Moretti initially refused. Then Emma said, «Mama left it for me.»
That ended the argument. They traveled in an unmarked vehicle with two officers, while Isabella remained at the estate.
Locker 317 stood near the far end of a narrow corridor beneath the station. Emma inserted the key herself. The door clicked open.
Inside sat a blue canvas bag. Nothing else.
Moretti photographed it before removing the contents. There were three envelopes, a flash drive, photographs, and an old leather-bound ledger.
Alessandro recognized the ledger immediately. His father had carried one exactly like it during the final years of his life.
On the first page were three handwritten initials: V.R., S.A., L.B. Vittorio Romano. Sofia Alvarez. And someone Alessandro did not know.
«What is L.B.?» he asked.
Moretti did not answer.
Her silence told him she knew. «Detective.»
She finally looked at him. «Lucia Bellini.»
Alessandro frowned. «My aunt’s name is Lucia Romano.»
«It is now.»
«What are you saying?»
Moretti opened one of the envelopes. «Before she married your uncle, your aunt was Lucia Bellini.»
Alessandro felt suddenly dizzy. He stared at the detective.
«Bellini.»
«Yes.»
The same surname as Isabella. He turned slowly toward Emma.
«Isabella is related to Aunt Lucia?»
Moretti’s expression told him the truth was worse.
«She’s her daughter.»
Alessandro laughed once because the alternative was shouting.
«That’s impossible. Lucia never had children.»
«She had one.»
«Why hide her?»
«Because Vittorio forced her to.»
The station noise seemed to disappear. Alessandro opened the ledger.
Page after page contained payment records, offshore accounts, chemical purchases, names, and dates. Several transactions were marked with the same symbol: a small black triangle.
One date jumped out. Eleven years earlier. Three days before Vittorio Romano died from what doctors called a sudden cardiac event.
Beside the date was a payment to a pharmaceutical research firm. The substance listed underneath was a potassium-channel compound capable of causing fatal arrhythmia while leaving little trace in routine toxicology.
Alessandro stared at the words. «My father was poisoned.»
Moretti nodded. «We believe so.»
«By Lucia?»
«We don’t know.»
«Sofia knew?»
«She discovered enough to become dangerous.»
Alessandro opened the second envelope. Inside was a photograph.
His father stood outside a laboratory with Sofia, who looked far younger. Beside them stood Lucia Romano.
And a fourth person. A young woman, perhaps twenty-five, with dark hair and unmistakable eyes.
Isabella.
Alessandro felt sick.
«She did know him.»
«Yes.»
His hand shook. «She lied to me.»
Emma touched his sleeve. He looked down.
«She lies when she’s scared,» Emma whispered.
Alessandro frowned.
«How do you know?»
«Mama said that.»
Moretti turned sharply. «When did Sofia talk about Isabella?»
«All the time.»
«Why?»
Emma’s brow furrowed as she tried to remember. «She said Miss Isabella was trying to fix something bad.»
Alessandro froze. «Fix?»
Emma nodded. «Mama said Miss Isabella wasn’t the dangerous one.»
Every assumption in the case shifted again. Moretti took the third envelope. Across its front Sofia had written: FOR ALESSANDRO ONLY.
He opened it. Inside was a letter.
Alessandro,
If you are reading this, I failed to keep Emma safe myself.
Your father discovered that someone inside Cross-Mediterranean procurement—later Romano Strategic Holdings—was using company medical contracts to obtain restricted compounds. He believed the scheme was laundering money, but he discovered something worse.
People were being killed.
Deaths were made to look natural. Heart attacks. Accidents. Overdoses.
Vittorio gathered evidence with Lucia Bellini and me. Lucia’s daughter Isabella helped us.
Alessandro stopped. He looked at Moretti.
«Isabella helped my father.»
«Keep reading.»
But someone betrayed us.
Vittorio died before he could expose them. Lucia disappeared from the investigation and married into your family six months later.
Years afterward, Isabella contacted me. She believed her mother had been forced into silence and wanted to finish what Vittorio started.
She became close to you because we needed access to the estate and company archives.
I am sorry.
Alessandro gripped the letter harder. The engagement had been a lie.
Maybe not the kind he thought. But still a lie.
He continued.
Isabella was never supposed to fall in love with you. That changed everything.
Three weeks ago, we discovered the person directing the operation is still inside your family.
If anything happens to me, do not trust—
The letter ended. The final corner had been torn away.
Alessandro stared at the missing section. «Do not trust who?»
Moretti swore under her breath. Someone had removed the name.
Alessandro looked into the blue bag. «There has to be more.»
The flash drive. Moretti plugged it into a secured forensic laptop.
Most files were encrypted. One video was not.
The screen showed Sofia standing in a storage room. She looked frightened.
«If I don’t make it to Alessandro, Isabella has the second half.» Sofia glanced behind her.
«Emma knows more than she realizes.»
The video jumped.
Then Sofia said something that caused Emma to drop Rosie. «The person behind this is someone Alessandro loves more than anyone.»
The image froze. Alessandro stared.
Moretti turned toward him. «Who fits that description?»
He immediately thought of his mother. She had died years ago.
His father. Dead.
His younger sister, Bianca. Living in Paris.
And Aunt Lucia. The woman who had raised him after both parents were gone.
His phone rang. Lucia’s name appeared on the screen.
Nobody spoke. Alessandro answered.
«Zia?»
Her voice was warm and familiar. «Darling, where are you?»
«At the station.»
A pause. Almost imperceptible.
«With Emma?»
Alessandro looked at Moretti.
«How did you know Emma was with me?»
Silence.
Then Lucia sighed. «Oh, Alessandro.»
The tenderness disappeared from her voice. «You should have eaten your breakfast.»
The line went dead.
Alessandro’s blood turned cold. Moretti shouted for officers to move.
But Emma was already staring at something behind Alessandro. Her face filled with terror.
«Sir.»
He turned.
At the far end of the station corridor stood a man in a maintenance uniform. His hand was inside his jacket.
Moretti screamed, «DOWN!»
The first shot shattered the locker door beside Alessandro’s head.
He threw himself over Emma. People screamed and scattered.
A second shot struck the wall. Moretti fired back.
The attacker disappeared around the corner. Officers pursued him.
Emma sobbed beneath Alessandro. He held her against his chest.
«You’re okay. You’re okay.»
His own hands were shaking violently.
Moretti returned moments later. «He escaped through the service exit.»
Alessandro stood. His face had changed.
The man who entered the station was no longer simply wealthy or powerful. He was furious.
«My aunt tried to kill us.»
Moretti looked uncertain.
«Maybe.»
«What does that mean?»
«We still have a problem.»
She turned the forensic laptop toward him.
During the shooting, technicians had cracked another file from Sofia’s drive. It was a photograph taken secretly inside the Romano estate.
Lucia was visible. So was the gunman who had just attacked them.
And standing beside both of them was Isabella.
Alessandro stared at the screen. Emma stopped crying.
The photograph was dated only six days ago.
Isabella had met with the people who wanted them dead less than a week before warning signs began. And suddenly Alessandro no longer knew whether the woman he loved had been infiltrating a conspiracy—or helping lead it.
Alessandro returned to the Romano estate shortly after sunset with armed officers surrounding every entrance. By then, Isabella had vanished. Two guards assigned to watch her were unconscious in the west corridor, both alive but sedated with a fast-acting veterinary tranquilizer stolen from the estate’s emergency medical cabinet.
Her car remained in the garage. Her phone lay upstairs.
On Alessandro’s bed, however, she had left a single white envelope. Inside were six words:
TRUST EMMA. NOT THE PHOTOGRAPH. COME ALONE.
Beneath the message was an address: an abandoned Romano pharmaceutical warehouse forty kilometers outside Siena.
Moretti read it twice. «It’s a trap.»
«Obviously.»
«And you’re not going.»
Alessandro buttoned his coat. «She has the rest of Sofia’s evidence.»
«Or she wants you somewhere isolated.»
«Then you follow me.»
«She said alone.»
«I’m not stupid.»
Moretti almost smiled. «Good.»
Emma near the fireplace while Teresa packed a small bag for her. Alessandro crouched beside the girl. «You’re staying here.»
«No.»
«Yes.»
Emma hugged Rosie. «She’ll come here.»
«Who?»
«Miss Lucia.»
Alessandro’s throat tightened. «The police are here.»
Emma shook her head. «She knows this house.»
The certainty in her voice frightened him more than panic would have.
«How?»
Emma looked toward the fireplace. «There’s another way in.»
The investigation stopped instantly. «What other way?»
«Mama showed me.»
Emma led them into the library.
Behind a seventeenth-century bookcase was a narrow servants’ passage forgotten on all modern architectural plans. It connected the library, wine cellar, west staircase, and an old tunnel leading beyond the estate walls.
Alessandro stared at the opening. «Lucia knows about this?»
Emma nodded. «Mama said she used it.»
Moretti radioed officers.
Three minutes later, police found fresh footprints in the tunnel. Someone had entered the property within the last hour.
Then the estate lost power. Every light went out.
Emma screamed. Alessandro grabbed her.
Gunfire erupted downstairs. Moretti drew her weapon.
«Stay here!»
«No.»
Alessandro picked Emma up and moved toward the reinforced study, but a shadow emerged from the hidden passage. A pistol appeared first.
Then Lucia Romano stepped into the room.
Alessandro stopped.
The woman who had taught him to read, attended every school ceremony, held him at his mother’s funeral, and raised him after Vittorio died now pointed a gun at his chest. Her silver hair was perfectly arranged.
«Put her down,» Lucia said.
«Zia.»
«Do it.»
Emma buried her face against Alessandro’s shoulder.
«You poisoned my father.»
Lucia’s eyes softened.
«Your father caused his own death.»
«How?»
«He believed morality could survive power.»
«That isn’t an answer.»
«It’s the only answer that matters.»
Moretti moved somewhere beyond the hallway.
Lucia heard her. «Detective, if you enter, Alessandro dies.»
Silence.
Alessandro lowered Emma gently.
«Go behind me.»
Emma obeyed.
Lucia’s gun remained steady. «Where is Isabella?»
Lucia smiled. «Still protecting her?»
«I asked a question.»
«She disappointed me.»
Alessandro stared at her. «So she really is your daughter.»
«For all the good it did me.»
«What happened?»
Lucia glanced at Emma. «Not in front of the child.»
Emma suddenly spoke. «My mama hated you.»
Lucia’s face hardened. «Sofia was sentimental.»
«You killed her.»
«No.»
Emma blinked. Lucia stepped closer.
«I ordered her frightened.»
Alessandro’s stomach turned.
«The car was supposed to be forced off the road, nothing more. My employee panicked.»
«You’re describing murder like a scheduling error.»
«I’m describing thirty years of protecting this family.»
«By killing my father?»
Lucia’s composure cracked. «Your father was going to destroy everything!»
«Everything?»
«Thousands of employees. Contracts. Governments. Partnerships. He discovered one compromised program and decided righteousness mattered more than survival.»
«One program?»
Alessandro laughed bitterly.
«You were manufacturing assassination compounds.»
«We were manufacturing leverage.»
Emma whispered, «Monster.»
Lucia looked at her.
Alessandro moved immediately between them. «Don’t.»
Lucia sighed. «You always were like Vittorio.»
«Thank God.»
«That is not a compliment.»
A sound came through the hidden passage. Lucia turned slightly.
Isabella emerged. Her dress was torn at one shoulder, her face bruised, a gun held in both hands.
«Put it down, Mother.»
Alessandro stopped breathing.
Lucia smiled sadly. «There you are.»
Isabella’s eyes met Alessandro’s. «I’m sorry.»
«Did you really think you could stop this?» Lucia asked, her finger tightening on the trigger.
«I didn’t think,» Isabella replied steadily. «I knew.»
Before Lucia could fire, the darkness of the study erupted. Moretti lunged from the shadows, tackling Lucia to the floor as the weapon discharged into the ceiling. Officers swarmed through the secret passage behind her, securing the room within seconds.
The gun clattered across the hardwood floor. Lucia offered no resistance as cuffs were locked around her wrists, her expression remaining chillingly composed to the very end.
As the police led her away, the heavy silence of the room settled over the remaining three.
Isabella lowered her own weapon and let out a long, shuddering breath.
Emma broke away from Alessandro first, running straight to Isabella and wrapping her small arms tightly around her waist.
«You didn’t poison him,» Emma said, her voice muffled against Isabella’s jacket.
Isabella laughed and cried simultaneously, dropping to her knees to hug the child. «No, sweet girl. I would never.»
«You scared me.»
«I’m sorry.»
Emma pulled back, pointing a tiny, stern finger. «Don’t do that again.»
«I promise.»
Alessandro slowly walked over, looking down at the two of them. Neither spoke for a long moment.
Finally, Alessandro cleared his throat. «You could have found another way.»
«Yes.»
«You lied.»
«Yes.»
«You broke into my company.»
«Yes.»
«You nearly gave me a heart attack with a slice of buttered bread.»
A tiny, tired smile appeared on her bruised face. «Technically, you didn’t eat enough for that to happen.»
He laughed despite himself—the first real, unfiltered laugh he had felt in months. He knelt down beside them.
«I don’t know whether I can forgive all of this overnight.»
«I’m not asking you to.»
«But I’d like to know who you are when you aren’t working undercover.»
Her eyes softened, the fierce armor finally melting away. «That woman is considerably less interesting.»
«I’ll risk it.»
Emma looked back and forth between them with wide eyes. «Does this mean she can stay for dinner?»
Alessandro glanced at Isabella, then down at the little girl who had accidentally saved his life, deliberately helped dismantle a criminal empire, and changed every definition of family he had ever known.
«Yes,» Alessandro said softly.
Emma grinned. «But,» Alessandro added with a smirk, «I’m making the butter.»
