Chapter 2 – A Name Buried in Blood
The next morning, Harper expected breakfast to be delivered to her room.
Instead, the maid politely informed her that Mr. DeLuca requested she join him in the dining hall.
Harper hesitated.
She had spent years learning that invitations from powerful men were rarely optional.
When she entered, Enzo was already seated, reading financial reports.
He looked up only once.
"You should eat."
She blinked.
"No speech?"
"What speech?"
"The one about obedience."
He folded the newspaper.
"I don't need obedience."
"Then why did you marry me?"
The question lingered between them.
Finally, he answered with the truth.
"To punish your father."
Harper lowered her eyes.
"I thought so."
She reached for her coffee, but her sleeve slipped back just enough for Enzo to see another faded scar circling her forearm.
Not an accident.
A restraint mark.
He said nothing.
Instead, he pushed a plate of fresh pastries toward her.
"You haven't eaten since yesterday."
"How do you know?"
"You nearly fainted during the ceremony."
She looked genuinely surprised that someone had noticed.
Before either of them could speak again, Marco entered.
"There has been an incident."
Richard Whitcomb had frozen several DeLuca shipping accounts overnight, igniting a financial confrontation that looked less like business and more like the opening move of a war.
Enzo rose immediately.
As Harper quietly excused herself, she heard Marco ask in a low voice,
"Do you still want to use her?"
Enzo glanced toward the doorway where Harper had disappeared.
"No."
He paused.
"I think someone has been using her for years."
That evening, Enzo unlocked the last sealed drawer in his late father's study.
Inside was a faded photograph of a young woman with warm eyes and raven-black hair.
On the back, a single name was written.
Isabella Moretti.
Beneath it...
"If anything happens to me, protect her child."
Enzo's pulse quickened.
Moretti.
The same surname that appeared on the birth certificate Richard had hidden.
He suddenly realized Harper's secret wasn't simply abuse.
May you like
It was identity.
Someone had erased her life long before he had ever met her.
