Chapter 9 - VITTORIO’S LETTER
Alessandro read the letter alone.
His father had suspected Enzo’s resentment years earlier.
Not murder.
Not poison.
But resentment.
Vittorio admitted he had treated Enzo like a useful second son when it benefited him while never giving him the emotional place Enzo craved.
That had been cruel.
But the letter contained something else.
A warning.
Enzo had secretly moved money from a shipping account eight years earlier.
Vittorio discovered it.
He covered the loss.
Then he offered Enzo a choice.
Leave the family business or remain under permanent financial oversight.
Enzo stayed.
Alessandro had never known.
That explained the hidden anger.
It did not excuse anything.
At the end, Vittorio wrote.
Never confuse understanding a man with absolving him.
Alessandro folded the letter.
Those words stayed with him.
Later, Isabella requested to speak with him.
He refused.
Then she asked again.
He agreed only after Marco secured the room.
Isabella sat without makeup for the first time Alessandro could remember.
She looked younger.
And far less powerful.
“Is Sofia okay?”
Alessandro stared at her.
“You don’t get to use concern now.”
“I never wanted anyone to hurt her.”
“You poisoned me.”
Her eyes filled.
“I didn’t.”
Alessandro leaned forward.
“Sofia watched you put something in my food.”
“It wasn’t poison.”
“What was it?”
Isabella looked toward the camera.
“Turn that off.”
“No.”
“Then I won’t tell you.”
Alessandro stood.
She panicked.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
“It was medication.”
“What medication?”
“A heart drug.”
He stared at her.
“You put heart medication in my breakfast.”
“Small doses.”
“What does it do?”
“It lowers blood pressure.”
“Why?”
“Enzo wanted you weak.”
“For what?”
“To create medical records.”
Alessandro understood.
If he appeared chronically ill before the wedding, a sudden death later would look natural.
Isabella nodded as if reading his face.
“He wanted symptoms documented.”
“Dizziness.”
“Fatigue.”
“Low blood pressure.”
“And after we married?”
She looked away.
“A larger dose.”
Alessandro felt nothing for several seconds.
Then he asked.
“Were you sleeping with him?”
Isabella closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
The answer hurt less than he expected.
Maybe because betrayal had already killed the part that could hurt.
“How long?”
“Fourteen months.”
Their engagement had lasted eleven.
Alessandro stood.
Isabella whispered.
“There’s something Enzo didn’t tell you.”
He turned.
“The seventy million isn’t the whole plan.”
“What else?”
She looked terrified.
“There’s another beneficiary.”
“Who?”
May you like
Isabella swallowed.
“A child.”
