Chapter 2
The Paper Under The Dress
“Give me that,” Bianca said when Alessandro reached for the folder.
“Rosalie, take Livia into the sitting room. Stay where Gabriel can see you.”
Livia clung to his collar. “You come too?”
“In one minute, sweetheart.” He kissed the one patch of hair Bianca had left untouched. “I promise.”
Rosalie carried her out. The child hid her face against the maid's shoulder. Alessandro watched until the door closed. Then he unfolded the document.
It wasn't a custody order. It was a petition prepared for filing, with pages describing him as unstable, dangerous, and unfit to manage his child's interests. Attached were photos of armed men outside the house, reports of threatening phone calls, and a proposed temporary guardian: Bianca Moretti.
“You drafted this before we were married?” he asked.
“It's insurance,” she replied. “You have enemies. I'm protecting her.”
“You cut her hair to protect her?”
“Your daughter needs discipline.”
He noticed a separate agreement clipped behind the petition. It authorized an independent trustee to sell property held for Livia's benefit, including the waterfront parcel that had belonged to her mother, Sofia. The proposed trustee was a corporation Alessandro didn't recognize: North Harbor Advisory.
“Who owns this?”
“An attorney handles it.” Bianca snatched at the pages. He moved them out of reach. “You're acting insane. You shoved furniture at me. There are witnesses.”
Alessandro thought of the stool striking her legs. The picture would look bad without the clippers, without the child. Bianca saw his hesitation and smiled.
“That's right,” she said softly. “Your temper will do half my work.”
He called Gabriel Voss, his chief of security. “Cancel the ceremony. Nobody deletes footage. Nobody leaves with documents. And find Grace Chen.”
“Your family attorney?” Gabriel asked.
“My daughter's attorney,” Alessandro answered. “From now on, there's a difference.”
Gabriel hesitated. “Boss, someone already disconnected the bridal-suite cameras at eight thirty.”
“Who ordered it?”
“That's the problem. The request came from your private number.”
May you like
Alessandro stared at his phone, which had been in his jacket all morning.
