Chapter 3 - A Moretti Is Not a Bargaining Chip
Three weeks later, Isabel returned to New York for a specialist appointment.
She did not tell me.
My father did.
That was the first warning.
The second was finding Vittorio waiting outside the private clinic.
I stepped from my car.
“What are you doing here?”
“My granddaughter is being examined.”
“How did you know?”
He smiled.
“I’m still Vittorio Moretti.”
I grabbed his arm.
“And Isabel is still my wife.”
“For the moment.”
My grip tightened.
“You had her followed.”
“I protected her.”
“She didn't ask.”
“Neither do presidents.”
“She isn't territory.”
“She is carrying our future.”
I released him.
“There is no ‘our.’”
His eyes narrowed.
“You're becoming sentimental.”
“Maybe.”
“That child will inherit everything.”
“Maybe she won't want it.”
Vittorio actually laughed.
“She will be a Moretti.”
“No. She’ll be herself.”
The clinic door opened.
Isabel stepped outside.
She saw us.
Her face fell.
“Of course.”
I immediately said, “I didn't know.”
“Then how is he here?”
I looked at my father.
Isabel understood.
Her expression turned ice cold.
“You followed me?”
Vittorio adjusted his coat.
“Protection.”
“Surveillance.”
“Isabel, be reasonable.”
She walked directly toward him.
“I spent ten years being reasonable while you discussed my uterus at dinner tables.”
His face hardened.
“You are carrying my granddaughter.”
“I am carrying my daughter.”
“She requires protection.”
“She requires a grandfather who understands the word no.”
Vittorio looked at me.
“Control your wife.”
I moved between them.
“Say that again.”
He stared at me.
“What?”
“Tell me to control her again.”
“Alexander—”
“You've spent my entire life teaching me that power means everyone else obeys.”
I stepped closer.
“You were wrong.”
Vittorio's voice lowered.
“Do not embarrass me publicly.”
I almost laughed.
“That sentence built my marriage.”
Isabel looked at me.
For once, I didn't care who was watching.
“You will remove every man following her,” I said.
“Absolutely not.”
“Then I'll remove them.”
“You would turn against your own father?”
“No.”
I glanced at Isabel.
“I’m finally standing beside my family.”
Vittorio went silent.
That evening, Isabel sat across from me at a small Italian restaurant.
No bodyguards at the table.
No capos.
No business.
“You surprised me today,” she said.
“I surprised myself.”
“You threatened your father.”
“I've threatened him before.”
“Not for me.”
That landed.
“No.”
I looked down.
“Not when it mattered.”
She studied me.
“The divorce hearing is in four weeks.”
“I know.”
“You aren't going to stop it?”
“I could.”
Her expression cooled.
I continued quickly.
“I won't.”
“Why?”
“Because if I use my power to force you to remain my wife, then I haven't learned anything.”
She stared at me.
“And if I sign?”
“I sign.”
“And the baby?”
“I'll ask you to let me be her father.”
“Ask?”
“Yes.”
“You don't ask often.”
“I'm practicing.”
Her mouth curved slightly.
Then my phone rang.
Marcus.
I answered.
“What?”
His voice was tense.
“We have a problem.”
“What kind?”
“Someone accessed Isabel's medical records.”
I looked across the table.
My blood went cold.
“Who?”
“We don't know yet.”
Isabel saw my expression.
“What happened?”
I stood.
Marcus continued.
“And Alexander?”
“Yes?”
“Whoever did it downloaded everything.”
I stared at Isabel's stomach.
May you like
For the first time, the secret was no longer ours.
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