Chapter 5 - The Name of the Ghost
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"You can't do this!" Serena shrieked, the pristine mask of the elegant socialite finally shattering into a million jagged pieces. She fought wildly as Nico and another massive guard grabbed her arms, digging her expensive heels into the marble floor. "My father will kill you, Alessandro! You are starting a war over a pathetic, lying maid!"
"The war started the moment you threatened a child in my home," Alessandro replied coldly, not even bothering to look at her as she was dragged thrashing and screaming down the hallway.
When her frantic cries finally faded into the sprawling estate, the heavy silence returned to the suite. Alessandro took off his tailored suit jacket and draped it gently over Chiara’s shivering, soaked shoulders. The jacket was massive on her, swallowing her small frame, but the residual heat of his body offered her an immediate, desperate comfort.
"Thank you, sir," Chiara whispered, pulling the lapels tightly around her chest.
"You do not need to call me sir right now," Alessandro said, guiding her toward the plush velvet sofa in the corner of the room. He poured a small glass of expensive amber bourbon from a crystal decanter and handed it to her. "Drink. It will stop the shaking."
She took a hesitant sip, coughing slightly as the alcohol burned a fiery path down her throat. But it worked. The violent trembling began to subside.
Alessandro sat in the armchair across from her, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked at her with an intensity that made her breath catch.
"When I walked into this room," Alessandro began, his voice dangerously quiet, "my fiancée looked at me and called me Lorenzo. She corrected herself immediately. But I need to know why that name was on her lips, Chiara."
Chiara looked down at the glass in her hands, terrified of the truth she was carrying. "She was on the phone, Mr. Vieri. I was just supposed to be turning down the bedsheets. She didn't know I was in the adjoining room."
"What did she say on the phone?"
Chiara swallowed hard, her dark eyes lifting to meet his. "She was arguing with a man. She called him Lorenzo. She told him that she loved him, and that she was tired of pretending."
Alessandro’s jaw tightened so hard a muscle ticked visibly in his cheek.
"And what else did she say?" he pressed.
"She said that the poison was untraceable," Chiara whispered, a single tear spilling over her eyelashes. "She told him that on the night of your wedding, she would slip it into your champagne. She said that once you were dead, the syndicate would automatically fall to her, and she would transfer the empire to him."
Alessandro closed his eyes, processing the sheer magnitude of the betrayal. "Lorenzo," he murmured the name like a curse.
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He knew exactly who Lorenzo was. Lorenzo Falcone was a rival syndicate boss who had supposedly died in a fiery car crash three years ago. The body was burned beyond recognition, but the dental records had matched.
"He isn't dead," Alessandro whispered to the empty room, opening his eyes. "The bastard faked his death, planted his own secret wife in my life, and waited for me to hand over the keys to my kingdom."
