登入Arthur opened his briefcase and removed several documents. “The original agreement was drafted to protect both families from a financial dispute that had threatened to destroy them. It included provisions concerning a future marriage, but those provisions were never meant to be enforced without the consent of both parties.” “Yet they were,” Alessandro said. “Yes.” “Why?” Arthur adjusted his glasses. “Because I was instructed to amend the agreement.” “By whom?” “Your grandfather's estate representative.” “Name.” Arthur hesitated. “Gabriel Russo.” Marco's expression changed. “Our great-uncle?” “Yes. He presented documents indicating that both families had agreed to the amendment.” Valentina shook her head. “But Gabriel was dead before our marriage was announced.” Arthur nodded. “Which is why I should have questioned the documents.” Alessandro leaned forward. “You didn't?” “No.” “Why?” Arthur's fingers tightened around his walking stick. “B
Valentina woke up to the smell of something burning. She frowned into her pillow. Then came a loud crash from downstairs. “Alessandro!” No answer. She pushed herself upright, threw back the covers, and reached for her robe. Another crash. “Alessandro, what was that?” “Everything is under control!” That was never a reassuring answer coming from her husband. Valentina hurried downstairs, one hand resting against her stomach. She stopped at the kitchen entrance. Marco stood beside the island, holding a fire extinguisher. Alessandro was in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, staring at a frying pan like it had personally offended him. Smoke curled toward the ceiling. Valentina blinked. “What happened?” Marco pointed at Alessandro. “Your husband tried to make breakfast.” Alessandro turned. “I was making breakfast.” “You were committing a crime against eggs.” “Marco.” “What? The eggs were innocent. They didn't deserve that.” Valentina cove
She rested her face against his chest, listening to the steady beat beneath his shirt. For a while, neither of them spoke. He didn't tell her everything would be fine. He didn't promise that their families would stop hurting them or that the past would suddenly become less complicated. He simply held her. And for once, Valentina let herself be held without pretending she was strong enough to stand alone. Marco cleared his throat from the other side of the room. “I hate to interrupt, but if the two of you start crying any harder, I'm going to have to leave.” Valentina lifted her head. “Then leave.” “See? This is the gratitude I get for standing here while you both have an emotional breakthrough.” Alessandro glanced at him. “You could try being supportive.” “I am supportive. I'm supporting the wall. Very important work.” A small smile tugged at Valentina's mouth. Marco noticed it and relaxed a little. He had been watching his sister since they arrived, preten
Valentina couldn't stop looking at the photograph. A woman. A newborn baby. Isabella's name written on the back. And another message that seemed determined to turn their entire family history into something ugly. SHE WAS NEVER THE FIRST. “Put it away,” Valentina whispered. Alessandro glanced at her. “Cara....” “Please.” He slipped the photograph into his pocket without another word. She was tired. Not the kind of tired that disappeared after a good night's sleep. This exhaustion had settled deep in her bones, beneath her ribs, in the quiet corners of her mind where she kept all the things she was afraid to say aloud. Another secret. Another dead man's decision. Another reason to wonder whether the life she was building with Alessandro belonged to her at all. She lowered herself into a chair. Alessandro immediately crouched in front of her. “Are you hurting?” “No.” “Valentina.” “I'm not hurting physically.” She swallowed. “I'm just tired of being afrai
Antonio nodded. “He was the only person from our side who knew the full terms of the agreement.” Valentina looked at the ledger again. “Is he still alive?” “No.” “When did he die?” “Six years ago.” Alessandro's eyes narrowed. “Convenient.” “He died before the marriage arrangement was announced,” Antonio said. “But his daughter is alive.” Marco straightened. “Who?” “Claudia.” Valentina's stomach tightened. She knew that name. Claudia Russo had attended her father's birthday dinners when Valentina was younger. She was the elegant aunt who always wore expensive perfume, kissed Valentina's cheek, and asked questions that seemed harmless at the time. She had also been present at the family meeting when Valentina's marriage was announced. Valentina remembered how Claudia had watched her from across the room. Not with sympathy. With something closer to satisfaction. “She knew,” Valentina whispered. Antonio looked at her. “What?” “Claudia was there when you told me I was
Antonio Russo's words hung in the room. “He promised me that you would never marry my daughter.” Valentina stared at her father, one hand resting protectively over her stomach. “Then why did you arrange my marriage to Alessandro?” Antonio's eyes flickered toward Alessandro before returning to his daughter. For once, the man who had always carried himself like he had answers to every question looked like a man who had spent years running from one. “I didn't arrange your marriage, Valentina.” She frowned. “What?” “Your grandfather did.” Silence swallowed the room. Marco slowly lowered the document he had been reading. “Our grandfather?” he asked. Antonio nodded. “Both of your grandfathers were involved. Your grandfather, Salvatore Russo, and Alessandro's grandfather, Don Matteo De Luca. They made the arrangement long before either of you was born.” Alessandro's expression hardened. “My grandfather died when I was twenty. He never mentioned any arrangement







