Chapter 2

The next morning, Matteo brought the official rescue report to the clinic. It was short and factual. Distress signal received at 10:47 p.m. Rescue completed at 11:03 p.m. Injuries: dislocated left shoulder and deep cut to right palm. No escort arrived at the scene. Every time stamp was exact to the minute.

By morning, Nico's promise to visit me still had not been kept.

While the nurse changed my dressing, the council photos had already spread through the family network. People recognized my pin. Plenty of them assumed Bianca was sitting next to Nico and wearing that pin with my approval.

At nine that morning, Bianca received her first invitation to an exclusive tasting. By ten, two businessmen who had previously refused to work with the Velvet Club were already offering her new deals. One invitation included a blunt note, "Backed by Alessia Moretti. Give her priority access."

She was using my name to open doors and make money.

At eleven, Bianca called me. She had already removed the pin, and she couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice.

"Alessia, I was just about to send the pin back. I didn't mean for last night's photo to give people the wrong idea. I never told anyone I was Nico's wife."

"Did you correct them on the spot?"

A short pause followed.

"The room was full of guests. Correcting everyone in the middle of the event would've caused a scene. Nico said we'd clear it up afterward, when we could do it quietly."

"And those two invitations from other business owners?"

"What they care about is the Velvet Club's track record."

I read the line at the bottom of one invitation aloud: "Backed by Alessia Moretti."

The excitement disappeared from Bianca's voice.

"I never asked them to write that."

"But you accepted it anyway."

"It's one event. You're the one who taught me to grab an opportunity when it comes."

"I taught you to seize your own opportunities, not mine."

Her lips tightened.

When she spoke again, she asked in a tearful voice, "Are you mad because Nico stayed with me last night? Now you're going after my business too?"

I didn't argue with her. Bianca knew exactly how to twist the facts, turning her misuse of my identity into a fight over a man. The old me would have rushed to prove I wasn't jealous, only to enable her to keep taking more and more from me.

This time, I simply hung up.

I asked the nurse to bring the computer to my bedside and called the family registrar.

"Freeze my authority. No one gets to use my name for another deal."

The registrar pulled up my account. The screen showed every deal currently backed by my name: the Velvet Club's operating guarantee, two payroll guarantees, three supplier clearances, and the temporary council authorization from the night before.

"You could revoke only the temporary authorization from last night. The Velvet Club's existing business permission wouldn't be affected," the registrar offered.

"Let every existing contract run to the end of its term. But approve nothing new under my name."

"Once your authority is frozen, anything your friend agreed to today can no longer be backed by you."

"That's exactly what I want."

I didn't use the chance to shut down the Velvet Club. I didn't cancel the payroll guarantees already in force. I simply drew a line. I would honor every promise I'd already made. But from this moment on, nobody got to make new promises in my name.

The registrar confirmed it one more time. "The freeze won't undo anything completed before today. But once it takes effect, no new deal can be made under your name. Are you certain?"

"Certain."

At 10:26 a.m., my authority was officially frozen. Seconds later, Nico called.

"Why would you freeze it now, of all times?"

"Because someone else is wearing my pin and using my name."

"I'm the one who gave Bianca the pin." Nico lowered his voice. "You can blame me. I'll explain everything once the council ends, but you don't need to humiliate her in front of everyone."

"She's using an identity that doesn't belong to her."

"I gave her that permission."

"Then take back the pin. Tell the registrar to issue a correction saying her seat was temporary and that she had no authority to use my name."

Nico went silent.

"Do that, and I can treat everything at Blackwater Docks as one terrible mistake. Then we can sit down and talk." It was the last peaceful way out I was willing to give our six-year relationship.

Nico said, "The council isn't over. If we issue a public correction now, Bianca will lose every invitation she got today. When the event ends, I'll bring the pin back to you myself."

"Nico, the damage is already done."

The other end went silent. For the first time, he seemed to hear what I was really saying.

His tone softened. "Alessia, we've been together for six years. Don't throw all of that away over one bad night."

"This was never about one bad night."

I hung up and messaged Sofia, accepting the job.

Sofia didn't ask what had changed so suddenly, but she had one condition. Marseille was neutral territory. Anyone still financially tied to another family couldn't touch the main books. Before I could start, I had to formally cut my business ties with the Berlandi family and surrender every shared privilege attached to their name.

Our marriage was recorded through a black-wax contract, split into two matching seals. One belonged to Nico. The other belonged to me. Ending it required 72 hours' advance notice and approval from Salvatore Berlandi, the don of the Berlandi family, the registrar, and one neutral witness. If either partner failed to appear after receiving proper notice, their silence counted as consent.

At one that afternoon, I filed the notice with all three parties. The countdown began.

The registrar warned me again, "Once your marriage is dissolved, your housing, vehicles, family security, and emergency medical privileges under the Berlandi family will end immediately."

"I understand."

"Mr. Valenti will receive the same notice."

I lowered my head and went through six years of old records, clearing every guarantee that still carried my name. The first was the one I had signed for Nico six years ago. The second was Bianca's, signed a year ago.

Back then, Bianca was just a singer at the Velvet Club. The previous owner had disappeared with the money, and nobody would back her when she tried to take over the business. She came to me in tears and said it was the only place where she could earn a living. I signed for her application. With me backing her, she went from a singer to the owner of the Velvet Club.

That guarantee had to be renewed every year. Every time the deadline approached, I had the paperwork prepared before she asked. She never had to remember when it expired.

I wasn't going to take back every bit of help I had given her. I only added one note to both expiring guarantees: Upon expiration, all future liability falls solely on the named party.

Tucked inside the ledger was an old note from Bianca, written the day she received her operating license. "Without you, I would have spent my whole life singing at somebody else's club. When my club turns its first real profit, I'll buy you the most expensive bottle we have."

She did. But somewhere along the way, Bianca seemed to forget that my signature wasn't just a favor on a piece of paper. If her club broke a contract, laundered money, or got mixed up in violence, I would be the first person held responsible.

I didn't tear up that old note. Bianca had meant those words when she wrote them. What she felt then was real. So was the line she was crossing now. Acknowledging the kindness we'd once shared didn't mean I had to accept what she was doing to me today.

When the registrar delivered the divorce notice to Nico, he was still in the council lounge. According to the report his deputy later filed, Nico read the document and said flatly, "She's trying to make me back down."

Then that notice was buried beneath the invitation to Bianca's private tasting the next day.