His Greatest Sin

The rain had stopped by morning, but the air in Verona was thick with tension.I was shaken awake by one of my father’s men. "Miss Rossi, your father wants you at the family headquarters. Immediately."I glanced at the clock. Six in the morning.Twenty minutes later, I stood before the heavy oak doors of the Rossi family boardroom. I could hear the low rumble of male voices, thick with the smell of cigar smoke."Isabella, come in," my father called.I pushed the door open and saw them. People who should not have been in this room together. The entire Moretti inner circle, including Dante.The two Dons sat at opposite ends of a long table, flanked by their most trusted men. A scene that hadn't happened in five years."Sit." My father gestured to the empty chair beside him.Dante sat across from me. He wore a dark grey, impeccably tailored suit, his hair perfectly combed. The wild man on my balcony last night might as well have been a ghost.Our eyes met for a second before we both looke

Three days later, all of Verona was talking about one thing: Dante Moretti had personally flown to Chicago and brought Clara back.I stood at my window and watched a luxury sedan glide past on the street below. Through the tinted glass, I could just make out Clara’s profile. She wore expensive pearls and a custom silk dress, as if the gaunt woman in the photos had never existed."Miss, your father will see you now," the maid said softly from the doorway.I turned and walked toward my father's study. The family portraits lining the hall seemed to judge me with their silent eyes. Isabella Rossi, the daughter who brought disaster to the family."Sit," my father, Lorenzo, said without looking up from his papers.I sat obediently, bracing for the lecture."The Morettis have pulled out of all our joint projects," he finally said, his sharp gaze pinning me to my seat. "They're reopening bids for the port contracts. The construction deals are terminated. Yesterday, their men blocked our land a

Clara knelt before the gates like a repentant sinner. She looked up at me, tears streaming down her face, her fragile beauty even more striking in its misery."Isabella," she sobbed, her voice trembling with despair. "I've come to apologize."Whispers rippled through the crowd. The reporters surged forward."Is that Clara? Why is she kneeling at the Rossi estate?""I heard she was Dante Moretti's ex…""She shows up on Isabella and Julian Torrino's wedding day? This is incredible!"Rage burned in my chest, but I forced myself to remain calm."Clara, get up," I said, my voice low. "We can talk about this in private.""No," she shook her head, tears tracing paths down her cheeks. "I have to say this in front of everyone. Isabella, I'm so sorry."Her voice grew louder, clearly playing to the reporters."Five years ago, I was young and foolish. I shouldn't have accepted Dante's kindness, I shouldn't have let him spoil me." She choked on a sob. "I knew you were engaged, but… I got carried aw

I looked at the desperation in Dante’s eyes and felt nothing.Once, those eyes were my whole world. Now, they were just a reminder of how foolish I had been.I reached out and took Julian's hand, lacing my fingers through his."Dante," my voice was as calm as a still lake. "Some things, once they're lost, can never be found again. Like trust. Like love."I turned to the assembled guests and my voice rang out, clear and final."I, Isabella Rossi, will marry Julian Torrino today. This is my choice, and it is my honor."Julian squeezed my hand, his gaze warm and solid.The color drained from Dante's face. He staggered back a step, as if he'd been shot."Isabella…" his voice was a broken whisper."Take Clara away," I ordered my men, my tone frigid. "She needs to 'rest'."Clara tried to struggle, but with the truth exposed, she had no fight left. Two bodyguards dragged her unceremoniously from sight."No! Dante, help me! She framed me! It's all lies!" her screams faded into the distance.Da