Chapter 3: Mrs. Moretti's Intervention

Demi’s POV

"I am not lying," I said loudly, my voice echoing in the massive room. My fear was quickly burning away, replaced by a desperate need to defend myself. "I did not plan this, and I did not ask for this. But I know what happened!"

The four towering men stared down at me. Their faces were carved out of stone, but I saw a flicker of reaction in their dark eyes.

"Oh, really?" Marco mocked, his tone dripping with pure ice. "You know what happened? Then tell us."

"I don't remember everything," I admitted, my hands balling into tight fists at my sides. "But I remember pieces. The man who pulled me into that dark booth at the Blue Cove... he had deep blue eyes. And thick, dark curly hair that I tangled my fingers into. I remember how heavy his hands felt on my hips." I swallowed hard, feeling a hot flush rise to my cheeks. "He kissed me. He bit my bottom lip so hard it bruised. He looked down at me and said, 'Open your mouth for me, sweet girl. Let me taste what belongs to me.'"

A heavy, suffocating silence dropped over the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the brothers tense up, his large jaw ticking violently, but they all looked so identical I couldn't tell who it was.

"We can prove it," I continued, turning to Bruno Moretti. "Just compare the signature on the marriage certificate to theirs. Look at the handwriting!"

Massimo let out a harsh, cruel laugh. "You really are stupid, aren't you? Our signatures are printed on millions of corporate documents worldwide. They are in magazines and on legal filings. Anyone with half a brain and a decent pen can forge them."

"I didn't forge anything!" I shouted.

"Enough of this nonsense!" Bruno roared, his face turning a dangerous shade of red. He pointed a thick finger at the guards. "I said get them out of my house! Throw them out the front gates right now!"

"Stop this, Bruno."

A soft, elegant voice cut through the shouting. An older woman walked into the room from a side door. She wore a stunning white dress, her silver hair pulled back into a neat twist. She carried an air of absolute authority, and the moment she spoke, the four massive brothers instantly stood up straighter.

Signora Giulia Moretti. The mother.

"You are acting like wild animals," Giulia said firmly, glaring at her husband and her sons. "You will not lay a hand on these women in my home." She turned her sharp gaze to my aunt. "Signora Elisabetta, please go to your car. I will speak with your niece alone."

"I am not leaving without my money!" Aunt Elisabetta screeched.

"Go to the car before I let my husband call the police," Giulia warned, her voice dropping perfectly low.

My aunt clamped her mouth shut and stormed out, dragging a furious Kira behind her. Once they were gone, Giulia looked at me. Her eyes were warm but calculating.

"Come with me, Demi," she said softly.

She led me down a long, quiet hallway into a beautiful private sunroom. She closed the glass doors behind us, shutting out the intimidating presence of her husband and her four giant, terrifying sons.

"Sit down," she offered, pointing to a floral armchair. "Now, tell me the real story. Not the garbage your greedy aunt was screaming about. Tell me what actually happened last night."

I sank into the chair, the exhaustion finally hitting my bones. I took a deep, shaky breath.

"I caught my boyfriend cheating on me yesterday afternoon," I whispered, staring down at my cheap sneakers. "In our bed. With two other girls. I was entirely devastated. I felt so worthless. I just wanted to go somewhere dark and forget my life for a few hours. I went to the Blue Cove."

Giulia sat across from me, listening silently.

"I don't know how I got into the restricted VIP area. I just wandered past a curtain," I continued, feeling the tears well up in my eyes again. "Some horrible older man cornered me. He was grabbing my arm, trying to force me to leave with him. I was terrified. And then... one of your sons stepped out of the shadows."

I closed my eyes, the memory flashing bright and hot in my mind.

"He grabbed the man by the throat and threw him away. Then he pulled me into his private booth," I said, my voice trembling. "I was crying so hard. But he wiped my tears away. He bought me a very expensive whiskey. We talked. He was so aggressive, but also... so gentle with me. He pulled me onto his lap. He told me I was too beautiful to cry over a loser. And then he kissed me."

I looked up at Giulia. "I swear to you, Signora Moretti, I didn't plan to marry him. We were just kissing, and the next thing I know, I am waking up in my own bed with that stupid paper on the floor. I don't want your family's money. I don't want fame. I just want to annul this accident and go back to my quiet life."

Giulia stared at me for a long time. Her eyes searched my face, looking for any trace of a lie. Finding none, a slow, gentle smile spread across her face.

"You are telling the truth," she murmured. "You are completely sincere."

"I am."

"Demi," Giulia leaned forward, resting her soft hands on her knees. "My sons are incredibly successful, but they are arrogant, entitled, and entirely out of control. They treat women like disposable toys. They think their wealth makes them gods."

I frowned in confusion. "I don't understand what this has to do with me."

"I am proposing a deal," she said clearly. "Do not annul this marriage. Stay married to whichever one of my sons is your husband for one full year. Live with him. Be his wife. You are grounded, you are sensible, and you have a good heart. I think you are exactly the kind of woman who can finally humble him."

My jaw dropped open. "Are you insane? I can't do that!"

"If you agree," Giulia continued smoothly, ignoring my panic, "I will personally wire twenty million euros into your aunt's bank account today. She will be so rich she will completely leave you alone forever. You will finally be free of her abuse."

Twenty million euros. The number was so large it didn't even sound real.

"No," I said flatly, shaking my head. "I am sorry, Signora. I can't be bought. I don't want to fix your son, and I don't want to be trapped in this crazy world. I just want to escape."

An hour later, I was sitting in the back of my aunt's car as we drove back to Milan. The ride was a nightmare.

"You stupid, worthless girl!" Aunt Elisabetta screamed from the driver's seat, hitting the steering wheel. "Twenty million euros! She offered you twenty million euros and you said no? I should kick you out of this moving car right now!"

"It's my life, Aunt Elisabetta!" I yelled back, finally finding my spine. "I am not selling myself to a dangerous billionaire just so you can buy expensive bags!"

"You are so pathetic," Kira sneered from the passenger seat, looking at me with pure disgust. "Any woman in the world would kill to be in your position. You have a Moretti husband. You could have endless wealth, and you are choosing to work in a dusty little bookstore. You are a complete loser, Demi."

"Just pull over," I demanded. We were driving through central Milan. "Drop me off at my job. I can't be around you two right now."

My aunt slammed on the brakes near the sidewalk. I shoved the door open and climbed out without another word. I walked quickly down the busy street until I reached The Paper Lantern, the small, independent bookstore where I worked.

I pulled my keys out, taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air. I just wanted to organize some shelves, smell the old paper, and forget this horrific morning.

"Demi. Please, baby, wait."

I froze. I knew that whiny, pathetic voice anywhere.

I turned around slowly. Iman stood on the sidewalk, looking miserable. He was holding a cheap bouquet of wilting roses.

"What are you doing here, Iman?" I asked coldly. "Get away from me."

"Demi, I am so sorry," Iman begged, stepping closer. "Those girls meant absolutely nothing to me. I was drunk. It was a stupid mistake! I never stopped thinking about you. I love you!"

"You are disgusting," I said, feeling my stomach turn. "Don't you ever speak to me again."

I turned to unlock the glass door of the bookstore, but Iman suddenly dropped the flowers and grabbed my shoulders. He spun me around violently. Before I could push him away, he smashed his mouth against mine.

It was a forceful, desperate kiss. But all I felt was total revulsion.

Instantly, my brain flashed back to last night in the dark booth of the Blue Cove. I remembered the massive, hot hands gripping my waist. I remembered the taste of expensive whiskey and danger. The Moretti brother had kissed me with such intense, consuming possession that it made my toes curl and my heart pound out of my chest. He tasted like power. He tasted like a man who took exactly what he wanted.

Compared to that, Iman's kiss felt weak, sloppy, and completely gross.

I shoved Iman hard in the chest, breaking the kiss. "Get off me!" I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, glaring at him.

Click.

I jumped, whipping my head to the side. Iman’s sleazy friend, Gary, was standing a few feet away, holding up his phone. A nasty smirk was plastered on his face.

"Got it," Gary laughed. "The media is going to love this. The brand new Mrs. Moretti, making out with her ex-boyfriend on the street! This picture will sell for thousands."

"Delete that right now!" I yelled, true panic flooding my veins. If the Morettis saw that, they would ruin me.

Gary just laughed harder, typing on his screen. "No way, sweetheart. I'm posting it right—"

Gary never finished his sentence.

A massive, towering figure in a sharp, pitch-black custom suit suddenly stepped out of the shadows of the alleyway. The man moved with terrifying, lethal speed. He snatched the phone right out of Gary's hands before the idiot could even blink.

Gary let out a surprised yelp, backing up. "Hey! What the hell are you doing?"

The man didn't say a single word. He simply raised his large, incredibly powerful hand and slammed the phone straight down onto the concrete pavement. The device shattered into a hundred broken pieces, glass flying everywhere. He lifted his expensive leather dress shoe and crushed the remains of the phone under his heel, destroying the memory card completely.

Iman and Gary both stared at the giant man in absolute terror, realizing exactly who they were looking at. They didn't say another word. They turned and ran down the street like scared little boys.

I stood frozen against the door of the bookstore, my heart hammering violently against my ribs.

The man turned around slowly. The afternoon sun hit his flawless, chiseled face. It was him. One of the brothers. His dark suit hugged his broad, muscular shoulders perfectly, and his dark hair was perfectly styled.

I stared at him through the reflection of the bookstore glass, my breathing turning shallow. Was it Marco? Massimo? Matteo? Michele? I couldn't tell. He looked exactly like the other three.

He took a slow step toward me, his intense, burning eyes locking onto my lips. A dark, incredibly dirty smirk curled the corners of his mouth. He stepped right up into my personal space, his towering body trapping me against the glass door. I could smell his intoxicating cologne.

He leaned down, his lips brushing right next to my ear. His hot breath sent a wild, electric shiver straight down my spine.

"Virgins don't kiss the way you just did," he murmured, his voice a deep, raspy purr that vibrated right through my chest. "You certainly didn't kiss me like that last night, sweet girl."