Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

Conversation with Richard 

Isabella's POV

The first light of dawn had barely crept through the heavy velvet drapes when Richard gently shook my shoulder. I stirred, my eyes heavy and gritty from the few hours of restless sleep I’d managed after Salvatore’s menacing messages. 

My body ached with exhaustion, both physical and emotional, but Richard’s voice was soft, almost apologetic, as he leaned over me.

“Isabella, darling. Wake up. I’m sorry to disturb you so early, but there’s something important I need to speak with you about before the day begins.”

I blinked against the soft glow of the bedside lamp he’d turned on, sitting up slowly in our grand four-poster bed. The Egyptian cotton sheets pooled around my waist, and I pulled them closer, suddenly self-conscious. 

Richard was already dressed in a crisp white shirt and trousers, looking every bit the composed businessman even at this hour. He sat on the edge of the mattress, his hand covering mine.

“You only slept a few hours,” he said, concern etching his silver brows.

 “After that nightmare last night… I hate to add to your burdens, but this can’t wait.”

I nodded, forcing a small smile despite the knot in my stomach.

 “It’s alright, I'm all ears now?”

He took a deep breath, his thumb stroking the back of my hand in that old-school, gentlemanly way that always made me feel seen.

 “First, I want you to know that I’ve handled the situation with your family’s debt. Completely. The solicitors finalized everything yesterday afternoon. The loans your father took out—the ones that were crushing your family—have been cleared. No more calls, no more letters, no more late-night tears from your mother. It’s done. You’re free from that weight now.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. Relief washed over me like a warm tide, but it was quickly followed by a sharp twist of guilt. This was why I had married him, after all. Yet here he was, looking at me with such sincerity.

“I’m truly sorry, Isa,” he continued, using the nickname he’d adopted for me with such affection. 

“I wedded you not because of that debt. At first, perhaps it started as a solution for both of us, but these past days… I’ve realized I really love you. Deeply. You’ve brought light into my life when I thought it had dimmed forever. I want this marriage to be real, not transactional. I want to build something lasting with you.”

His words hung in the quiet elegance of our matrimonial room—the cream and gold walls glowing softly in the early light, the fresh roses on the dresser still fragrant, the neat order of everything reflecting his steady nature. 

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding. The weight of secrets pressed down on me. I couldn’t carry them anymore.

“Richard… there’s something you need to know,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

 “Before we go any further. I dated your son years ago. Salvatore. Five years ago, to be exact. It was serious. We were in love—or at least I thought we were. But then… your instructions came through your insurance people. They told me I had to leave him if I wanted you to clear the debt my father owed. In your words—or at least the message they delivered—your son shouldn’t be doing anything with a girl from a poor family.”

Richard froze. His hand stilled on mine. For a long moment, the only sound was the distant chirping of birds outside the tall windows. His sharp eyes widened in realization, searching my face as if seeing me for the first time.

“Wait… were you the lady my insurance team told to leave my son?” he asked slowly, his voice laced with shock.

 “I mean, I gave that order back then. I was protective—too protective, perhaps. I never wanted Salvatore distracted by someone I thought might not fit our world. But I never knew it was you, Isabella. I had no idea. God, if I had known…”

“Yes,” I confirmed, tears slipping down my cheeks now. “I had to leave him. I really wanted my family to be free from this debt. My mother’s tears at night, the constant fear of losing everything… I couldn’t watch them suffer anymore. So I ended things with Salvatore. I disappeared from his life without a proper goodbye. It broke me, but I did it for them.”

Richard’s face crumpled with regret. He pulled me into his arms immediately, holding me tight against his chest. 

“Oh, my darling Isa. I am so deeply sorry. I was arrogant, blind. I thought I was protecting my son, protecting the family name. But I hurt you. I hurt both of you. Please forgive me. I will make this right. I swear it.”

He pleaded with such sincerity, his voice breaking slightly in a way I’d never heard from the powerful Richard Moretti. He stroked my hair, kissed my forehead, and whispered promises of a better future—one without secrets or old wounds. For the first time since the wedding, I felt a genuine flicker of hope in this marriage.

Then, without hesitation, he reached for his phone on the nightstand. “This ends today,” he said firmly, dialing a number. It was still very early, but he didn’t care. When my father answered, sounding sleepy and surprised, Richard’s tone was warm and commanding.

“Mr. Gerald? This is Richard Moretti. Yes, your son-in-law. I’d like to invite you and the entire family over this evening for dinner. A proper feast to celebrate our new union and to reconcile as in-laws.

 Bring everyone—your wife, the children. No excuses. We have much to be thankful for, and I want to make things right for Isabella’s sake. Yes… See you at seven.”

He hung up and smiled at me, wiping my tears away with his thumb. 

“There. Your family will be here tonight. No more hiding in the shadows.”

I was so happy I could hardly contain it. The rest of the morning passed in a joyful blur. I helped the staff prepare, choosing flowers and menus with renewed energy despite my lack of sleep. By evening, the mansion buzzed with life. 

My parents arrived first, my mother’s eyes shining with gratitude as she hugged me tightly. “You did it, my girl,” she whispered. “We’re free.” My siblings laughed and explored the grand rooms, their faces lit up with excitement they hadn’t shown in years.

 The dining hall was transformed—long tables laden with Italian delicacies, fine wines, and candlelight that danced off the crystal chandeliers. Laughter filled the air as Richard played the perfect host, charming everyone with stories and toasts.

I watched it all with a full heart, seated beside Richard, his hand warm on mine under the table. My family looked so happy, so relieved. For the first time in months, the weight of debt and desperation had lifted. We shared memories, raised glasses to new beginnings, and the merriment flowed easily. 

I didn't see Salvatore all through, I was just looking for him with my eyes while seated.

Richard leaned in at one point, whispering, “This is what I want for us, Isa. Family. Real family.”

The evening stretches out as a beautiful one till we hear a smooth wheel noise from the gate entrance.

We all turned to see a sleek black luxury car pull up. The driver stepped out and began unloading several designer suitcases from the trunk.

Salvatore emerged first from the backseat, tall and commanding in a black shirt, his expression unreadable. He extended a hand and helped a woman out after him—elegant, poised, with sharp features and dark hair swept into a flawless chignon. 

She looked around the estate with familiar authority, directing the driver with a wave of her hand. Even from a distance, her presence commanded attention. It was Richard’s ex-wife. Salvatore’s mother.

Richard stiffened beside me, his grip on my hand tightening involuntarily. My stomach dropped as recognition hit. I have seen her old pictures and I recognized her real quick. But Richard told me she's never coming back.

She was back, and Salvatore had clearly gone to bring her.

The laughter around the table faded into murmurs of surprise. Richard muttered under his breath, “What the hell is she doing here?”

As they approached the grand entrance, Salvatore’s eyes locked directly onto mine through the glass. A dark, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips.

 He leaned in slightly as they passed near our table, his voice low enough for only me to hear.

“Because of what you deprived me of last night.”

The reconciliation feast had just taken a dangerous turn.