CHAPTER FIFTEEN : THE PRICE OF CRUELTY

Alessandro stood in the middle of the Rossi living room, his wife beside him.

His eyes moved from Roberto to Claudia, then finally to Bianca.

He was furious.

Not because they had lied to him. Not even because they had dared to insult his wife.

It was because they had locked her in a room like a prisoner and left her there.

"Do you have any idea what you have done?" he asked quietly.

Roberto swallowed.

"Mr. Moretti, please. This is a family misunderstanding."

Alessandro let out a humourless laugh.

"Misunderstanding?"

He pointed towards Isabella.

"You locked my wife in a room, frightened her and left her crying. And you have the audacity to call it a misunderstanding?"

Claudia stepped forward.

"We didn't mean to hurt her. She was being disrespectful, and we only wanted to teach her—"

"Shut up!"

His voice thundered through the room.

Claudia immediately stepped back.

Alessandro took a slow breath, struggling to contain the anger building inside him.

"I should have made you disappear from the surface of the earth for what you have done."

Roberto's knees nearly gave way.

"But since you are my wife's family, and therefore mine by marriage, I will allow my wife to determine your punishment."

He turned towards Isabella.

"Tell me, sweetheart. What do you want me to do with them?"

Isabella looked at him, then at the three people standing before her.

Her father.

Her stepmother.

Her stepsister.

These were the people she had once desperately wanted to love her. The people whose approval she had spent years trying to earn.

Now they were kneeling before her husband because they feared what he could do.

"Please, Isabella!" Roberto cried.

He dropped to his knees.

"I'm your father. Whatever happened, you must remember that!"

Claudia followed, her expensive dress spreading across the floor.

"Please forgive us. We didn't know you would bring your husband here."

Bianca was the last to kneel.

"Isabella, please. We're sisters. You can't let him destroy us."

Isabella stared at them.

A few hours earlier, she had come to this house hoping for answers. She had wanted her father to explain himself. Perhaps she had even hoped he would show some remorse.

Instead, they had locked her away.

She opened her mouth.

"I..."

Her voice came out weak.

Alessandro turned towards her.

"Take your time, amore. Whatever you decide, I will listen."

Isabella tried to speak again, but the room began spinning.

She had barely eaten breakfast. She had spent hours crying, struggling and pleading behind a locked door.

Her knees weakened.

"Alessandro..."

He caught her just as her eyes closed.

"Isabella!"

His arms tightened around her.

"Sweetheart? Open your eyes."

There was no response.

He looked at Marco.

"Get the car. Now!"

Marco immediately hurried outside.

Alessandro lifted Isabella into his arms, holding her fragile body against his chest.

Her head rested against his shoulder, and her fingers hung loosely beside her.

His fury was replaced by fear.

"Get the doctor to the mansion," he ordered.

Then he turned towards the family.

"Look at what you've done."

Nobody dared to speak.

Alessandro carried Isabella towards the entrance.

Just before stepping outside, he stopped.

Without turning fully around, he spoke to Marco's men.

"That settles it."

The guards straightened.

"Flog them until they faint from exhaustion. Every one of them."

Roberto's eyes widened.

"Please, Mr. Moretti!"

Alessandro looked over his shoulder.

"You had the opportunity to show my wife mercy. You chose cruelty instead."

He glanced down at Isabella.

"Now you will understand what it feels like to suffer the consequences of your actions."

He walked out.

The guards moved towards the three terrified members of the Rossi family.

Bianca began screaming.

"Isabella! Tell him to stop!"

But Isabella was already unconscious in her husband's arms.

Inside the car, Alessandro settled her carefully across the back seat.

He brushed the hair away from her forehead.

"Open your eyes, little one."

Nothing.

He pressed his lips together.

"Drive!"

The car sped towards the mansion.

He held Isabella's hand throughout the journey, occasionally checking her breathing.

He had faced armed enemies without blinking. He had watched men beg for their lives and felt nothing.

But seeing his wife unconscious in his arms frightened him in a way he couldn't explain.

"You're going to be fine," he whispered.

"Do you hear me? You're coming back to me."

The doctor was waiting when they arrived.

Alessandro carried Isabella straight to their bedroom and carefully placed her on the bed.

"What happened?" the doctor asked.

"She fainted. She was exhausted and had been under considerable stress."

The doctor examined her while Alessandro stood beside the bed, his hands clenched.

After several minutes, the doctor finally turned towards him.

"She's stable. Her blood pressure is low, and she appears dehydrated and physically exhausted. She needs fluids, food and proper rest. I'll continue monitoring her."

Alessandro nodded.

"Whatever she needs, provide it."

When the doctor left, Alessandro sat beside her.

He gently took her hand.

"You went there looking for answers," he murmured. "And they made you suffer instead."

He bent and kissed her forehead.

"I should have gone with you."

For the first time in a long while, the ruthless mafia king felt completely helpless.

His wife was lying unconscious in their bed, and all he wanted was to hear her voice again.

Then her fingers moved slightly against his palm.

Alessandro immediately leaned closer.

"Isabella?"

Her eyelids fluttered.

And slowly, she opened her eyes.