CHAPTER NINE : THE WOMAN THEY UNDERESTIMATED

The moment Alessandro Moretti's black car entered the company compound, employees began gathering near the entrance.

Isabella watched through the window, surprised by the sudden activity.

"Are they expecting someone important?" she asked.

Alessandro adjusted his cufflinks. "They are expecting their boss."

She turned to him. "You?"

He glanced at her. "Did you think I owned these companies for decoration?"

She laughed softly, and he found himself smiling before he could stop himself.

The car came to a halt. A security officer opened the door, and Alessandro stepped out first. He offered Isabella his hand, helping her down onto the pavement.

Immediately, the employees straightened.

"Good morning, sir!"

"Welcome back, Mr. Moretti!"

"Good morning, Mr. Moretti!"

Their greetings followed them toward the building. Some bowed their heads respectfully; others looked relieved to see him after his long absence from the company's daily operations.

Isabella held Alessandro's arm, trying not to look overwhelmed.

"Do they always do this?" she whispered.

"Only when they want me to believe they've missed me."

She covered a laugh with her hand.

An employee approaching with a folder heard him and smiled nervously. Alessandro took the documents, asked two brief questions about a delayed project, and continued walking.

Isabella watched how naturally he moved through the building. People listened when he spoke, but he didn't need to shout to command their attention.

She was beginning to understand something important.

Alessandro wasn't powerful only because people feared his family.

He was also a businessman who had built an empire, and the people working for him depended on the decisions he made.

Inside the executive office, he introduced her to the managing director, Mr. Conti.

"This is my wife, Isabella Moretti. She'll be learning about our legitimate operations."

Mr. Conti looked momentarily surprised before offering her a respectful greeting.

"Welcome, Mrs. Moretti. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Isabella smiled. "Thank you. I hope I won't ask too many questions."

"Ask as many as you need," Alessandro said, pulling out a chair for her. "That's why you're here."

She sat down, opened her notebook, and listened as the team discussed a new property development.

For the next hour, she asked questions about expenses, staffing, and the company's plans for expansion. Some questions made the executives pause to consider details they had overlooked.

Alessandro noticed.

So did Mr. Conti.

"Your wife has a good eye for detail," the director remarked when the meeting ended.

Alessandro glanced at Isabella, who was busy putting away her notes.

"She's learning quickly."

She looked up at him. "I hope that's a compliment."

"It is."

His answer brought a smile to her face.

Neither noticed the woman standing outside the glass entrance to the reception area, staring at them in disbelief.

Bianca Rossi had come to the company for an entirely different reason. She had recently taken an administrative job at a small firm that shared a business complex with one of the Morettis' subsidiaries. She was on her way to meet a colleague when she heard employees welcoming their boss.

Then she saw Alessandro.

She recognized his face from. Everyone in Milan knew the name Alessandro Moretti, even those who had never met him.

The ruthless businessman.

The man people whispered about.

The devil her family had always associated with Isabella's terrible fate.

Bianca's eyes moved to the woman sitting beside him.

Isabella.

Her stepsister was wearing an elegant cream dress, her hair neatly styled, a delicate watch on her wrist. She looked comfortable in the expensive office, asking questions while Alessandro listened to her.

Bianca's mouth fell open.

"No," she whispered.

A passing employee glanced at her, but Bianca barely noticed.

She had imagined Isabella locked away in some frightening mansion, crying herself to sleep while the Moretti family treated her like a servant. She had expected her to become thinner, paler, and more miserable.

Instead, Isabella looked better than she had in years.

And Alessandro was looking at her as though her questions mattered.

Bianca's nails dug into her handbag.

It wasn't fair.

She had spent years watching Isabella receive the smallest portion of everything, from affection to money. Bianca had always believed that Isabella's meekness made her easy to control.

Now that same girl had become the wife of one of the wealthiest and most feared men in Milan.

A man who could give Isabella anything.

A man who could open doors Bianca had only dreamed of entering.

And Isabella didn't even seem to understand how lucky she was.

Bianca stepped away from the glass before anyone could recognize her.

Her mind was already working.

If Isabella could become Alessandro Moretti's wife, then perhaps there was more to gain from this marriage than Bianca had imagined.

And if Alessandro had chosen Isabella, Bianca would simply have to make him see that he had chosen the wrong sister.

That evening, Isabella returned to the mansion with a folder full of notes and an appetite she had nearly forgotten about.

Alessandro noticed her enthusiasm as she sat beside him at dinner.

"You enjoyed the visit."

"Very much. Mr. Conti explained the property project after the meeting. I think I understand why you were concerned about the budget."

"And what did you conclude?"

She explained her thoughts carefully, occasionally stopping to make sure she had understood the figures correctly.

Alessandro listened without interrupting.

When she finished, he leaned back in his chair.

"You're not afraid to question a decision once you've understood it."

"Should I be?"

"No." A faint smile touched his lips. "I would rather you ask than pretend to understand something you don't."

She smiled, pleased by his answer.

For a moment, the world outside the dining room seemed distant. Isabella was beginning to feel that she could build a place for herself in this unfamiliar life—not by becoming ruthless, but by learning, asking questions, and discovering what she was capable of.

Then Alessandro's phone rang.

He answered, listened for a few seconds, and his expression changed.

"Who is this?" he demanded.

A pause.

"How did you get this number?"

He ended the call and placed the phone on the table.

Isabella's smile faded.

"Is something wrong?"

"Someone called from an unknown number."

"What did they want?"

"They asked whether my wife was enjoying her new life."

A chill passed through her.

"Did they say who they were?"

"No."

Alessandro reached for his phone again and called Marco.

"I want the number traced. And find out whether anyone has approached my wife's family."

Isabella looked up sharply.

"My family?"

"I don't know if they're involved. But I won't ignore the possibility."

She thought of Roberto, Claudia, and Bianca. She had not heard from any of them since the wedding.

Perhaps they were relieved to be rid of her.

Perhaps they had already forgotten her.

Or perhaps they were thinking about her for reasons she couldn't imagine.

Across Milan, Bianca sat in her bedroom while Claudia listened to her account.

"You saw Isabella with Alessandro Moretti?" Claudia asked.

"I saw her sitting in his office as though she belonged there. The employees were greeting him like a king, and he introduced her as his wife."

Claudia's expression sharpened.

"Then your father did better than we thought."

"Better?" Bianca snapped. "Isabella has everything now! Look at the clothes she's wearing. Look at the way people treat her. She has a powerful husband, servants, security, and access to his companies."

"Lower your voice."

"Why should I? She was supposed to suffer. We sent her away because we thought the Moretti devil would make her regret being born."

Claudia glanced toward the closed bedroom door.

"Your father settled his debt. That's what mattered."

"Not to me."

Bianca rose and paced across the room.

She remembered the way Alessandro had pulled out Isabella's chair, how he had listened to her questions, and how she had smiled at him without appearing terrified.

Isabella had never looked at Bianca that way—not with confidence, not with the quiet certainty that she deserved to be there.

And Bianca hated her for it.

"What are you planning?" Claudia asked.

Bianca stopped pacing.

"First, I need to get closer to Alessandro. There must be a way to meet him without Isabella standing beside him."

"He's married."

"So? Men like him have business associates, parties, and events. I don't have to approach him as another woman. I can approach him as someone who understands business."

Claudia studied her daughter's face.

"And if Isabella finds out?"

Bianca's lips curved into a cold smile.

"She won't know anything until I decide she should."

She picked up her phone and searched for information about the upcoming gathering hosted by Victor Salvatore.

When she found the announcement, her eyes lit up.

Several powerful businessmen were expected to attend.

Including Alessandro Moretti.

Bianca stared at the screen, an idea taking shape.

She didn't know Victor personally, and she had no intention of getting involved in whatever rivalry existed between the men. She only needed an opportunity to make herself visible to Alessandro.

If Isabella could rise from their father's neglected household to become Mrs. Moretti, Bianca could surely find a way to get his attention.

She began typing a message to an acquaintance who might help her secure an invitation.

She had no idea that the gathering she was targeting was already on Alessandro's security team's watch list.

And she had no idea that her attempt to step into her stepsister's new world might place both women in the path of a dangerous man.