CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE : A FATHER'S REQUEST

Bianca paced across her bedroom, her phone pressed tightly against her ear.

“Did you see what they posted?” she demanded. “They made Isabella look like some innocent victim, and now everyone is praising her.”

Roberto sighed on the other end. “What exactly did you expect?”

“I expected them to be embarrassed by her! Instead, Alessandro's mother stood beside her, his father defended her, and the whole family acted as though she had done nothing wrong.”

“Then perhaps you should have thought before posting those pictures.”

Bianca stopped pacing.

“Are you blaming me?”

“I'm telling you that you have made enough noise. The Morettis are not the kind of family you can provoke without consequences.”

Bianca scoffed. “You sound frightened of them.”

“I have reasons to be.”

For a moment, neither spoke.

Roberto sat behind his desk, staring at the documents scattered before him. His financial problems had not disappeared simply because Isabella had married a wealthy man. If anything, they had become worse. He had debts to settle, people demanding answers, and a growing fear that his earlier dealings with Victor Salvatore might eventually catch up with him.

“Does Isabella still work with the foundation?” he asked suddenly.

Bianca frowned. “Yes. Why?”

“What exactly does she do there?”

“I don't know. She attends meetings with Alessandro's mother. They seem to trust her.”

Roberto leaned back.

“Has she been given access to the financial records?”

“I said I don't know, Father. Why are you asking?”

“Because I need to speak with her.”

Bianca laughed bitterly. “You want to speak with Isabella? After everything?”

“She is still my daughter.”

“Funny. You didn't seem to remember that when you handed her over to Alessandro.”

Roberto's expression hardened.

“Watch your mouth, Bianca.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”

“Arrange a meeting. Tell her I want to apologise.”

Bianca hesitated.

“You want to apologise?”

“I said arrange the meeting.”

He ended the call before she could ask another question.

---

At the Moretti mansion, Isabella sat beside Elena in the foundation's private office, reviewing the response to the photographs Bianca had posted.

The foundation had released a statement clarifying that the children's visit had been arranged with the home's management and that their privacy was being protected. The photographs had also been removed after the home's director formally complained.

“I still feel terrible,” Isabella admitted. “Those children didn't deserve to be dragged into a family disagreement.”

Elena placed a reassuring hand over hers.

“You did your best to protect them. Don't take responsibility for something Bianca chose to do.”

Isabella nodded, although the guilt had not completely disappeared.

The office door opened, and Valentina walked in carrying two cups of coffee.

“Please tell me we're finished discussing Bianca,” she said, placing one cup in front of Isabella. “I've heard her name more times this week than I care to count.”

Elena chuckled.

“Your sister-in-law has had a difficult few days.”

Valentina pulled out a chair. “And she's handled them better than most people would.”

Isabella lowered her eyes, embarrassed by the praise.

“I only did what I thought was right.”

“Exactly,” Valentina replied. “And you shouldn't have to defend that every five minutes.”

Her phone vibrated on the table.

Isabella glanced at the screen.

Bianca.

Her smile disappeared.

Elena noticed immediately. “Is something wrong?”

“It's my sister.”

“Are you going to answer?”

Isabella hesitated before picking up.

“Hello?”

“Isabella.” Bianca's voice sounded unusually calm. “We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“Father wants to see you.”

Isabella's fingers tightened around the phone.

“Why?”

“He wants to apologise. He's been asking about you.”

She almost laughed. Her father had barely asked whether she was alive when she was still living under his roof. Now, suddenly, he wanted to see her.

“I don't think that's necessary.”

“Don't be childish, Isabella. He's your father.”

The familiar words stirred something uncomfortable in her chest.

“I'll think about it.”

“Good. I'll tell him.”

Bianca ended the call.

Isabella slowly lowered her phone.

Elena waited a moment before speaking.

“Was that Roberto?”

She nodded.

“He wants to apologise.”

Valentina exchanged a look with her mother.

“And do you want to see him?” Elena asked gently.

Isabella stared at the phone.

“I don't know. Part of me wants to hear him say he was wrong. But another part of me remembers how he looked at me when he told me I was going to marry Alessandro.”

“You don't owe him a meeting just because he has finally decided to ask for one,” Elena said.

Isabella swallowed.

“I know.”

“And if you decide to see him, you won't have to do it alone.”

For the first time since Bianca's call, Isabella felt some of the tension leave her shoulders.

---

Alessandro returned home that evening to find Isabella sitting in the bedroom, staring out of the window.

He loosened his tie and approached her.

“You've been quiet.”

She turned towards him. “Bianca called.”

His expression changed slightly.

“What did she want?”

“Father wants to see me. He says he wants to apologise.”

Alessandro watched her carefully.

“And what do you want?”

“I don't know.” She looked down at her hands. “I thought hearing him apologise would make me feel better. But now that he wants to see me, I'm not sure I can face him.”

“You don't have to.”

She looked up.

“He's still my father.”

“And you're still his daughter. That doesn't mean he has the right to hurt you whenever he wishes.”

Isabella was quiet.

Alessandro sat beside her, leaving enough space for her to move closer if she wanted.

“If you decide to meet him, I'll arrange it somewhere safe. If you don't, I'll respect that too.”

She studied his face.

“You won't be angry?”

“Why would I be angry?”

“Because it's my family. They keep bringing problems into your life.”

His jaw tightened.

“Isabella, listen to me. You are not a problem I married into. Your father's decisions are his responsibility, not yours.”

Her eyes grew warm.

She leaned against his shoulder, and he gently wrapped an arm around her.

After a moment, she whispered, “I think I want to hear what he has to say. But I don't want to go back to that house.”

“Then you won't.”

He kissed the top of her head.

---

Across the city, Roberto stood in a dimly lit office, listening to a man on the other end of his phone.

“Have you spoken to your daughter?” the man asked.

“Bianca has contacted her. She is arranging a meeting.”

“And the foundation?”

Roberto glanced at the closed office door.

“I don't know how much access Isabella has. But she is close to Alessandro's mother now.”

There was a pause.

“Find out whether she has access to the donation records. I want to know what the Morettis are doing with the money connected to my company.”

Roberto swallowed.

“I thought you said you only wanted information about the foundation.”

“I want to know what they know about us, Roberto. Especially after that donation was questioned.”

The call ended.

Roberto stared at his phone.

He had told himself that asking to see Isabella was only about making peace with his daughter.

But the truth was that he needed something from her.

And he was beginning to realise that getting it might be much harder than he expected.

At the Moretti mansion, Alessandro's phone lit up with a message from Marco.

We've confirmed something about the Salvatore-linked donation. It wasn't made through the company we originally suspected. Roberto Rossi's name appears in the transaction records.

Alessandro's eyes narrowed.

He looked across the room at Isabella, who was still leaning against him.

Her father was coming back into their lives.

And this time, Alessandro intended to find out exactly why.