Chapter Three: The Man Behind the Desk

Isabella Moretti had imagined several possible outcomes during her journey to Romano International, but none involved standing in front of the man whose face had haunted her memories for three years.

The moment the elevator doors opened, she felt her confidence disappear.

Alessandro Romano stood beside the enormous windows of his executive office, speaking quietly with another man. His dark suit fitted perfectly, and his expression carried the same intimidating authority she remembered from that terrible morning.

For a moment, Isabella considered turning around.

She could pretend she had entered the wrong elevator, return to the reception desk, and invent an excuse for abandoning the interview. Unfortunately, the receptionist had already announced her arrival.

"Miss Moretti," Alessandro said, turning toward her. "Come in."

His voice was calm, but something about it made her heart race.

Isabella forced herself to walk forward.

"Good morning, Mr. Romano."

Alessandro studied her face.

"Have we met before?"

The question nearly destroyed her composure.

She had imagined him recognizing her immediately, perhaps becoming furious or demanding an explanation. Instead, he looked at her with genuine curiosity.

"No, sir," she answered carefully. "I don't believe we have."

His eyes remained fixed on hers for another moment before he gestured toward a chair.

"Sit down."

Marco Romano, who had been standing beside the desk, watched the exchange with interest.

Alessandro returned to his seat.

"I reviewed your qualifications. Your experience is impressive, particularly considering how recently you returned to Italy."

Isabella folded her hands in her lap.

"Thank you."

"Where were you living before?"

"France."

"For three years?"

She nodded.

Alessandro leaned forward.

"Why did you leave?"

The question sounded ordinary, but Isabella recognized the danger hidden beneath it.

"I wanted a fresh start."

"Most people don't disappear for three years simply because they want a fresh start."

Her breath caught.

Alessandro noticed.

"Is there something about that question you find uncomfortable?"

"Not particularly. I simply don't understand why my personal history matters so much for an employment interview."

Marco glanced at Alessandro, apparently surprised by her response.

A faint expression of amusement crossed the Mafia boss's face.

"Because I dislike employing people whose pasts I cannot understand."

"Then perhaps you should hire someone who has never experienced anything worth keeping private."

For several seconds, silence filled the office.

Then Alessandro laughed softly.

It was the first time Marco had heard him laugh during an interview.

"You have an interesting personality, Miss Moretti."

"I hope that isn't a disadvantage."

"Not necessarily."

He closed the folder.

"The position involves investigating sensitive matters, organizing confidential information, and working directly with me. You will occasionally encounter situations that require discretion."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

Isabella met his gaze.

"Yes."

Alessandro studied her for another moment.

"You're hired."

She blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Marco looked genuinely astonished.

"Alessandro, you haven't even checked her references."

"I already have."

Isabella stood, trying to conceal her relief.

"Thank you, Mr. Romano. I won't disappoint you."

Alessandro's expression changed slightly.

"One more thing."

She stopped.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever worked for someone who made you uncomfortable?"

Isabella hesitated.

"Yes."

"And what did you do?"

"I left."

Alessandro's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"Interesting."

She wondered whether he was testing her or simply making conversation.

"Your first assignment begins tomorrow," he continued. "Marco will explain everything."

Isabella thanked him again and hurried toward the door.

Just before she reached it, Alessandro spoke.

"Miss Moretti."

She turned.

"Your eyes remind me of someone."

The room suddenly felt smaller.

"Perhaps someone you knew?"

"Perhaps."

He dismissed her with a slight gesture, but his gaze followed her until the door closed.

Outside the office, Isabella leaned against the corridor wall and released a breath she had been holding.

She had survived the interview.

Alessandro Romano had looked directly at her without recognizing the woman he had spent three years searching for.

Yet his final remark frightened her more than anything else.

Her eyes reminded him of someone.

She needed to be careful.

Very careful.

Later that afternoon, Isabella collected Leonardo from the small childcare center near her apartment.

The little boy ran toward her, carrying a drawing.

"Mommy, look!"

She crouched and examined the paper.

It showed a large house, a small boy, and a tall man wearing a black suit.

"Who is this?" she asked, pointing toward the man.

Leonardo smiled.

"My daddy."

Isabella's heart tightened.

She had never shown him a photograph of Alessandro.

"Where did you see this man?"

Leonardo shrugged.

"I dreamed about him."

She gently folded the drawing and placed it inside her handbag.

"Come on, sweetheart. Let's go home."

But before they reached the car, a black vehicle pulled up beside them.

The rear window lowered.

Alessandro Romano sat inside.

His eyes moved from Isabella to the little boy beside her.

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Then Leonardo stepped forward, studying the unfamiliar man with extraordinary curiosity.

"Mommy," he whispered, tugging at her sleeve. "That's him."

Isabella froze.

Alessandro opened the car door.

"Miss Moretti," he said, his voice unexpectedly gentle. "I didn't know you had a son."

She struggled to answer.

"Yes. This is Leonardo."

Alessandro crouched slightly to look at the child.

"Hello, Leonardo."

The little boy examined his face.

Then, with the innocent confidence only a child could possess,

he asked:

"Why do you look like the man in my dream?"

Alessandro's expression changed.

Isabella felt the world slipping beneath her feet.

And for the first time in three years, she realized that hiding the truth might no longer be enough.