Chapter 2

The words stared back at Alessia.

DO NOT TRUST LORENZO.

For a moment, everything around her disappeared.

The damaged archive.

The scattered documents.

The sound of workers moving outside.

None of it mattered.

All she could see was her father's handwriting.

A warning from a man who had vanished years ago.

A warning about the one person she had once trusted more than anyone.

Lorenzo Moretti.

"Alessia."

His voice pulled her back.

She quickly folded the envelope.

Too quickly.

But Lorenzo noticed.

Of course he did.

The man standing before her had built a billion-dollar empire by noticing things other people missed.

"What is it?"

His eyes moved from her face to the envelope in her hand.

She hesitated.

For six years, she had imagined what she would say if she ever saw him again.

She had imagined anger.

Accusations.

Questions.

She had never imagined standing in front of him with a message that could destroy him.

"I don't know."

The lie came out before she could stop it.

Lorenzo's expression hardened.

"You don't know?"

Alessia looked away.

"I found an old note."

"From who?"

The question was calm.

But she heard the tension beneath it.

She closed her fingers around the envelope.

"Someone connected to the hotel."

Lorenzo studied her.

Six years ago, he would have known when she was hiding something.

Now he only knew that she was hiding something.

And somehow, that hurt more.

"You always did this."

Her eyes lifted.

"Did what?"

"Decided what information people deserved to know."

The accusation hit harder than she expected.

Because a part of her knew he was right.

"You think I'm the only one who kept secrets?"

A shadow crossed his face.

For a second, the billionaire disappeared.

The man she remembered appeared.

The man who had been hurt.

Then it was gone.

"Not this conversation."

He turned away.

"Security will investigate the break-in."

Alessia frowned.

"That's it?"

"What else?"

"Someone broke into a restricted archive."

"And we will handle it."

"We?"

He looked at her.

"You are working on this project, Alessia. Whatever affects the hotel affects you too."

The words were professional.

But something about them felt different.

Like he was trying very hard not to care.

The rest of the afternoon passed in silence.

Alessia reviewed the restoration plans.

Lorenzo handled calls with investors.

They moved around each other like strangers.

But every now and then, she caught him looking at her.

Not with anger.

With something more complicated.

Regret.

That evening, Alessia returned to the guest room prepared for her.

She placed her suitcase down and finally opened the envelope.

Her hands shook.

Inside was a single piece of paper.

No date.

No explanation.

Only a message.

Alessia,

If you are reading this, then the truth has finally started coming out.

I am sorry that you have been forced to face this.

There are things I should have told you before I disappeared.

Her heart tightened.

She continued reading.

The Morettis are not the enemy you believe them to be.

She stopped.

Her eyes moved back to the words.

That was not what she expected.

Then the next sentence appeared.

But Lorenzo knows more than he has ever admitted.

A knock interrupted her.

She quickly folded the letter.

"Come in."

The door opened.

Lorenzo.

For a moment, neither spoke.

"What do you want?"

His eyes moved around the room.

Then back to her.

"I wanted to make sure you were safe."

The answer surprised her.

"Safe?"

"Someone broke into the archive."

"You think they will come after me?"

"I think whoever did it knows something important is hidden."

A pause.

"And now they know you found it."

Alessia studied him.

There was genuine concern in his voice.

It confused her.

Because the warning in her hand told her to fear him.

But the man standing before her looked like someone trying to protect her.

"Why do you care?"

The question escaped.

Lorenzo went still.

For a moment, she saw the pain she had caused.

"I spent six years trying not to care."

His voice was quiet.

"But apparently I failed."

The honesty caught her off guard.

Before she could respond, his phone rang.

He answered.

His expression changed almost immediately.

"What happened?"

A pause.

"Where?"

He looked toward Alessia.

"We're coming."

He ended the call.

"What is it?"

"The security team found something."

"What?"

Lorenzo hesitated.

Then:

"They found another hidden room."

They rushed back to the archive.

A section of the wall behind an old bookshelf had been opened.

Inside was a small chamber.

Unlike the damaged archive, this room had been untouched.

Preserved.

Waiting.

On the wall was the same symbol Alessia had seen earlier.

Her father's symbol.

Lorenzo stepped inside.

Then stopped.

Because on the table in the center of the room was a photograph.

Old.

Faded.

But clear enough.

It showed two men standing in front of Grand Hotel Vittoria.

One was Antonio Conti.

The other was Lorenzo's father.

Matteo Moretti.

Together.

Smiling.

Like friends.

Not enemies.

Alessia looked at Lorenzo.

"Your father knew mine."

Lorenzo stared at the photograph.

His face had lost all color.

Because he knew something she didn't.

Something he had never told anyone.

"I thought this was impossible."

"What?"

He picked up the photograph.

His voice was barely a whisper.

"Because my father told me Antonio

Conti was the reason this family was destroyed."

The room fell silent.

Two families.

Two versions of the truth.

And somewhere between them...

A secret had been buried for decades.