The Heir’s Game

Damiano 

Lorenzo didn’t bother knocking. He never did. The glass door swung open, and he stepped inside my office with the same irritated energy I felt toward him most days.

“Why did you send Tony to my house?” he demanded, stopping in front of my desk.

“Because you weren’t answering your calls.”

“It was one missed call…”

“It was seven,” I cut in sharply. “And my time isn’t something anyone wastes. Not even you.”

Lorenzo exhaled sharply, biting back whatever insult he wanted to throw. He’d known me long enough to understand that when I needed someone to do something,I needed them immediately. “So?” I asked. “You’re here now. What do you want?”

He shifted his weight. “I heard news about the Russo girl.”

My jaw ticked. “Aria?.”

“Who else?” he snapped.

“Oh!”

“Yeah, I heard people talking.” Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, “ And you didn’t tell me anything about it.” 

I closed the folder on my desk. “It’s final.”

“Damiano…”

“She is the repayment for her family’s debt, I don’t owe the Russos charity. They owe me money. Money they don’t have.”

He stared at me for a long moment, searching for my expression. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Before I could respond, a familiar soft laugh drifted from the doorway.

Isabella.

The woman after my heart, the girl I just can’t get over. She walked in like the sun had followed her, hips swaying, eyes bright. My favorite kind of trouble. Without hesitation, she cat walked over, straddled my lap and her arms looping around my neck. 

“Am I interrupting?” she purred.

Lorenzo cleared his throat. “Yes. Completely.” He snapped.

Isabella smiled as if that delighted her.

“Go,” I told him mildly. “We’re done. Nothing else to talk about.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He stepped out, closing the door behind him, and Isabella immediately locked it. Then she kissed my jaw, my neck, my mouth, slow and warm.Her lips brushed mine as she whispered, “What did Lorenzo want?”

“The Russo situation.” I dragged a hand up her spine. “He’s concerned.”

She made a soft noise of annoyance. “Do you really need to do this? We can just get a surrogate.”

“ I can’t, it needs to be legal!” I stilled her chin between my fingers. “And if the world finds out I used a surrogate, it’ll destroy our image and I’ll lose every chance in getting into the sovereign circle alongside the image the Moretti family had built for years and my dad won't sit still on me. This is the best option.”

 I leaned even closer. “A substitute bride is perfect. Quiet, controllable and disposable.” I winked.

Isabella’s lashes fluttered. I watched her mind work, calculating the same way mine always did.“Fine,” she murmured eventually. “I agree!” She kissed me again. “And after she gives birth…” Isabella raised an eyebrow. “We'll get rid of her. And I'll take over as the mother.”

A smile ghosted across my mouth. “Exactly. A natural death. Tragic one, the kind the world will believe.” I brushed a finger over her cheek. 

A dark spark lit her eyes. She liked the idea more than she wanted to admit. “When’s the wedding?” she asked.

“Soon,” I replied. “In Two days.”

She grinned. “Good. Let’s celebrate.” I pulled me off my chair. We left the office hand in hand, her laughter echoing down the hallway as she dragged me toward the elevator.

TWO HOUR LATER

After Isabella left humming, smelling like sex and expensive perfume I remained standing in front of the floor to ceiling window of my penthouse. My body was relaxed, but my mind wasn’t. I had barely reached for the glass of scotch when my phone vibrated.

It was Dad. A call I never ignored.          

I answered.“Dad.”

His voice came deep, commanding, irritated.“Damiano. I’ve spoken with the council. Your evaluation for entry into The Sovereign Circle is approaching.”

My jaw tightened. “You already told me it was postponed.”

“Yes,” he snapped. “And now it cannot be postponed again. You need an heir. And you need a legitimate marriage to secure the Moretti line.”

I exhaled slowly. “I’m working on it.”

“Work faster,” he barked. “You were born late, Damiano. Your younger brother is already making the moves you should have made years ago. If you don’t produce an heir soon within the year I’ll have no choice but to put him forward instead.”

The words hit harder than a punch. Replace me? Give my birthright to Lucas? Impossible. Unacceptable.

Dad continued, his voice booming through the speaker. “If you fail to secure an heir, you’ll lose everything. The Moretti name, the sovereign circle, the chair, the future. And I will not let your delays drag this family down.”

My pulse hardened.“I understand,” I replied, each word clipped steel. “It’s handled.”

“It better be,” he growled. “Your window is closing. Move.” 

The call ended. The silence after him always felt heavier than his presence.

I stood there for a moment, jaw clenched, the city sprawled beneath me like a map of everything I owned and everything I could lose. Aria Russo was no longer an option. She was a necessity. A solution. A body. A womb and a signature to buy my future back.

I dialed Mr. Russo immediately.He answered on the first ring, voice trembling like he had been holding the phone in his hand waiting.“Mr. Russo,” I broke the silence. “There’s been a change.”

“Yes, sir?”

“The wedding will be tomorrow.”

“T–tomorrow? But… you said…”

“I changed my mind.” My tone left no room for breath, let alone argument.“I want it done fast. Clean. No spectacle. And make sure she’s ready.”

He swallowed loudly into the phone. “Y-yes, Damiano. She will be.”

“Good.”I ended the call before he could say anything else.

Tomorrow. Just one day.

By this time tomorrow night, Aria Russo would be in my house, in my bed and my path to The Sovereign Circle would finally begin.