All Chapters of The CEO's pawn : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

 Rosalie's POV   The email came at 9:03am     I was sitting on the floor beside my mother’s hospital bed, knees tucked under my chin, trying to convince myself I wasn’t crying. The early morning nurse had just done her check, and mom was sleeping again peacefully, this time Her breath was steady, her lips weren’t cracked. It felt like a good morningUntil I opened my inbox.   Subject: ASSIGNMENT - Executive Secretary, Business Event in Rome From: Alessandro Moretti   My stomach droppedI didn’t open it right away, I stared at the bold letters as if they might vanish if I blinked hard enough. But they didn’t They waited, impossible to ignore.I finally tapped it open.  &

When they arrived back in the city, he didn’t take them straight home. Instead, he made a sudden turn off the main road, toward the countryside. He hadn’t planned it. It just... happened. A part of him knew what he was doing, even if he didn’t admit it aloud. Viviana had glanced at him from the passenger seat, curious but silent. Emilia was asleep in the back, her little hand still clutching a drawing she’d made earlier that day They ended up at a luxury resort resting on a hillside, the kind Viviana loved; private gardens, candlelit pools, simple meals brought to the door. They were recognized immediately. They were the morettis of course.“This was spontaneous” Viviana said as they entered the suite.Alessandro had only nodded.He hadn’t done it for romance.He hadn’t even done it for guilt. It was survival, an attempt to remind himself of who he used to be. Of what his life had once looked like, simple, orderly, powerful. The man with the perfect wife, the pe

Rosalie’s POVThe morning of the trip came too quicklyI sat on the edge of my bed for a while just staring at my packed suitcase. Everything was folded, tucked, zipped neatly inside.My shoes were polished and placed in separate bags, my blazer was pressed and hung on the hook near the door. Everything looked ready.So why did I feel like I wasn’t?I walked over to my dresser and reached for the perfume I’d bought two days ago. A soft floral scent, warm but not too strong. As I sprayed it lightly on my neck and wrists, my eyes landed on a small silver bracelet placed gently on the wooden tray beside my jewelry.I had almost forgotten itIt was simple, a little old, worn down in some places, with tiny scratches But to me, it was worth more than anything else I had packed. My mother had given it to me when I dropped her off at the hospital yesterday, said it once belonged to her mother, said she wore it on her wedding day."For luck" she whispered when she handed it to me.Now, slip

Rosalie stood outside the hotel entrance, a cold evening breeze teasing herThe building behind her looming over her, its mirrored walls catching every streetlamp and polished vehicle that passedRome was beginning to hum with night time life cars weaving through cobbled roads, voices rising in a dozen languages, the low hum of church bells marking another hourHer hands held in front of her were still. Still, but not calm.She had told herself she wasn’t waiting for Alessandro She was waiting for the car, that was the line she repeated over and over in her head as if it could untangle the knots in her chest. But she knew better. It wasn’t the vehicle she was nervous aboutIt was the man who would step out of it She adjusted the sleeve of her long black gown, ran her fingers through the soft wave of her hair, and caught her reflection in the glass doors. The woman staring back at her looked expensive. A polished version of the girl who once cried herself to sleep on

The silence inside his suite was not peaceful, it was heavyThicker than the smoke from the half lit cigar he’d abandoned in the ashtray.Thicker than the burn in his throat from the brandy he poured too quickly And it only grew heavier each minute.The room was dim, lit only by a single lamp. Alessandro sat slouched in the leather chair, sleeves rolled up, collar open, a drink cradled in one hand, his phone in the otherBut he wasn’t reading anything.He was staring at her name; Rosalie Biancostill sitting in his inbox next to the email she hadn’t sent yet. He knew it. He could feel it. If she hadn’t resigned already, she was about to.He looked away.The vision of her face how it crumbled under the weight of his voice hadn’t left him since the moment the words escaped his mouth."You should go, you clearly don’t belong here."He flinched just thinking about itThat hadn’t been about the glass. Not really. That had been about Paolo. About the way the man smiled at her