Chapter 3 - The Secret in the FrostingThe sun rose higher over the Moretti estate, burning away the morning mist that clung to the iron gates and the sprawling rose gardens.
Inside his private study, Alessandro paced behind his mahogany desk. He wasn't thinking about shipments, territories, or the rival syndicates in Chicago. His mind was entirely fixated on what he had seen on the kitchen counter just minutes before.
When Emma had cut a tiny piece of the cake with a plastic spoon, a small silver object had shifted beneath the pink buttercream.
Alessandro had pocketed it before Serena returned.
Now, sitting under the harsh light of his desk lamp, he placed the object on a clean sheet of white paper. It was a tiny, melted plastic charm—part of a custom-made key ring. It bore an engraving of a roaring wolf’s head.
The crest of the Rossi Family.
Marco Rossi’s personal emblem.
Alessandro’s breath hitched. A cold, suffocating rage clawed its way up his throat. Three years ago, when the poisoned glass of champagne had killed Isabella and Sophia, the police and forensic teams had combed every inch of the rose garden. They had found nothing. Marco had wept on Alessandro’s shoulder, swearing vengeance against the rival families, leading the bloody crusade to purge every enemy who dared touch the Moretti bloodline.
Marco had been his brother. His rock. The only man Alessandro trusted with his life.
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“My don. My brother. May the next fifteen years be even greater.”
Marco’s words echoed in his ears. And then, the chilling truth hit him like a physical blow: Marco hadn’t drunk from that glass. Marco had handed the glass directly to Isabella.
