Chapter 3 - The Security Room Revelation“Play the footage, Marco,” Alessandro commanded without breaking eye contact with his bride.
Marco tapped a key on the terminal.
The large wall-mounted monitor flickered to life. The high-definition audio and video recorded two days prior began to roll. The speakers filled the silent room with Isabella’s true voice—harsh, venomous, and dripping with cruel authority as she berated old Antonio for nearly dropping her roses.
Isabella stared at the screen, her color draining entirely.
Then the second clip played: Isabella backing Sophia Carter against the library shelves, gripping her wrist until her knuckles turned white, hissing threats of blacklisting and ruin.
“If you ever look at Alessandro like that again...” the speakers echoed through the room.
The audio cut out. The screen went dark.
Isabella pulled her arm backward with a violent jerk, wrenching it free from Alessandro’s grip. Her chest heaved, and the mask of innocence was gone, replaced by a desperate, snarling fury.
“Fine!” Isabella shrieked, her voice echoing off the stone walls. “You saw it! You heard it! Are you satisfied?!”
“Why?” Alessandro asked, his voice deathly calm. “Why play the sweet, devoted saint for my family and me, only to terrorize the staff behind closed doors?”
Isabella let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “Why? Because you’re a monster, Alessandro! Everyone in the city knows what the Moretti syndicate is built on—blood, extortion, and fear! I couldn't walk into your world as a weakling. I had to show them I was just as ruthless as you are! I had to protect my position!”
“By abusing a child’s mother and threatening defenseless old men?” Alessandro stepped closer, towering over her. “That isn't strength, Isabella. That is cowardice.”
Isabella’s face twisted with pure hatred. She backed away toward the heavy oak doors, her white silk gown rustling against the floor.
“The wedding is over,” Alessandro declared quietly. “My men will escort you off the estate. Your belongings are already packed. Consider yourself lucky I am only banishing you instead of putting you in the ground.”
Isabella stopped at the door. She didn't cry. She didn't beg. Instead, a chilling, distorted smile spread across her red lips.
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“You think you’ve won, Alessandro?” she whispered venomously. “You think getting rid of me solves everything? Enjoy your precious wedding day... because you haven't seen the last of me.”
With a sharp slam, she wrenched the door open and stormed out of the east wing.
