Chapter 3 - The Lion in His Cage
The Moretti Estate was a fortress of limestone and iron, situated on a cliff overlooking the dark, churning waters of the Atlantic. It was beautiful, but it felt like a golden cage.
When Isabella was escorted into the grand library, she found Alessio sitting behind a massive mahogany desk. The room was dimly lit, illuminated only by a roaring fireplace and a single desk lamp. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket today. His white silk shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to reveal thick, muscular forearms covered in dark hair and faint silver scars.
His right leg was extended stiffly beneath the desk. The custom brace was gone, replaced by a simple, heavy leather support.
"Sit," Alessio said, without looking up from the documents he was reading.
Isabella sat in the leather armchair opposite him. She didn't fidget. She crossed her ankles and waited.
Alessio finally closed the folder and looked at her. The intensity of his gaze was enough to make hardened soldiers sweat, but Isabella merely met his eyes with calm curiosity.
"Your uncle threw you out," Alessio stated. It wasn't a question. "Because of what happened at the gala."
"Yes."
"He is a fool," Alessio said softly, a dangerous edge to his voice. "He owed my family three hundred thousand dollars. This morning, I bought his debt from my cousin Marco. I also bought his tailoring shop and the deed to his house."
Isabella’s breath hitched. "Why?"
"Because he insulted the woman who prevented the Moretti name from becoming a joke in front of the five families," Alessio said, leaning forward. He rested his elbows on the desk, his hands laced together. "Marco wanted to lock you away because you saw me weak. I don't agree with my cousin. I think a woman who can spot a broken pin from forty feet away is someone I want on my payroll, not my enemy's."
"I am a seamstress, Don Moretti," Isabella said firmly. "Not a miracle worker. I know about braces because of my father, but I am not a doctor."
"I have had the best doctors in the world, Signorina Romano," Alessio said, his voice dropping into a bitter register. "They took five hundred thousand dollars of my money to tell me that the nerve damage from a sniper’s bullet to my spine is permanent. They told me I would never feel my right foot again. But last night, when you pried that valve loose... I felt it."
Isabella leaned forward, her professional curiosity piqued. "What did you feel?"
"A burn," Alessio said, his eyes burning with a sudden, fierce light. "A sharp, terrible heat right down to my big toe. It lasted for a second, then went cold again. The doctors said the nerve was dead. A dead nerve doesn't feel heat."
Isabella studied his face, then looked down at his leg. "The brace was compressing the deep peroneal nerve against your fibula. The doctors probably aligned the brace to support your bone structure, but they didn't account for your muscle mass. You're a large man, Don Moretti. When you sit, your muscles expand. The brace wasn't supporting you; it was strangling the remaining healthy pathways."
Alessio’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile. "You see? You've been in this room for five minutes and you've already given me a better answer than a board of neurosurgeons from Johns Hopkins."
He slid a contract across the desk. "You will live here. You will oversee my daily physical therapy. You will alter my clothes to accommodate the new brace designs you will create with my engineers. Your mother will receive the best medical care in the country, completely free of charge. In return, you give me your absolute loyalty. You tell no one what happens in this room."
Isabella looked at the contract. The amount listed at the bottom was more money than her father had earned in his entire lifetime.
"I have two conditions, Don Moretti," she said.
Alessio raised an eyebrow. Few people dared to negotiate with him. "Speak."
"First, my mother stays in the private clinic until she is fully recovered, and I can visit her whenever I wish. Second, you must actually do what I tell you. If I tell you to stand, you stand. If I tell you to stop, you stop. You may be the boss of the city, but in the gym, I am the boss."
May you like
Alessio stared at her. The silence stretched for so long that Isabella wondered if she had pushed him too far. Then, suddenly, a deep, booming laugh echoed through the library. It was a rich, genuine sound that shocked even Dante, who was standing by the door.
"Deal, Signorina Romano," Alessio said, his eyes flashing with amusement and something deeper, something warmer. "Let's see if you can handle the lion when he’s angry."
