Chapter 5 - The Unforgivable Target
Alessandro’s stride down the long, polished corridor of the Romano estate was swift, heavy, and purposeful. Behind him, Marco maintained a tight, respectful distance, sensing the boiling fury beneath his boss's calm exterior.
They bypassed the holding room where Isabella was contained and headed toward the staff quarters in the east wing.
When Alessandro had uncovered the encrypted chat logs between Isabella and Dante Moretti, he had found something far more chilling than financial wire transfers. Buried deep within the deleted messages was a directive from Moretti, enthusiastically agreed to by Isabella, concerning a loose end.
“The little maid saw too much,” Moretti’s message had read. “She’s a liability. Once the old man is gone, make sure the brat and her mother disappear permanently. Can't leave witnesses who know about the powder.”
And Isabella’s reply had been chillingly casual: “Consider it handled. I told Clara to send the kid packing by tomorrow morning, and I’ve already arranged for a ‘transport accident’ on the highway out of town.”
An innocent six-year-old child—a little girl who had clutched a worn-out cloth doll and bravely risked her life to warn him—had been marked for execution just because she had eyes that saw and a tongue that spoke the truth.
Alessandro reached the door of Clara’s quarters and raised his fist, knocking firmly twice.
A moment later, the door swung open. Clara stood there, her face pale, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. When she saw the head of the syndicate standing on her threshold flanked by his chief of security, she immediately dropped to her knees, trembling violently.
"Mr. Romano! Please," Clara sobbed, pressing her palms together. "Whatever Lily did, whatever mistake she made, I swear she didn't mean any harm! Please don't hurt her!"
Alessandro reached down, his large, calloused hand gripping Clara’s arm and pulling her firmly back to her feet with surprising gentleness.
"Clara," Alessandro said, his voice steady and reassuring, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside him. "Look at me."
The maid slowly raised her tear-stained eyes.
"Your daughter didn't make a mistake," Alessandro said firmly. "She saved my life this morning. And for that, I owe her a debt that this family will never be able to fully repay."
Clara blinked in stunned disbelief, her breath catching in her throat. "Sir?"
"Where is she?" Alessandro asked.
"She’s... she’s inside, sleeping. She was so scared, Mr. Romano. She wouldn't let go of her doll."
"Pack a bag for both of you," Alessandro commanded, turning to Marco. "Marco, I want a secure armored transport ready at the private airstrip immediately. Transfer Clara and Lily to our private alpine villa in Switzerland. Double the perimeter guard. No one touches them. Ever."
"Understood, boss. I'll handle it personally," Marco nodded sharply.
Clara covered her mouth with her hands, tears streaming freely down her cheeks as she realized the magnitude of what was happening. "Thank you, Mr. Romano... Oh, thank you..."
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"Don't thank me yet, Clara," Alessandro replied, his jaw tightening into a hard line as a dark, dangerous glint entered his eyes. "There is still a debt to collect in this house."
He turned on his heel and strode back down the corridor, leaving the staff quarters behind. The reckoning had begun, and nobody who had conspired against his house—or threatened a child under his roof—would find mercy.
