About twenty minutes later, there’s a soft knock at the door.
Bella hurries to answer it.
“Alessia!”
The woman enters, dressed in an elegant, simple, flowing cream dress.
“Perfect timing!”Bella says.
“Is it okay if I come in?”
I freeze for a moment.Even though her posture is composed, there’s a small frown between her eyebrows.
Alessia Moretti, the new boss’s wife.
I’m not sure of my reception from her.Does she believe that my family killed her father-in-law?
And yet, unless something happens soon, we’re going to be family.
The consigliere in me knows that alliances need to be forged.
Pretending my heart isn’t racing, I nod.
I’ve met her husband and the previous don.But that was on neutral territory.I’m hyper aware that I no longer have that luxury.
Bella hurries to the table and pours Alessia an orange juice.
Interesting.
Glass in hand, Alessia comes closer to where I sit while the stylist works on my hair.
“You may know that I wasn’t exactly a willing bride.”
That catches my attention.
I’ve certainly heard the whispers about her—the way the alliance was arranged, and the way she disappeared to Europe for months before returning.
Alessia sets her glass down carefully.
“My father supported it,” she adds simply.“He believed the wedding mattered.And…” She gives a small smile.“Matteo was forced to come after me.”
Her confession makes the tightness in my chest loosen a fraction.
“But you’re the don’s wife.”
“And a woman.”She nods.“About to be a mother.”
Our intel had missed that piece of information.
The stylist finishes pinning a section of hair and steps back to examine her work.
“Perfect,” Mrs.Henderson murmurs approvingly from across the room.
“I’ll be back to help with the veil,” the stylist says.
Veil?I hadn’t selected one of those.
Which no doubt means Moretti made more decisions about my life.
