Page 20 of Shattered Engagement

Vittorio waits for me in the garage, leaning against his sleek black BMW, expression carefully neutral. Only the slight tightening around his eyes betrays his impatience.

“You’re late,” he says as I exit the car. Not an accusation, merely an observation.

“The princess had a dress fitting.” I adjust my suit jacket, schooling my features into professional detachment. “Took longer than expected.”

He studies me with the penetrating gaze that has kept him alive in this business for decades. “And how’s life as a babysitter for the future Calviño bride?”

“Complicated.” The word slips out before I can stop it.

Vittorio’s eyebrow raises a fraction. “Complicated how?”

I deflect with a question of my own. “You have the intel?”

He hesitates for a moment, then reaches into his jacket, pulling out a leather-bound flash drive. “Everything on Giancarlo’s new money laundering operation through the Caribbean. Account numbers, shell companies, the works. The final piece.”

I take the drive, feeling its weight—heavier than its physical presence warrants. With this information, I can finally complete my revenge. Destroy Giancarlo’s empire from within, reveal myself as his true heir, and take everything he values before ending him. Just as he did to my mother.

“And the wedding preparations?” Vittorio asks, too casually.

“On schedule. Nine days until the De Angelis princess becomes a Calviño asset.” My tone is flat, but something must show in my face because Vittorio tilts his head, examining me with renewed interest.

“You seem... invested in your protective duty.”

“I’m always invested in my assignments.”

“Not like this.” His voice drops lower. “I know you, Alessio. Better than most. Something’s different.”

I meet his gaze steadily. “Nothing that will interfere with the plan.”

“Good.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Because we’re too close to change course now.”

“Did I say we are changing course?” I raise a questioning eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head.

“And what is the update on Vieri?” He asks.

“It’s still too complicated to figure out, but I am certainly digging deeper.”

As Vittorio drives away, I pocket the flash drive and head toward the main house. Giancarlo insisted I stay on the estate while not actively guarding Isadora—to “coordinate security protocols,” he’d said. In reality, I know it’s to keep me within reach, to demonstrate his dominance. The man who thinks he controls me, unaware that each night spent under his roof brings me one step closer to his destruction.

In my assigned room, I decrypt Vittorio’s files, memorizing account numbers and transaction patterns. The work keeps my mind occupied, away from thoughts of green eyes and defiant smiles. Until my phone rings.

Antonio De Angelis’s name flashes on the screen.

“There’s a minor security situation at the pre-wedding party venue,” he says without preamble. “I need you to accompany Isadora to assess the changes.”

I check my watch, and it’s nearly 7:00 PM. “Now?”

“Yes, now.” His tone brooks no argument. “The planner is waiting for her input, and I won’t have my daughter traversing across the city alone at night.”

Thirty minutes later, I’m driving through Manhattan, Isadora silent beside me in the passenger seat. Her profile is illuminated by passing streetlights—the elegant line of her jaw, the slight furrow between her brows, the curve of her lips that I know taste like expensive champagne and forbidden desires.

“You’re staring again,” she says without looking at me.

“I’m assessing potential threats.”

This earns me a sidelong glance. “Am I the threat, Alessio? Or are you?”

The question hangs between us, loaded with meanings neither of us can afford to acknowledge.

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