Page 3 of Baby Surprise for my Brother's Best Friend

I click to the first slide. “Today, I’ll be walking you through the key phases of our rollout strategy with an emphasis on brand alignment, investor confidence, and…”

A sharp ping breaks the silence.

My laptop screen flashes with a new email. Subject line, "CONFIDENTIAL: URGENT - Possible Bratva Link."

My stomach knots as I freeze, laser focused on the screen in front of me. “One second, please.”

The sender is E, one of the few people from my past life I still trust, an editor at Clive & Associates, my old firm. We’ve kept in touch through careful, coded messages.

Loyalty in this industry is rare. E is the exception.

I click it open, my pulse accelerating. The attachment loads slowly. Too slowly.

Inside, a file. A leak. Not yet public. The kind of thing that gets buried by powerful families. Or ignites media firestorms. Or wars.

A scandal involving Alessio Marchetti.

My breath catches.

Alessio Marchetti. My brother’s best friend. Valentino Marchetti's younger brother. My teenage crush turned grown-up nightmare. Maddening. Charismatic. Always two steps ahead of the rules and three steps outside the lines.

According to the document, he was seen leaving a private club in New York with none other than the daughter of Mikhail Orlov,a notorious Bratva boss. The document continues to mention sources revealing that she left his apartment the next morning.

I grip the edge of the desk as the room tilts.

This isn’t just juicy gossip. This is dangerous.

If this story breaks before the merger, it’ll detonate everything.

E’s message is short. A single line:

"Not running this until it’s confirmed, but you needed to see it."

I swallow hard.

My mind spins into crisis-mode. Damage control, mitigation, preemptive spin.

If the Marchetti name is publicly tied to the Bratva, investors will scatter. No amount of PR spin can survive that. Worse, if the Bratva feels exposed, retaliation isn't off the table. Alessio could be in danger. And by extension, so could we. This isn't just a scandal. It's a loaded weapon aimed at the heart of this deal.

But beneath all that training and instinct, there’s something else twisting low in my gut.

Of all people…

Why him?

Realizing I must look like a deer in headlights for what feels like the past ten minutes, I quickly address the room.

"Sorry, everyone. We are having some technical difficulties, let's take fifteen."

As the room files out, I stay seated, my father and Valentino taking a seat beside me, and I slide the laptop slightly toward them.

"You need to see this," I say, voice low, tight.

My father and Valentino both inch closer, eyes narrowing as the screen lights up with the email.

They read it in silence.

Valentino’s jaw tightens. His reaction is immediate. Subtle but lethal. A twitch of his fingers, his shoulders square like he's bracing for a blow.

---