Chapter 5 - Isabella’s Retaliation
The following afternoon, Alessandro was summoned to the Port Newark docks to handle an urgent customs dispute involving a shipment of industrial machinery from Italy. It was a trap designed to pull him away from the estate for at least six hours, orchestrated by a mid-level Romano associate trying to test the waters.
Isabella knew he was gone before his black sedan even cleared the iron gates.
She moved through the grand hallway with a swift, predatory grace, her expensive heels clicking sharply against the marble. Behind her walked two of her father’s personal bodyguards—men who answered to Chicago, not to New York.
She marched straight toward the narrow corridor leading to the back kitchen.
Inside, Rosa was folding a basket of freshly laundered linens while Lily sat quietly on her quilt, coloring in a small book with a box of Crayola crayons.
The door swung open with a loud bang.
Rosa flinched, dropping a stack of hand towels. She looked up to see Isabella standing in the doorway, blocking the exit, flanked by two towering men in dark suits.
"Get up," Isabella commanded, her voice sharp and dripping with malice.
Rosa slowly rose to her feet, instinctively stepping in front of Lily, who looked up with wide, frightened dark eyes.
"Miss Romano," Rosa said, keeping her voice as level as possible, though her heart was hammering against her ribs. "This is the staff quarters. You aren't supposed to be down here."
"Oh, I think I can go wherever I please in my future husband's house," Isabella sneered, taking a slow step forward. She looked down at Lily with open disgust, as if inspecting a cockroach on a clean kitchen floor. "Especially when it comes to cleaning out the trash."
"She is not trash," Rosa whispered fiercely, her hands trembling. "Leave her alone."
"You have had too much comfort here, little maid," Isabella hissed, stepping closer, her face twisting into an ugly mask of privilege and cruelty. "Four years of playing house in the shadows. Four years of stealing bread from the Moretti estate. Well, your time is up. Pack your cheap clothes, grab your filthy brat, and get out before I have my men throw you both over the front gates."
"You don't have the authority," Rosa said, her voice rising with sudden, desperate courage. "Don Moretti gave orders—"
"Alessandro is not here!" Isabella screamed, losing her composure entirely. She reached out, swatting the box of crayons across the room, sending them scattering across the floor.
Lily let out a sharp cry of terror, burying her face in Rosa’s apron.
Before Isabella could raise her hand to strike Rosa, a heavy shadow fell across the doorway.
"Step away from them, Miss Romano."
The voice was cold, deep, and possessed an authority that made the two Chicago bodyguards instantly tense up.
Mr. Bruno stood in the doorway. He was unarmed, yet he carried himself with the terrifying dignity of an executioner. Flanking him behind were four of Alessandro’s most trusted veteran enforcers, their hands resting casually inside their suit jackets where heavy iron waited.
Isabella froze, her hand hovering in mid-air. She turned, her face flushing with humiliated fury. "How dare you speak to me like that, old man?! I am your future mistress!"
"You are a guest in this house," Bruno replied, his voice dangerously soft. "And Don Moretti gave explicit instructions that Mrs. Mendes and her daughter are under his direct personal protection. Touch them again, Miss Romano, and even your father in Chicago will not be able to piece you back together."
May you like
Isabella glared at the old butler, her chest heaving with rage. She knew when she was outmatched. With a venomous hiss, she turned on her heel, her bodyguards trailing nervously behind her. "This isn't over!" she yelled over her shoulder as she stormed down the corridor.
Rosa sank back against the wall, sliding down to the floor as her legs gave out, wrapping her arms tightly around a weeping Lily.
