🥂 YOU'RE MINE NOW

Chapter 11 - What Marco Knew

Alessandro did not reach for his gun.

That frightened Marco more than if he had.

They returned to the estate in silence.

Marco sat alone at the long dining table while everyone else remained standing.

Rosa closed the doors.

"Talk," Alessandro said.

Marco looked older under the chandelier.

"I worked for Salvatore first."

Isabella felt Alessandro stiffen.

"You told me my father hired you."

"He did. Later."

"How much later?"

"After the crash."

Alessandro's expression did not change.

His voice did.

"Keep going."

Marco folded his hands.

"Salvatore suspected you had copied authorization codes. He ordered me to watch you."

"You were his spy."

"Yes."

Bianca cursed softly.

Marco continued.

"The night Daniel died, Salvatore told me to place a call pretending to be you."

Isabella's throat tightened.

"You called my father."

"Yes."

"You told him to take the car."

"Yes."

Thomas surged forward.

Alessandro stopped him with one arm.

Isabella did not move.

"What did you think would happen?"

Marco looked at her.

"I thought we were retrieving the ledger."

"That's not what I asked."

"I didn't know about the bomb."

"Did you know Salvatore wanted Alessandro dead?"

"I knew they were in conflict."

"You knew enough."

Marco lowered his eyes.

"Yes."

The word settled across the table.

Rosa stood near the dining-room doors, one hand pressed against her apron. "I trusted you with that boy," she said.

Marco looked at her.

"You brought him home bleeding at twenty-two. You sat outside surgery when Antonio wouldn't come. Was all of that guilt too?"

"No."

His voice broke for the first time.

"That was love."

Rosa's eyes filled, but she did not soften. "Then you should have loved him enough to tell the truth."

Marco had no answer.

Alessandro stared at the man who had stood beside him for half his life.

"Why did you stay?"

Marco looked up.

"Because after the crash I learned what Salvatore had done."

"So guilt?"

"At first."

He shook his head.

"Then your father discovered Salvatore's betrayal. He killed him ten years ago, but not before Salvatore built something with Petrov that no one could dismantle cleanly."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because Antonio made me choose."

Alessandro laughed without humor.

"Of course he did."

"He said if you knew you had helped Daniel, you'd go after Salvatore yourself and die."

"My father was protecting me?"

"In the only way he knew."

"By lying."

"Yes."

Alessandro walked out.

Isabella found him behind the house near the empty pool.

The November air was cold.

He had no coat.

"You should go inside."

"So should you."

He looked across the dark lawn.

"I trusted him."

"I know."

"I built my life around men I thought I understood."

Isabella stood beside him.

"That's not unique to crime families."

He glanced over.

"My uncle lied to me for sixteen years."

Her mouth tightened.

"My mother was alive. My father had another life before he sold insurance. Apparently my childhood family photos are now evidence."

Alessandro looked down.

"That was almost funny."

"It was a little funny."

For a moment, silence felt easy.

Then he said, "Marco caused the call."

"Salvatore caused the crash."

"He obeyed."

"So did a lot of people."

She looked at him.

"That's how men like Salvatore become powerful. Not because everyone around them is evil. Because enough people decide obedience is safer than conscience."

His eyes settled on hers.

"Are you talking about Marco?"

"I'm talking about you too."

He flinched almost invisibly.

Good.

"I don't know everything you do," Isabella continued. "But I know enough."

"Isabella."

"You protect people. You also frighten them. You run legitimate companies, and you have men who carry guns because you say so."

He did not deny it.

"I won't pretend none of that matters because you've been kind to me."

"Kind."

His mouth tilted.

"I've been called worse."

"You want honesty?"

"Always."

"I think you're trying to become a man different from your father without giving up all the tools your father taught you."

That hit him.

She saw it.

"And I think eventually you have to choose."

His voice was quiet.

"Between what?"

"Being feared and being free."

He looked toward the house.

"I don't know if free is available to men like me."

"Then stop deciding before you try."

A breeze lifted loose hair across her face.

Alessandro reached out.

He brushed it back.

Slowly.

Giving her enough time to step away.

She didn't.

His fingers lingered near her cheek.

"At the gala," he said, "I knew claiming you publicly would keep Petrov from touching you for at least a few hours."

"I know."

"I also knew it would make you afraid of me."

"Yes."

"I did it anyway."

"Yes."

His hand lowered.

"I'm sorry."

There it was.

An actual apology.

No qualification.

No explanation.

Isabella felt something in her chest loosen.

"Thank you."

He looked at her mouth.

Then away.

Restraint.

Choice.

That mattered.

Inside, Marco had finished his confession.

There was one more thing.

He knew where the testimony archive was.

Daniel had never put it in a bank or warehouse.

He had given it to someone outside both families.

"Who?" Isabella asked.

Marco looked toward Bianca.

Her face changed.

"My mother."

Bianca whispered.

Everyone stared.

Marco nodded.

"Celeste Moretti."

Bianca stood.

"My mother died three years ago."

"Before she died, she sent me a package."

"What package?"

"I never opened it."

Alessandro looked at her in disbelief.

"Why?"

"Because the note said not to unless Isabella Santos came looking."

Bianca's eyes met Isabella's.

For a moment, no one spoke. Isabella had grown used to learning that strangers knew pieces of her life before she did, but this felt different. Three years ago she had been studying anatomy, worrying about rent, and calling Thomas to remind him about a dentist appointment.

Somewhere else, people had already been discussing whether she was alive.

"I thought Isabella Santos was dead."

Isabella frowned.

"Why would you think that?"