Chapter 6 - THE CHAIRMAN'S INVITATION
Alessandro didn't touch me after I told him about the baby. He didn't ask me to prove it, didn't demand an explanation, and didn't make a speech about heirs or family names.
He simply stood beside the windows, one hand pressed to the back of his neck, staring at the lake.
“Say something,” I finally whispered.
He turned. “I'm trying to choose the right words.”
“That's never stopped a billionaire before.”
A faint, surprised smile crossed his face. It disappeared almost immediately.
“I'm glad,” he said.
I blinked. “What?”
“That you're pregnant. That the child is yours. That I might have a chance to be a father.” He swallowed. “I'm also angry that someone knows and has used it to frighten you.”
I had expected control. I had expected questions about dates, paternity, and what I wanted from him. I had not expected the uncertainty in his voice.
“I don't want money,” I said.
“I didn't think you did.”
“I don't want a house or a driver or a place in your family.”
“I wasn't going to offer you a place. I was going to ask what you need.”
The difference caught me off guard.
“I need to know what happened to my parents.”
“Then we'll find out.”
“And I need to know whether your father had anything to do with it.”
Alessandro's expression hardened. “I will not protect him if he did.”
His security director, Marco Bellini, arrived ten minutes later. He was broad-shouldered, silver-haired, and had the quiet alertness of a man who noticed exits before furniture.
“Mr. Vitali,” he said. “The building is secure. The street team has identified the vehicle outside the Carter residence. It belongs to a private security contractor.”
“Who hired them?”
“We're checking.”
Alessandro glanced at me. “Can you identify the men?”
“I saw only shadows.”
Marco nodded. “We'll review the footage.”
Alessandro instructed him to arrange a discreet medical appointment with an obstetrician chosen by Naomi, not by the Vitali family physician. He also asked Marco to find out how the pregnancy message had reached the people monitoring me.
Then the private elevator chimed.
A woman entered without waiting for an invitation. She was in her late fifties, elegant in a cream suit, with dark hair cut sharply at her jaw.
“Alessandro,” she said. “Your father is waiting.”
Alessandro's expression closed.
“Not now, Sofia.”
“He knows she's here.”
The woman looked at me. Her eyes moved to my stomach, then back to my face.
“Elizabeth Vale,” she said.
I stiffened. “Who are you?”
“Sofia Moretti. I run the Vitali family office.”
“Did you know my father?”
“I knew his work.”
“Did you know he died?”
Sofia's expression softened in a way that looked almost genuine. “Yes. I was sorry to hear it.”
Alessandro stepped between us. “You can go.”
Sofia ignored him. “Matteo wants to meet her.”
“Then he can make an appointment through counsel.”
“He said it concerns the child.”
Alessandro's voice turned cold. “The child is not a company asset.”
Sofia held his gaze. “You know your father doesn't see it that way.”
A silence settled over the room.
I looked at Alessandro. “What does that mean?”
He didn't answer immediately.
Sofia did. “The Vitali family has an inheritance trust. It includes voting shares, property interests, and certain protections for direct descendants. If this child is yours, the trust will be affected.”
“I don't care about the trust,” I said.
“You may not,” Sofia replied. “But others do.”
Alessandro told her to leave. This time, she obeyed.
When the door closed, I turned on him.
“What inheritance?”
“It's complicated.”
“Then explain it.”
He exhaled. “My grandfather created a trust to prevent the company from being broken apart by outside shareholders. Each direct descendant has a potential interest, but the shares are controlled by the family board until the heir reaches adulthood.”
“So my baby could inherit part of your empire?”
“Potentially.”
“And that makes me a target.”
“Yes.”
I sat down.
Alessandro crouched in front of me, keeping a careful distance. “I can arrange security without putting you in a cage. You can stay wherever you want. You can keep your job if that's what you choose. I won't use the baby to control you.”
“Your father already is.”
His eyes darkened. “I know.”
He reached into his pocket and placed a small card on the table. It had a private number written on it.
“If you feel unsafe, call me. Day or night. Even if you're angry with me.”
I looked at the card but didn't pick it up.
“Why did you never call after that night?” I asked.
“I did. Your number went dead. I asked the hotel for your name, but the temporary staffing records had been altered. I thought you had given me a false number and wanted nothing more.”
“I did give you a false name.”
“I know that now.”
He stood and went to the desk. “There's something else. Your father sent a letter to my office the week he died. It was returned unopened.”
“Do you still have it?”
“No. My father took it.”
I felt the room tilt.
“Then your father knew who I was before the gala.”
Alessandro nodded slowly.
“And he knew about the baby before I did.”
He didn't deny it.
A message arrived on his phone. He read it, and the color left his face.
“What?” I asked.
He turned the screen toward me.
It was a photograph of the apartment building where Liam and I lived. A red circle had been drawn around the guest-room window.
Under it were five words:
The mother can be replaced.
Alessandro looked at Marco.
“Find Liam Carter,” he ordered. “And bring him somewhere safe.”
May you like
Then he looked at me.
“Your father's death was not an accident, Elizabeth. I think someone is trying to finish what they started.”
