Chapter 2: The Man Who Came Straight to His Father
Mrs.
Gable's smile vanished the moment Lorenzo left the foyer.
"Back to work," she hissed.
"All of you."
Her eyes landed on Nora last.
"You.
East wing.
Now.
Make sure the old man looks presentable before Mr.
Moretti decides to check on him."
Nora moved as fast as her body would allow.
When she pushed open the door to room 4B, she gasped.
Two maids had been sent ahead of her.
They had thrown a clean blanket over Giovanni's lap and cracked the window open — not for fresh air, but to air out the smell of neglect they had never bothered to address before today.
Giovanni sat exactly as she had left him.
But his dark eyes found hers immediately.
"I'm here," she whispered.
She smoothed his collar, checked his temperature, and pressed her warm hand over his cold one.
That was the moment the door opened behind her.
Lorenzo Moretti stood in the doorway.
He had not gone to his study.
He had come straight here.
His gray eyes moved slowly across the room — the worn wheelchair, the thin blanket, the window letting in freezing air.
Then they dropped to Nora's wrists.
The bruises were dark.
Unmistakable.
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
He said nothing for a long moment.
Then Giovanni did something he had not done in five years.
His hand moved — slowly, deliberately — and closed around Nora's fingers.
Lorenzo saw it.
His expression shifted into something cold and unreadable.
"Who are you?" he said quietly.
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What Lorenzo found out next was only the beginning.
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The full story — and what Giovanni had been silently planning for months — is in the link below.
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