Chapter 7 - The Bride Who Knew My Father
The video continued.
Nobody moved.
Not me.
Not Marco.
Not my mother.
Not even the security team standing outside the office.
Because the woman sitting in that warehouse twelve years ago was the same woman who had been waiting for me at the altar hours earlier.
Isabella Romano.
She looked younger.
Different.
The confidence was still there.
The perfect posture.
The calm expression.
But something was missing.
The warmth.
The softness she always showed me.
The woman on the screen wasn't the woman who held my hand and promised me forever.
She was someone else.
Someone who had been sitting across from my father in secret.
Someone who knew him before she knew me.
My father's voice came through the speakers.
"Tell me why you did it, Isabella."
The video showed her looking down.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she smiled.
Not a happy smile.
Not a nervous smile.
A smile from someone who believed she still had control.
"You already know why, Antonio."
My entire body went cold.
My father stood across from her.
His face was unreadable.
"You destroyed my trust."
Isabella leaned back.
"I protected myself."
"From what?"
"From a man who would never let me have a choice."
My father's expression changed.
"You were never a victim."
The words echoed.
Isabella looked away.
"You don't understand."
"No."
My father stepped closer.
"I understand perfectly."
The video glitched slightly.
Marco immediately checked the system.
"The file is damaged."
"Can you fix it?"
"I'm trying."
I focused back on the screen.
Because even damaged, the truth was appearing piece by piece.
My father knew Isabella.
Not recently.
Not through some business connection.
He knew her years ago.
Before I ever heard her name.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered.
Nobody answered.
Because nobody had an answer.
The video continued.
Isabella stood.
"Your son cannot know."
My heart stopped.
My father looked at her.
"Do not mention Alessandro."
"I am warning you."
My father laughed quietly.
A sad sound.
"You are the one who should be worried."
She stepped closer.
"Antonio, you don't understand what will happen if he finds out."
My father looked at her.
"He deserves the truth."
"No."
Her voice became sharper.
"He deserves happiness."
Silence.
Then my father's words.
"Happiness built on a lie is just another prison."
I felt something break inside me.
Because those words explained everything.
The wedding.
The perfect image.
The woman everyone admired.
Maybe my entire relationship had been built on something I never knew existed.
The video froze.
Then restarted.
A different moment.
The camera angle changed.
Someone else was recording.
Isabella was standing closer to my father.
Too close.
And then she said something that made my blood turn cold.
"I did what you asked."
My father stared at her.
"What?"
"I got close to him."
The room went silent.
Marco looked at me.
My mother covered her mouth.
I couldn't move.
My father didn't speak for several seconds.
Then:
"You were supposed to protect him."
Isabella smiled.
"I did."
"No."
His voice became angry.
"You were supposed to keep him away from this."
She looked directly into the camera.
Almost like she knew someone would watch this one day.
"I couldn't."
The screen flickered.
Then the file ended.
Nobody spoke.
Because the meaning was clear.
Isabella didn't meet me by accident.
She was sent.
But the question was worse.
By who?
And why?
I turned toward my mother.
"You knew."
She looked at me.
"I suspected."
"That's not an answer."
"Alessandro..."
"No."
My voice broke through the room.
"Everyone keeps protecting me from the truth."
I pointed toward the screen.
"But every person who protected me also lied to me."
My mother looked down.
And that hurt more than anger.
Because she didn't argue.
She didn't defend herself.
She accepted it.
Marco stepped forward.
"Boss."
I looked at him.
"We need to think carefully."
"No."
I shook my head.
"We need to move."
"Against who?"
I looked at the screen.
"Against everyone who knew."
Because the truth was no longer about Isabella.
It was about a plan.
A plan that had started twelve years ago.
A plan that led to my wedding day.
A plan involving my father.
My family.
And the woman I was supposed to marry.
I left the office.
Marco followed.
"Where are you going?"
"To find Isabella."
My mother stood.
"No."
I turned.
"Why?"
Her face changed.
Because she knew something.
Something she still hadn't told me.
"Because if Isabella knows you found this..."
"Then what?"
My mother looked terrified.
"She won't run."
That sentence stopped me.
"What does that mean?"
My mother whispered:
"She will come back for the thing she was trying to protect."
I stared at her.
"What thing?"
She didn't answer.
And I hated that I already knew.
Another secret.
Another hidden piece.
Another reason everyone thought I needed protection.
My phone vibrated.
A message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
A photo appeared.
Isabella.
Standing outside the Moretti estate.
Looking directly at the camera.
Underneath the photo was one sentence.
You finally found the truth.
A second message arrived.
Now find out who your father was protecting you from.
I looked up.
Because something about the photo bothered me.
Not Isabella.
The background.
Behind her stood a black car.
And beside that car was someone waiting.
Someone I recognized.
Someone who should have been dead for twelve years.
May you like
The message below appeared.
Your uncle is alive.
