Chapter 2 - The Mask Shatters
The silence that followed Alejandro’s cold command into the phone was suffocating.
Vivian Moretti’s fingers twitched around the stem of her wine glass. Her sleek, expensive facade cracked, revealing the ugly panic bubbling beneath. "Alejandro, don't be ridiculous," she sneered, though her voice vibrated with a sudden, nervous tremor. "You're acting out of impulse! You can't freeze my accounts! My father is the lead investor in Castillo Global!"
"Your father’s capital was liquidated fifteen minutes before my plane landed," Alejandro said, his tone devoid of any emotion, which made it ten times more terrifying. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. Power radiated from him in dark, suffocating waves. "I bought out his shares through an offshore proxy three days ago. You have nothing, Vivian. Not in this house. Not in this city."
A quiet gasp rippled through the gathered house staff standing near the marble archway.
Vivian’s face flushed a deep, ugly red. She threw her wine glass against the stairs. The red liquid splashed like arterial blood across the pristine white steps, the glass shattering into a hundred glittering shards.
"She’s broken, Alejandro!" Vivian screamed, pointing a manicured, trembling finger at the woman kneeling on the floor. "Look at her! She’s a ghost! She’s out of her mind! I saved you from the embarrassment of bringing a shattered lunatic back into high society!"
Alejandro didn't waste another breath on Vivian. He closed the distance between himself and his wife.
He dropped to his knees right into the puddle of dirty soapy water on the floor, uncaring that his thousand-dollar tailored trousers were being ruined. His large, warm hands reached out, gently hovering over Elena’s frail shoulders as if she were made of spun glass.
"Elena..." he rasped, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "My God... Elena, look at me. Please."
Elena flinched hard, her body instinctively coiling inward from years of abuse. But when she raised her eyes and met Alejandro’s dark, grief-stricken gaze, the foggy terror in her expression cleared for a split second.
"Alejandro...?" she whispered, her voice like dry leaves scraping across pavement. "You... you came home?"
"I never stopped looking for you," he choked out, wrapping his strong arms around her slender waist and lifting her effortlessly into his chest.
She weighed almost nothing. The vibrant, laughing woman who used to light up every room in Madrid and Paris felt like a bundle of hollow bones in his arms. Anger, pure and unadulterated, roared through Alejandro’s veins like wildfire.
As he stood up, carrying Elena against his heart, four imposing men in dark suits burst through the front double doors. Dante, Alejandro’s head of security, led the squad, his hand resting firmly on the holster beneath his jacket.
"Boss," Dante said, taking in the scene with sharp, trained eyes.
"Take Miss Moretti to the secondary holding room downstairs," Alejandro ordered, his back turned to Vivian. "Seize her phone, her personal belongings, and lock the estate gates. No one enters or leaves without my explicit authorization."
"What?!" Vivian shrieked as two burly security guards grabbed her by her upper arms. "Get your hands off me! Alejandro! You can't hold me hostage! My family will tear you apart!"
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"Your family is currently being served with federal search warrants, Vivian," Alejandro said coldly, walking toward the grand staircase without looking back. "You picked the wrong man to betray."
As Vivian was dragged away, her hysterical screams echoing through the vaulted ceilings, Elena buried her bruised face into the crook of Alejandro’s neck, her quiet, broken sobs soaking through his shirt.
