Chapter 1 - The Shattered Glass
The air inside Bianca’s dressing salon instantly turned arctic.
Matteo stood in the doorway, his tall frame blocking the soft light from the hallway. His eyes, usually cool and calculating, held a dark fury that made Bianca instantly release Elena’s wrist. She stepped back, her silk sleeves fluttering, her expression shifting rapidly from cruel confidence to utter horror.
"Matteo," Bianca gasped, her voice trembling as she scrambled to compose herself. "You're... you're early. I thought your flight from Milan didn't land until midnight."
Matteo didn't answer her. He didn't even look at her. His eyes shifted downward to Elena, who remained on the floor among the shattered porcelain and spilled tea. Her hands were shaking so severely she could barely push herself up.
"Elena," Matteo said, his voice deceptively calm. "Are you injured?"
"I... I'm fine, Mr. Bellandi," Elena whispered, her head bowed, refusing to meet his gaze. "It was an accident. I dropped the tray—"
"Do not lie to protect her," Matteo interrupted softly. He stepped into the room, his handmade Italian leather shoes crunching deliberately over a piece of broken fine china. He knelt beside Elena, offering his hand.
Elena hesitated. In the three years she had worked at the Bellandi estate, the head of the Bellandi crime syndicate had been an imposing, distant figure. He was respected, feared, and kept at a distance by everyone on staff. Yet now, his fingers were steady and warm as he wrapped them around her hand, helping her to her feet.
"Mia is safe," Matteo murmured so only Elena could hear. "She's outside with my guards."
A violent shudder of relief passed through Elena, and tears finally spilled over her dark lashes. "Thank you," she breathed.
Bianca took a step forward, her confidence desperately trying to claw its way back. "Matteo, darling, you don't understand what happened here. She was snooping through my private documents. She overheard something completely out of context and started making ridiculous accusations. I was simply explaining the boundaries of her position."
Matteo stood up to his full height, turning slowly to face the woman he had planned to marry in less than two months.
Bianca Rossi—no relation to Elena—was the daughter of Don Vane Rossi, one of Matteo's key political allies in northern Italy. The marriage was supposed to solidify an alliance that had taken two generations to build. She was beautiful, polished, and educated in the finest schools in Europe.
And, as Matteo had just witnessed, she was a viper.
"What did she hear, Bianca?" Matteo asked, crossing his arms.
"Nothing!" Bianca insisted, her cheeks flushing pink. "She's a maid, Matteo! A hysterical domestic worker trying to create drama to get money from us. She threatened to go to the authorities with lies about your business!"
"I didn't!" Elena spoke up, her voice rising with sudden courage. "Mr. Bellandi, I heard her on the balcony phone. She was speaking to someone named Lorenzo. She gave him the exact routes of your shipment coming through the port of Genoa tomorrow morning. She said... she said once you were taken out of the picture, the syndicate would fall into the right hands."
Bianca's face drained of what little color remained. "She's lying! She's out of her mind!"
"Is she?" Matteo asked quietly. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone. He dialed a short code and placed the device to his ear. "Genoa team, divert route Delta immediately. Lock down the docks and bring Lorenzo Marco in for questioning. Now."
Bianca gasped, taking a step backward toward her balcony. "Matteo, please, listen to me—"
"Do not move," Matteo commanded. The tone of his voice was no longer that of a fiancé; it was the voice of a Don issuing an execution order. "You threatened a mother. You threatened a child under my roof. And you betrayed my family."
"We are supposed to be married!" Bianca shrieked, her composed facade completely shattering. "My father will burn your territories to the ground if you break this contract!"
"Let him try," Matteo said coldly. He gestured toward the door. Two heavily armed guards, who had followed the commotion up the stairs, stepped into the room. "Take Miss Rossi to the holding suite in the basement. Strip her of all electronic devices. No one speaks to her until I return."
"Matteo! You can't do this to me!" Bianca screamed as the guards seized her arms, dragging her away from the salon. Her frantic cries echoed down the grand marble hallway until a heavy door slammed shut in the distance.
Silence descended upon the room.
Matteo turned back to Elena. Her hands were still trembling, and her maid's uniform was stained with cold Earl Grey tea.
"Mr. Bellandi," Elena began, her voice quivering. "I'm so sorry for bringing this into your home—"
"You saved my life, Elena," Matteo said, cutting her off gently. "And you protected my organization. You have nothing to apologize for."
He walked over to the door and called out to his right-hand man, Marco, who was waiting in the hallway holding little Mia's hand. The little girl immediately broke free from Marco and ran into the room, throwing her arms around Elena's waist.
"Mama!" Mia sobbed, burying her face in her mother's apron.
Elena dropped to her knees, hugging her daughter tightly. "I'm here, sweetie. I'm okay."
Matteo watched the mother and child. Something deep inside his hardened heart shifted—a protective instinct he hadn't felt in years. He looked down at the ruined white roses sitting abandoned on the floor in the hallway, then back at Elena.
"Marco," Matteo said softly.
"Yes, Boss?"
"Pack Elena and Mia's belongings from the staff quarters. Move them into the master suite wing immediately."
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Elena looked up in shock. "Mr. Bellandi, no, we can't—"
"Bianca's allies will realize she has failed by morning," Matteo stated, his dark eyes locking onto Elena's. "Your life and Mia's life are in danger as long as you stay in the staff quarters. From this moment on, you are under my personal protection. No one touches you."
