Chapter 3 - The Library of Shadows
Walking back into the west wing felt like entering a different world. It wasn't just a house anymore; it was a museum of pain. The doors to his office were wide open, and inside, the room had been transformed.
The clinical, oppressive atmosphere was gone. In its place were soft blankets, high-end children’s books, and—to my absolute horror—a small tea set placed on the desk beside his legal files.
Alessandro sat at the desk, but he wasn't in his usual uniform of stiff, white dress shirts. He wore a dark sweater, and he looked… tired. Not the dangerous, sharp-edged tired of a crime lord, but the weary, hollowed-out look of a man who hadn't slept in a decade.
“You’re late,” he said, but there was no bite in his tone.
Emma broke away from my hand and ran straight to the desk. “I brought Mr. Rabbit back. He said he missed you.”
Alessandro stared at the battered stuffed animal. He reached out, his fingers—large and calloused—brushing the soft, matted fur of the toy. “He did?”
“Yes. He says you need to read more stories,” Emma declared, climbing onto the chair beside him.
I hovered in the doorway, paralyzed. “Mr. Moretti, I am truly sorry. I’ll keep her occupied, just—tell me what you need done.”
He turned to look at me, and for the first time, I noticed the scar running from his temple to his jawline. It was a jagged reminder of the ambush. “I don’t need the floors cleaned, Nora. I need you to stay. My staff is terrified of me. They tiptoe around as if I’m a bomb about to go off.”
May you like
“They have good reason to be cautious, sir,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
“True,” he admitted, turning back to Emma. “But your daughter doesn't seem to have received the memo.”
