Chapter 5 Prisoner's return

Alessandro

The private jet back to Milan felt more like a prison transport. Every mile that stretched between Bianca and me was a physical ache, a tearing sensation in my chest that grew more acute with each passing moment. I stared at my phone, at the contact I'd saved as Bianca M., a pathetic attempt to maintain the fiction for just a little longer. Her last message sat there, unanswered: Missing you already. When can I see you? I hate sounding desperate.Don't leave me hanging.

I hadn't responded. Couldn't respond. What could I possibly say? Soon, cara. At our arranged meeting where you'll discover I've been lying to you from the moment we met?

My brother, Danilo, sat across from me, swirling a glass of whiskey with practiced ease, his expression unreadable but his eyes far too knowing. The cabin lights cast shadows across his face, making him look older than his thirty years.

"So. The runaway heiress. What's she like?"

I didn't look up. My jaw clenched so hard it ached. "It doesn't matter."

"It clearly does." Danilo took a slow sip, studying me over the rim of the crystal glass. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Or fallen in love. For you, it's often the same thing."

"I'm not in love," I snapped, the lie tasting like ash on my tongue, bitter and choking. But I was. God help me, I was consumed. Possessed. The two days in Positano had been a window into a life I'd never known was possible—a life of genuine connection, of laughter that wasn't strategic, of passion that wasn't a transaction. I had held the sun in my arms, felt her warmth seep into the cold places in my soul, and now I was returning to my gilded cage, dragging her down with me into the darkness.

"Father is furious," Danilo continued, relentless as always. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "The Morena's are getting impatient. You were supposed to meet her last week, not extend your 'business trip' for a secret tryst with the very woman you're meant to marry."

"It wasn't a tryst." The words were out before I could stop them, sharp and defensive. I met Danilo's knowing gaze and looked away, unable to bear the pity I saw there.

"I need to handle this my way."

"Your way?" Danilo let out a harsh laugh.

"Which is what, exactly? Lie to her until the wedding day? 'Surprise, darling, I'm the monster you were running from!'" He shook his head, setting his glass down with a sharp click. "This is a disaster, Sandro. You've taken a business merger and turned it into a Greek tragedy. Father is going to..."

My phone buzzed, cutting through the tension. A text from my father, Leonardo. "My office. One hour. Do not be late."

The command was absolute. Leonardo DeSanti didn't make requests; he issued edicts. And I, despite all my wealth and power, was still my father's son, still bound by the chains of family obligation and duty.

I leaned back against the leather seat, closing my eyes. I could still smell her perfume on my clothes—something light and citrusy that reminded me of the lemon groves above Positano. I could still feel the ghost of her touch on my skin, the way her fingers had traced patterns on my chest as we lay tangled together in the sheets, the morning sun painting her skin gold. Trust me, I had begged her, my voice rough with emotion I couldn't name. And she, beautiful, open-hearted fool that she was, had looked at me with those incredible dark brown eyes and said yes.

She had trusted me completely, given me everything, and I had taken it knowing it was built on a foundation of lies.

I was the worst kind of coward.

The meeting with my father was every bit as brutal as I had anticipated. Leonardo DeSanti stood behind his massive desk, his silver hair immaculate, his suit without a single wrinkle, his face carved from granite. He didn't look up when I entered, simply continued reading the report in front of him, letting the silence stretch and twist.

"Positano," Leonardo finally said, his voice like ice. "With the Morena girl. Were you trying to sabotage this merger, or are you simply that foolish?"

"I didn't know who she was," I said, the excuse sounding weak even to my own ears.

"Didn't you?" Leonardo's eyes snapped up, cold and calculating. "Or did you know exactly who she was and decide to play some adolescent game? Did you think you could have a little romance before duty called?" He stood, moving around the desk with predatory grace. "The Morena's are aware of your... encounter. Bianca told her mother everything."

My stomach dropped.

"She knows?"

"Not yet. But she will, very soon."

Leonardo's smile was cruel.

"The meeting has been moved up. Tomorrow. Cape Town. And then..." He paused for dramatic effect. "We've made new arrangements. Given the delicate nature of the situation, both families have agreed that you and Bianca will spend the next year in Cape Town, at the DeSanti resort. Together. Under the same roof."

"What?" The word came out strangled.

"You wanted to get to know your bride, didn't you?" Leonardo's voice was mocking. "Now you'll have all the time in the world. The families will join you there in two weeks to finalize the engagement. Until then, you will convince her that this marriage is not just necessary, but desirable. You will make her fall in love with Alessandro DeSanti." His expression hardened.

"Not some fantasy beach lover. The real you. And you will do it, or this merger collapses, and everything we've built crumbles. Do I make myself clear?"

I nodded, unable to speak past the tightness in my throat.

"Good. Pack for Cape Town. You leave in six hours."