Chapter 3
Seraphina's POV
When I got home, I had barely pushed open the door when I heard Marco's excited voice.
"Mom! You're back!"
Marco jumped up from the sofa, waving a piece of paper in his hand. I forced myself to smile, pushing down the anger from my visit to the Romano estate.
Whatever happened, I couldn't let Marco be affected.
"What's wrong, little guy?" I crouched down and took the paper he handed me.
"Look! I got first place in drawing!" Marco's eyes sparkled. "See! This has you, Dad, and me. We're playing at the amusement park together."
Looking at that drawing, my heart instantly softened. Seeing his innocent smile, I remembered every moment we'd shared over these five years.
This was my child. Regardless of blood relations, he was my child.
"I'm so proud of you, Marco." I hugged him tightly.
"Will you still read me a story tonight?"
"Of course."
Looking at Marco's pure smile, I swore to myself: no matter the cost, I wouldn't let Isabella take this child away.
After Marco fell asleep, I went to my private office.
City neon lights streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the entire room in brilliant colors. I picked up the phone and began my scheme.
"Hello, James? It's me, Sera."
"Mrs. Romano, it's so late. Is there something urgent?"
James was an old friend at the Port Authority. We'd worked well together for five years.
"I need you to help me check something. Some of the Romano family's recent shipping contracts—could you temporarily... delay the approval process?"
Silence on the other end for a few seconds.
"Sera, this..."
"I know it's difficult, but I really need your help." My voice was calm but carried unshakeable determination. "Of course, I'll remember your friendship."
Another stretch of silence.
"Alright. But I can only delay for a few days."
"That's enough. Thank you, James."
I hung up and immediately dialed the next number.
"Sarah? This is Sera Marchetti. About tomorrow's steel supply contract..."
After three calls, three important Romano family projects would encounter "unexpected" delays tomorrow.
I'd planned this on the way back.
This wasn't malicious sabotage—just showing my dear father that I was no longer that little girl who could be pushed around.
Then I picked up another phone and called my private investigator.
"Blake, it's me. I need you to investigate someone."
"Who?"
"Isabella Romano. My sister." I paused. "I want to know what she did every single day in Europe, especially her financial situation."
"Understood. This will take some time..."
"I'll pay you double, but I need results within a week."
"Deal."
After hanging up, I leaned back in my chair, feeling that long-lost sense of control.
For five years, I hadn't just been Lorenzo's wife—I'd been a core member of the Marchetti business empire. I had my own connections, my own power.
Isabella thought she could easily push me out? She was wrong.
I picked up my phone and started checking social media and messages.
The first message made me frown.
"Heard the Romano family's eldest daughter is back from Europe? She looks like she's been through so much pain, truly heartbreaking."
This was from Catherine, New Jersey's most influential socialite. There were already dozens of comments below.
"My God, she looks so haggard, she must have suffered terribly."
"I remember she was supposed to marry into the Marchetti family, right? What happened then?"
"Isn't the younger sister in that position now? This should be interesting to watch."
My fingers gripped the phone tightly.
Isabella moved fast. She hadn't even officially returned yet, but was already creating a victim narrative in social circles.
I continued reading. Several important business partners' attitudes in private messages had also become subtle.
"Sera, heard there are some... changes in your family? If you need help, contact us anytime."
On the surface it was concern, but really they were testing whether my position was secure.
Isabella's social attack was more effective than I'd expected. She was using sympathy to gain support while implying my position was illegitimate.
I was about to reply to these messages when I heard knocking at the office door.
"Come in."
Lorenzo entered, carrying a cup of hot coffee and a sandwich.
"Still working this late?" He walked to my side, placing the coffee next to me.
I noticed his eyes scan the scattered files on my desk, but he didn't ask.
"You don't need to work so hard." He gently stroked my hair, his voice tender.
My heart raced. This intimate gesture, this care—it reminded me of warmth I'd never received in childhood.
But reason told me this might just be a habit formed over five years.
"What's troubling you?" Lorenzo sat in the chair beside me. "Maybe I can help."
Looking at his concerned eyes, I almost wanted to tell him everything. About Isabella, about Father's threats, about my inner fears.
But I couldn't.
"Nothing, just some business matters." I tried to stay calm.
Lorenzo nodded, but I felt he didn't entirely believe me.
"Sera," he suddenly spoke, "about what happened at today's meeting..."
My heart beat faster. Was he going to take a stance?
"What impact will Isabella's return have on the family's reputation?" I carefully probed. "After all, she suddenly disappeared for five years."
Lorenzo was silent for a while.
"The past is complicated." He finally said. "We need to handle this properly, avoid bringing more trouble to the family."
Handle properly? What kind of answer was that?
"What do you mean?" I pressed.
"I mean we can't let personal grudges affect the bigger picture." Lorenzo's voice was cautious. "Whether it's regarding Isabella or you."
He was still avoiding.
"You look tired." Lorenzo stood up. "Get some rest early."
He stopped at the door without turning back.
"Sera, no matter what happens, Marco's happiness is most important."
Then he left, leaving me alone in the empty office.
I stared at the door where he'd disappeared, my emotions too complex to name.
Lorenzo had avoided my gaze when speaking. What did that mean?
Was he protecting Isabella, or protecting me?
Did he still love Isabella?
