Chapter 3
Elena had never trusted Victoria.
I had mistaken that for ordinary family tension.
My wife came from outside the old Bellandi circle. Elegant, intelligent, stubborn enough to tell my aunt no without first checking whether anyone else in the room approved.
Victoria smiled at her in public.
Called her “that outsider” when she thought I was not listening.
After Elena died, Victoria became suddenly helpful.
Too helpful.
She offered to supervise Isabella when I traveled.
Handled household events.
Reorganized staff.
I thought grief had softened her.
I was wrong.
It had simply removed the woman most willing to challenge her.
“What did Victoria say about Mama?”
Isabella stared at her cleaned hands.
“That Mama didn’t know Bellandi rules.”
“Which rules?”
She thought.
“Girls quiet.”
My stomach turned.
“Anything else?”
“Kids don’t sit with bosses.”
That one I knew was false.
My father sat me beside him from the age of six. Whether that was healthy was another question, but children had never been banned from family tables.
Victoria invented traditions whenever they were useful.
I left Isabella with my most trusted female guard and Margaret, her longtime nanny, only after she agreed.
Then I returned to the ballroom.
Victoria was sitting upright again.
Marcus stood beside her.
I placed the collar on the table.
“You used Elena’s death to get access to my daughter.”
Victoria stared.
“I helped raise her.”
“No.”
My voice stayed low.
“You helped yourself to authority I never gave you.”
Marcus scoffed.
“You were gone half the time.”
I looked at him.
“And somehow that made you her father?”
Silence.
Victoria leaned forward.
“Someone had to teach Isabella what this family is.”
May you like
I looked at the collar.
“You taught her she was beneath it.”
