Chapter 6 - Ghosts of the Past
Catherine walked through the gates with the easy confidence of someone who believed she still held a key to this property. Her heels clicked sharply against the cobblestone courtyard.
Alessandro stood on the stone steps of the foyer, his hands buried deep in his trouser pockets, his expression completely unreadable.
"Catherine," he said flatly. "You're trespassing."
She stopped ten feet away, a thin, ironic smile touching her lips. "Trespassing? In the house where I lived for four years? Oh, Alessandro, don't be dramatic. I heard the gossip all the way in Manhattan. The cold, ruthless Alessandro Moretti has turned his fortress into a daycare center. I had to come see for myself if the rumors were true."
"The rumors are true," Alessandro said. "Now say what you came to say and get off my property."
Catherine’s eyes flicked up toward the second-floor windows where a small curtain fluttered. "Is it true what they're saying? That the boy belongs to you? That the quiet little cleaning lady you hired off the street was actually carrying your secret heir all this time?"
"It's none of your concern," Alessandro replied coldly.
"It's everyone's concern, Alessandro!" Catherine stepped closer, her voice rising with a sudden edge of bitterness. "For three years you pushed me away because you claimed you had no heart left to give — because you were too busy burying your friends and running your bloody empire. And yet, you take in a maid's bastard and treat him like a prince?"
"Watch your tongue," Alessandro warned, his voice dropping an octave. The air around him seemed to freeze. "You forfeited the right to judge anyone in this house the day you walked out those gates."
Catherine flinched, but her stubborn pride kept her standing her ground. "You're a fool, Alessandro. The Verrettis are already talking. They think you've gone soft. They think an adopted heir makes you vulnerable. If you think you can play suburban father while running three boroughs, you're signing your own death warrant."
"Let them try," Alessandro said quietly. "They can come through the same gates you're standing at."
Before Catherine could retort, the heavy oak front door creaked open behind Alessandro. Lucas poked his head out, his miniature black blazer slightly crooked, holding a plastic dinosaur in one hand.
"Mister?" Lucas called out, his gray-blue eyes fixing on Catherine with innocent curiosity. "Is it lunchtime?"
Catherine stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at the boy — at the unmistakable shape of his jaw, the exact curve of his brow, and those striking, haunted eyes that belonged entirely to Alessandro Moretti.
The color drained from her face. "My God," she whispered. "He really does look like you."
"Marco," Alessandro called out without turning around. "Escort Ms. Vance back to her car. Make sure she doesn't lose her way out."
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"Gladly, boss," Marco stepped out from the shadows of the porch, gesturing firmly toward the open gates.
Catherine looked at Alessandro one last time, a mixture of shock and lingering resentment in her eyes, before turning and walking back to her car without another word.
