CHAPTER 1 — THE WEDDING THAT SHOULD HAVE ENDED
The electric clippers were still humming in Bianca’s hand.
For three seconds, nobody moved.
A thick lock of Livia’s dark hair lay on the marble floor.
The little girl stood frozen beside the bridal vanity, one hand pressed against the side of her head.
Her lower lip trembled.
Rosalie had wrapped both arms around her.
“Livia…”
The child buried her face against Rosalie’s dress.
“Daddy…”
Alessandro stood between Bianca and his daughter.
His breathing was slow.
Controlled.
Far too controlled.
Bianca stared at him.
The anger in his eyes was something she had never seen before.
She slowly lowered the clippers.
“Alessandro, I can explain.”
“You're going to explain why you were cutting my daughter's hair?”
“It wasn't like that.”
“I watched you.”
Bianca swallowed.
“I was only trying to fix it.”
“Fix it?”
Alessandro glanced at the hair scattered across the floor.
“You shaved half her head.”
“She wouldn't sit still.”
Livia began crying again.
Rosalie tightened her arms around her.
“She was begging Bianca to stop,” Rosalie said quietly.
Bianca turned on her.
“Stay out of this.”
Rosalie didn't move.
“She was hurting her.”
“I said stay out of it.”
Alessandro raised one hand.
“Enough.”
Bianca stared at him.
The room became silent.
Outside, wedding guests were still laughing.
Music was still playing.
Champagne was still being poured.
Nobody outside knew that Alessandro Moretti's wedding had just collapsed behind a closed door.
Bianca tried to recover her composure.
She walked toward him.
“Alessandro, you're overreacting.”
His eyes hardened.
“My daughter was terrified.”
“She'll forget.”
Alessandro looked at Livia.
“No.”
He pointed toward the floor.
“She'll remember.”
Bianca's face changed.
Then Alessandro said the words that made her blood run cold.
“Touch my daughter again…”
He stepped closer.
“…and the wedding is over.”
Bianca stared at him.
“You wouldn't.”
Alessandro didn't answer.
He simply turned toward the bridal room door.
“Rosalie.”
“Yes?”
“Take Livia upstairs.”
Rosalie nodded.
She lifted the little girl carefully.
Livia wrapped her arms around her neck.
As they passed Alessandro, the child reached for him.
“Daddy…”
Alessandro's expression softened immediately.
He touched her cheek.
“I'm here.”
“I don't want Bianca.”
The words were quiet.
But Bianca heard them.
Her face turned white.
Alessandro looked at his daughter.
“You don't have to be afraid.”
Livia nodded.
Then Rosalie carried her away.
Bianca watched them disappear.
The moment the door closed, her expression changed.
The frightened bride vanished.
Something colder appeared.
“You've embarrassed me.”
Alessandro turned around.
“Embarrassed you?”
“Your daughter ruined everything.”
Alessandro stared at her.
“My daughter?”
“She shouldn't have been in the bridal room.”
“You invited her.”
“I wanted her to look presentable.”
“She was already presentable.”
“She looked ridiculous.”
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
“She is six years old.”
“And she's the reason this wedding has become a nightmare.”
Alessandro stared at Bianca for several seconds.
Then he laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because he finally understood.
“This isn't about her hair.”
Bianca said nothing.
“You don't like her.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn't have to.”
He walked toward the vanity.
He picked up the clippers.
Then he looked at Bianca.
“You wanted to cut her hair.”
“I wanted to teach her a lesson.”
“A lesson?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
Bianca hesitated.
Then she said:
“For touching my wedding dress.”
Alessandro remembered.
Earlier that afternoon, Livia had accidentally stepped on Bianca's long train while carrying flowers.
Bianca had screamed at her.
Livia had apologized.
Rosalie had intervened.
Alessandro had been pulled away by the wedding coordinator before he could see what happened.
Now everything made sense.
“You punished a six-year-old because she stepped on your dress.”
Bianca crossed her arms.
“She needs discipline.”
“She needs kindness.”
“She needs a mother who doesn't hate her.”
Bianca's eyes flashed.
“I am going to be her mother.”
“No.”
Alessandro's voice was quiet.
“You were going to be my wife.”
Bianca froze.
Past tense.
“You're not going to marry me?”
“I don't know.”
Her face collapsed.
“You can't do this.”
“I can.”
“Not five minutes before the ceremony.”
“Watch me.”
Bianca stepped closer.
“You promised me.”
“I promised to marry the woman I believed you were.”
She stared at him.
“And now?”
Alessandro looked toward the door through which Livia had disappeared.
“Now I don't know who you are.”
Bianca's eyes filled with tears.
But there was no sadness in them.
Only calculation.
“You're going to destroy everything because of a haircut?”
“No.”
Alessandro shook his head.
“I'm ending this because of what I saw in your eyes when she cried.”
Bianca went still.
“You weren't worried.”
He looked directly at her.
“You were annoyed.”
She said nothing.
“That is what scares me.”
He placed the clippers on the vanity.
Then he walked out.
Bianca remained alone.
Her hands curled into fists.
The wedding music continued downstairs.
Guests were waiting.
Flowers were arranged.
The priest was ready.
Hundreds of people were expecting Alessandro Moretti to walk into the ballroom and marry Bianca Romano.
Instead, Alessandro walked upstairs to find his daughter.
And Bianca watched him leave.
Her tears disappeared.
She slowly looked at the wedding ring on her finger.
Then she smiled.
Because she knew something Alessandro didn't.
She had prepared for this possibility.
And if Alessandro wanted to cancel the wedding—
She would make sure he regretted it.
THE LITTLE GIRL
Alessandro found Livia sitting on the edge of her bedroom.
Rosalie was carefully examining the damaged side of her hair.
Livia looked up.
“Daddy.”
Alessandro knelt.
“Hey, princess.”
She immediately threw her arms around him.
He hugged her tightly.
“I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not being here.”
Livia shook her head.
“You didn't know.”
“But I should have.”
Rosalie looked at him.
“She was frightened.”
“I know.”
Livia touched her hair.
“Am I ugly now?”
Alessandro's heart broke.
“No.”
“Bianca said I looked ugly.”
Alessandro closed his eyes.
He had heard enough.
He gently touched the uneven hair.
“You're beautiful.”
“Even like this?”
“Especially like this.”
Livia smiled faintly.
“Really?”
“Really.”
She looked at Rosalie.
“Will it grow back?”
“Yes,” Rosalie said.
“How long?”
“A little while.”
Livia sighed.
“Okay.”
Alessandro kissed her forehead.
“Do you want to go home?”
She nodded immediately.
That answer told him everything.
“Then we're going home.”
Rosalie looked surprised.
“The wedding?”
“There is no wedding.”
Livia looked at him.
“Really?”
Alessandro smiled sadly.
“Really.”
For the first time that evening, the little girl smiled.
But none of them noticed the woman standing silently at the end of the hallway.
Bianca.
She had heard everything.
And she wasn't crying anymore.
THE MESSAGE
Bianca returned to the bridal suite.
She locked the door.
Then she took out her phone.
One message.
HE KNOWS.
She waited.
A reply appeared almost immediately.
THEN WE MOVE TO PLAN B.
Bianca stared at the screen.
She typed:
What about Livia?
The response came:
She is the key.
Bianca's eyes narrowed.
Then another message appeared.
And Alessandro will do anything to protect her.
Bianca slowly smiled.
Exactly.
That was why Livia was useful.
Not because Bianca cared about the child.
Because Alessandro did.
And that meant Livia was the easiest way to control him.
Bianca deleted the messages.
Then she looked at herself in the mirror.
Her wedding dress was perfect.
Her makeup was flawless.
Her hair was immaculate.
Only her expression had changed.
The sweet bride was gone.
In her place stood a woman who had spent three years planning how to enter Alessandro Moretti's life.
She wasn't going to walk away now.
Not after coming this far.
THE WOMAN IN THE BLACK CAR
Outside the mansion, a black sedan waited beneath the trees.
A woman sat inside.
She watched Bianca through the upstairs window.
Her phone rang.
Bianca answered.
“It's done.”
“Did he cancel?”
“Yes.”
“And Livia?”
“She's alive.”
A pause.
“Good.”
Bianca frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we still have time.”
“For what?”
“To make Alessandro believe he needs you.”
Bianca looked toward the hallway.
“What if he doesn't?”
The woman laughed softly.
“He will.”
“Why?”
“Because tomorrow morning, Alessandro will receive a letter.”
“What letter?”
“The one that proves Livia isn't his daughter.”
Bianca's eyes widened.
“You said the DNA test was destroyed.”
“It was.”
“Then what is the letter?”
The woman smiled.
“Something much older.”
The call ended.
Bianca stared at the phone.
For the first time that night, she looked uncertain.
Then she whispered:
“What have I gotten myself into?”
THE NEXT MORNING
Alessandro woke before sunrise.
Livia was sleeping beside him.
She had refused to sleep alone.
Rosalie had offered to stay with her.
But Livia wanted her father.
So Alessandro had spent the night beside her bed.
He watched his daughter sleep.
Then his phone vibrated.
One email.
No sender.
Subject:
YOU DON'T KNOW WHO YOUR DAUGHTER IS.
Alessandro frowned.
He opened it.
Inside was one photograph.
Livia as a newborn.
His heart stopped.
He recognized the hospital.
The date.
The blanket.
Everything.
But there was something wrong.
The photograph showed Livia being carried away by a nurse.
The nurse was not the woman listed in the hospital records.
Alessandro stared.
Then another photograph appeared.
A newborn baby.
A bracelet around her wrist.
BABY GIRL — 07:42 A.M.
Then another photograph.
A different bracelet.
BABY GIRL — 08:13 A.M.
Two babies.
Same hospital.
Same date.
Alessandro's blood ran cold.
A final message appeared:
ASK ROSALIE WHAT HAPPENED THAT MORNING.
Alessandro slowly turned toward the doorway.
Rosalie was standing there.
Her face was pale.
“You saw it.”
She nodded.
“You know.”
Rosalie's eyes filled with tears.
“I've been waiting for this day.”
Alessandro stood.
“What happened the day Livia was born?”
Rosalie looked at the sleeping child.
Then back at him.
“Your daughter was never supposed to come home with you.”
Alessandro froze.
“What?”
Rosalie closed the door.
And whispered:
“Because the baby you were given wasn't the baby who was born to the woman you loved.”
Alessandro's entire world tilted.
“Who was Livia's mother?”
Rosalie looked at him.
“You already know her.”
He stared.
“No.”
Rosalie nodded.
“Yes.”
She whispered one name.
“Clara.”
Alessandro's face went completely white.
Because Clara had been dead for six years.
May you like
Or at least—
That was what everyone had told him.
