Chapter 5 - THE FIANCÉE'S BEAUTIFUL LIE
Alessandro moved Meline into the main house that evening.
She protested for twenty minutes.
He listened for nineteen.
At the twentieth, he said, "You can have the guest suite, your own key, and complete privacy. You can also return to your room whenever security confirms it is safe. But until we identify the person threatening you, I won't pretend this is a normal situation."
Meline folded her arms.
"You make everything sound like an order."
"It's a bad habit."
"At least you admit it."
He gave her a long look.
"Would you prefer I lied?"
"No. I've had enough of those."
The words came out more bitterly than she intended.
For a moment, something softened in his expression.
Then a car pulled into the courtyard.
A woman stepped out wearing a tailored emerald dress and heels that clicked against the stone. Her dark hair fell in glossy waves, and she carried herself with the confidence of someone accustomed to being photographed.
Celeste Harrington.
Alessandro's fiancée.
Meline had heard the staff discuss the engagement for weeks. Celeste was the daughter of a wealthy political family and a regular fixture at charity galas, business dinners, and magazine events. The wedding was supposed to unite two influential families.
Celeste entered the foyer and kissed Alessandro on the cheek.
"Darling, why didn't you tell me you were bringing someone new into the house?"
Her eyes moved to Meline.
There was no open hostility in them. Only the quick, measuring glance of a woman deciding whether someone posed a threat.
"This is Meline Pierce," Alessandro said. "She's assisting my father."
"How lovely."
Celeste extended her hand.
Meline shook it.
Celeste's grip was cold and brief.
"I hope you've been enjoying the estate. It can be overwhelming for someone unfamiliar with our customs."
"I've managed."
"Good. Alessandro needs people who understand discretion."
The emphasis was unmistakable.
Meline excused herself and headed toward the kitchen.
She had barely reached the corridor when she heard Celeste's voice behind her.
"She's not what I expected."
Alessandro replied, "What did you expect?"
"Someone less... noticeable."
Meline stopped.
She knew what the woman meant.
Her size. Her plain uniform. Her refusal to shrink herself into the background.
She continued walking before she could hear the answer.
That evening, Celeste organized a formal dinner to reassure the estate's business partners that the family remained united. Meline was assigned to help serve.
She wore a clean black uniform and a white apron. Her hair was pinned back, and she had spent ten minutes making sure her hands were steady.
The guests arrived in expensive suits and elegant dresses. Conversations revolved around shipping contracts, real estate acquisitions, and a charity foundation Celeste claimed to support.
Meline noticed that Celeste rarely looked directly at Giovanni.
Whenever he spoke, she interrupted him with questions about his health, his medications, or whether he was tired.
He answered politely, but his eyes grew colder with every exchange.
Then Celeste stood to deliver a toast.
"To family," she said, raising her glass. "To the people who protect our legacy and ensure that the next generation inherits something worthy of its name."
Several guests applauded.
Celeste smiled at Alessandro.
"And to the people who understand that not everyone who enters a home belongs in its inner circle."
Her gaze settled on Meline.
A few guests exchanged uncomfortable glances.
Meline continued pouring water.
She would not give Celeste the satisfaction of seeing her embarrassed.
Then Giovanni put down his fork.
"An interesting toast," he said. "Especially from someone who has spent years pretending to care about the elderly while quietly trying to sell the nursing home that houses her own grandmother."
Celeste's smile froze.
"Excuse me?"
"Your grandmother called me last month. She told me you had pressured her to transfer her property into a trust controlled by your family."
Alessandro turned toward his fiancée.
"Is that true?"
"Your father is confused."
"Am I?" Giovanni asked. "Then perhaps you can explain why your grandmother's attorney sent me copies of the documents."
Celeste's face flushed.
"That is a private family matter."
"Then stop using family as a weapon against people who have less money than you."
The dinner had become painfully quiet.
Celeste placed her glass down.
"I will not be humiliated by an old man who cannot distinguish loyalty from charity."
Alessandro rose.
"That's enough."
She looked at him, stunned.
"You're taking his side?"
"I'm taking the side of the person telling the truth."
For the first time, Meline saw Celeste's charm slip completely.
Beneath it was a woman accustomed to winning, and she had never learned what to do when a room stopped applauding.
She left the dining room before dessert.
Later that night, Meline found Giovanni sitting alone in the conservatory.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
He smiled faintly.
"Better than I have been in years."
She sat beside him.
"Why did you bring up her grandmother?"
"Because Celeste is not the only person who has confused kindness with weakness."
He studied Meline's face.
"You remind me of Isabella."
Meline looked away.
"I don't know if I want to be reminded of a woman I've never met."
"That is fair."
He rested a hand over hers.
"You don't owe this family anything. Not your loyalty, not your forgiveness, and certainly not your future."
She swallowed hard.
"Then why does it feel as though my entire life is being pulled apart?"
"Because someone built it around a lie."
Before she could answer, Alessandro appeared in the doorway.
He looked unusually pale.
"Father," he said, "the nurse's apartment wasn't the only place searched today."
He held up a small evidence bag.
Inside was an old silver locket.
Meline recognized it immediately.
Her grandfather had worn it around his neck for as long as she could remember.
"Where did you get that?" she whispered.
"It was found in the possession of the woman who died this morning."
Alessandro looked at the locket, then at Meline.
"There's something engraved inside."
He opened it.
May you like
Two words appeared beneath the faded photograph.
ISABELLA'S DAUGHTER.
