Chapter 2: The Bruise
No one moved.
Marcia set down her fork slowly.
"Giorgio.
You're overreacting.
She's a grown woman.
A mother has duties."
"She passed out on the floor." Giorgio's voice was quiet.
That made it worse.
"With a three-week-old baby screaming next to her."
"She's dramatic—"
"Don't." He didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
Colin finally spoke.
"Dad, this isn't what it looks like."
Giorgio turned to face him.
"Then explain the receipt."
Silence.
"Explain why your wife was sent out at four in the morning.
Alone.
Three weeks after giving birth." He stepped closer.
"Explain why you looked away the second she told me."
Colin's jaw tightened.
"Alessandra exaggerates.
She always has."
Alessandra made a small sound.
Not a word.
Just pain.
That was the moment Giorgio noticed something else.
A bruise along her wrist.
Partially covered by her sleeve.
He looked at Marcia.
Marcia looked at her plate.
Giorgio crouched beside Alessandra and gently pushed the sleeve back.
The bruise was old.
At least a week.
He stood up slowly.
"How long has this been going on?"
Alessandra shook her head.
Her eyes filled.
"Please don't make it worse."
"How long, Alessandra?"
She didn't answer.
But one of the bodyguards did.
May you like
"Sir…
this isn't the first time we've been called to this address."
