Chapter 4: Six Months Later - Alessandro's POV
1290 Words
Alessandro's wedding had been perfect.
Three hundred guests at The Plaza. Vanessa in custom Vera Wang. The Times had run a feature: "Manhattan Royalty Unites: Castellano-Whitmore Wedding Marks Historic Merger of Two Real Estate Empires."
Historic merger. That's exactly what it was.
He stared at the platinum ring on his finger and felt absolutely nothing. Six months married, and he'd felt more looking at Sienna's empty coffee cup than he'd felt saying "I do" to the woman who now shared his last name.
"Are you even listening to me?"
Alessandro looked up. Vanessa stood in the doorway wearing tennis whites and an expression of cool irritation.
"Sorry," he said, not meaning it. "What were you saying?"
"The Hendersons' dinner party. Saturday night." She crossed her arms. "I need you actually present this time. Last week you spent half the evening staring at your phone like a teenager. It's embarrassing."
"I was handling a business emergency."
"You were texting someone who never texts back." Her smile was sharp as glass. "Don't think I haven't noticed."
Vanessa wasn't stupid. She'd known about Sienna from the beginning, had tolerated the arrangement as long as he was discreet.
Except Sienna wasn't his affair anymore. And the texts Vanessa had noticed weren't replies—they were drafts. Hundreds of them, typed and deleted, an endless cycle of words he could never send.
I was wrong. I miss you. Please call me.
Delete. Delete. Delete.
"I'll be there Saturday," Alessandro said.
Vanessa left, and Alessandro pulled out his phone. Scrolled to the name he'd never been able to delete: Sienna Morales.
The last text in their thread was from him, sent three weeks after she'd left. She'd never responded.
He'd checked her social media obsessively. But Sienna had gone dark—private accounts, no updates. He'd driven past her Brooklyn apartment six times. Called Jade once from a burner phone. She'd listened for three seconds then said, "She doesn't want to talk to you, Alessandro. Stop calling." Click.
A knock saved him from his spiral. Marcus, his assistant, poked his head in.
"You wanted the briefing on the Moretti Industries situation?"
Alessandro forced his brain back to business. "Come in. What's the latest?"
Marcus settled in with his tablet. "Moretti's still pushing for the Brooklyn development. He's got community support now—someone's been helping him with PR strategy. It's brilliant. They're framing it as 'sustainable urban renewal with community input.' Town halls, local partnerships. The narrative's completely shifted."
Alessandro's jaw tightened. Dante Moretti. Five years ago, Alessandro had sabotaged one of Moretti's major deals—strategic information shared with the right investors. Moretti had lost millions.
Apparently he'd recovered.
"Who's running his PR?" Alessandro asked.
"That's the interesting part." Marcus swiped through his tablet. "Sterling & Cross is handling strategy, but one consultant's been spearheading community engagement. She's good, Boss. Really good. I saw her at the Hartwell Foundation event last month and—"
"Just tell me who it is."
"Sienna Morales."
The name hit him like a physical blow.
"What?"
"Sienna Morales. She's a senior strategist at Sterling & Cross now. Got promoted a few months ago." Marcus was oblivious to the fact that Alessandro had stopped breathing. "She turned around the Hartwell campaign. Increased their donor base by forty percent. Everyone's talking about her."
"I know who she is." Alessandro's voice came out rough.
Marcus looked up, caught his expression. "Oh. Is she—was she—"
"Continue with the briefing."
"Right. So Moretti's been working with her for three weeks now. Results are already showing. If this keeps up, he'll get the permits we've been blocking for two years."
Alessandro's mind spun. Sienna was working with Dante Moretti. His rival. She was helping him succeed where Alessandro had tried to make him fail.
"Are they..." He couldn't finish the question.
Marcus hesitated. "I saw them at the event. They seemed... close. He had his hand on her back when he introduced her to people. They were laughing together. She looked happy, Boss. Really happy."
Happy. Sienna looked happy.
With Dante Moretti.
Alessandro stood abruptly, walked to the window. Six months. She'd built a career, earned a promotion, started working with his biggest rival. Maybe dating him.
While he'd been what? Married to a woman he didn't love. Drafting texts he never sent.
"Get me everything you can on their working relationship," Alessandro said. "Everything."
"Boss, I'm not sure that's—"
"Everything, Marcus."
After Marcus left, Alessandro pulled out his phone. Searched for Sienna's LinkedIn profile. There she was—professional head shot, confident smile. Senior Marketing Strategist. She'd cut her hair. It looked good.
She looked nothing like the woman who used to wait for him in his penthouse, existing in the margins of his life.
This Sienna had her own life. A full one. A successful one.
One that didn't include him.
His phone rang. Vanessa.
"I'm at the club. I'll be home around six. Try not to brood in your office all day. It's unbecoming."
She hung up.
Alessandro looked at his reflection in the window—expensive suit, platinum wedding ring, penthouse office. He had everything he was supposed to want. Everything his father had told him to prioritize.
Everything except the one thing that had actually mattered.
He pulled up Sienna's contact. Before he could talk himself out of it, he typed:
"I heard you're working with Moretti Industries. Congratulations on the success. You were always brilliant at what you do. I hope you're well."
Sent it.
Watched it turn from "Delivered" to "Read."
Watched the typing bubble appear. Disappear. Appear again. Disappear.
Then nothing.
She'd read it and chosen not to respond.
Alessandro laughed, bitter and sharp. He'd been so certain she'd come back.
But she hadn't. She'd built a better life instead. One where she worked with his enemies and looked happy and didn't waste time responding to texts from men who'd kept her as a secret.
His phone buzzed. Marcus.
"Boss, you're not going to like this. Just confirmed—Moretti and Morales were seen having dinner together last Tuesday. Not business. Looked personal. My source says he's been pursuing her for weeks."
Alessandro's hand tightened until his knuckles went white.
Dante Moretti. Of course. The universe had a sick sense of humor.
He'd lost her. Really, truly lost her. Not to time or distance, but to another man. His rival.
He should let her go.
Instead, he picked up his office phone and dialed his lawyer.
"Richard? It's Alessandro Castellano. I need you to look into Dante Moretti—everything about his current projects, his financial situation, any vulnerabilities. And find out everything about his relationship with a woman named Sienna Morales. Yes, I know how that sounds. I don't care. Just do it."
He hung up, stared at his wedding ring.
Vanessa was right. Their marriage was a business arrangement.
Which meant he was free to do whatever it took to get Sienna back.
Even if it meant destroying Dante Moretti in the process.
His phone buzzed one more time.
Sienna: "Thank you. I am well. I hope you and your wife are very happy together."
Polite. Professional. Cold.
The period at the end of their sentence.
Alessandro read it three times, then threw his phone across the room.
It shattered against the wall, screen spider webbing into a thousand pieces.
Much like his certainty that he could fix this. That she'd forgive him. That she'd ever be his again.
From the doorway, Vanessa's voice: "That's the second phone this month. Should I be worried?"
Alessandro didn't turn around.
Just stared at the broken phone and wondered when exactly he'd become the kind of man who destroyed everything he touched.
- Writer
