The Billionaires Broken Heiress

CHAPTER10

Another night another insomnia, I didn’t sleep.

How could I sleep, knowing someone had tried to breach our building? Knowing they’d threatened my son directly? Knowing that messag 'the past is coming' sat on my phone like a countdown to something I couldn’t predict or prevent?

By the time it was day break, I’d given up on rest entirely. Instead, I stood in Luca’s doorway, watching him sleep. His face peaceful in the early morning light. Rex clutched in one arm. Completely unaware of the danger around him.

He looked so small in that big bed. So vulnerable. So peaceful.

I spent six years keeping him safe through constant movement, vigilance, and isolation. Now I was trying a different approach staying still, building alliances, trusting others.

Praying it would work this time so we could stop running and he would have a normal childhood.

“He’s fine.”

I turned. Ghost stood behind me, looking like he’d been up all night too. Probably had been.

“I know,” I said quietly. “I just needed to see him.”

“Boss has tripled security like he promised. Two guards outside this room at all times. Camera feeds monitored constantly. No one gets to this floor without biometric clearance and facial recognition.” Ghost leaned against the doorframe. “Kid’s safer here than anywhere else in the city.”

“Is he? Because someone still got close enough to try..”

“They didn’t get close. They didn’t even make it past the lobby. That’s the system working.” His voice was firm but not unkind. “You’re used to being the only line of defense. Used to trusting no one but yourself. But you’ve got an entire organization behind you now. Let us do our jobs.”

It was the same message Dante had given me last night. The same lesson I was apparently still learning.

Trust wasn’t weakness. Isolation wasn’t strength.

“Did you get anything from the man you caught?” I asked.

“Not yet. He’s trained to resist interrogation. But Russo’s got specialists coming in this morning. People who know how to make even the most disciplined soldiers talk.” Ghost’s expression was carefully neutral. “It won’t be pretty. But it’ll be effective.”

I should have been horrified. Should have recoiled from the casual mention of torture.

Instead, I felt something darker. Something that recognized that in this world, information was survival. And survival required hard choices.

“Good,” I said simply.

Ghost studied me for a moment. “You’re different than you were three days ago.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah. Harder. More… present. Like you’ve finally stopped running even when you’re standing still.” He paused. “It’s good. The kid needs a mother who can protect him in this world. Not one who’s always looking for the exit.”

The observation stung because it was true. I had been looking for exits. Planning escape routes. Always ready to run.

But running hadn’t worked. Not really. It had kept us alive but it hadn’t kept us safe. There was a difference.

“I’m trying to be better,” I said.

“You’re succeeding.” Ghost pushed off the doorframe. “Boss wants to see you when you’re ready. Something about this morning’s agenda.”

“Okay. Give me twenty minutes.”

I took one last look at Luca memorizing the peaceful image then headed to my room to shower and change.

Time to face whatever came next.

Dante was in his office when I arrived, phone pressed to his ear, speaking rapid Italian that sounded both elegant and threatening. He gestured for me to enter, to sit, while he finished the call.

“ non mi interessa quanto ci vorrà. Voglio risposte entro stasera...” He listened. “Bene. Chiamami quando hai qualcosa.” He ended the call, set down the phone, turned his attention to me. “Morning.”

“Morning. Any progress?”

“Some. The man we detained had a tattoo..small, easily missed that matches a private military contractor out of Eastern Europe. Very expensive. Very discreet. Used by people who want plausible deniability.” He pulled up a file on his computer. “We’re tracing their client list now. Should have something by tonight.”

“Eastern Europe,” I repeated. “Vincent has connections there. Through his import business.”

“Exactly. Which either means Vincent hired them, or someone’s trying very hard to make it look like he did.” Dante leaned back in his chair. “We’re missing something. Some piece that makes all of this make sense.”

“What if it’s simpler than we think? What if Vincent really is behind everything the m******e, the threats, the attempt last night and we’re overthinking it?”

“Maybe. But my instincts say otherwise.” He studied me. “Did you sleep?”

“No.”

“Neither did I.” He rubbed his face tiredly. “But we can’t afford to be off our game today. I need you alert for this afternoon.”

“This afternoon?”

“Gianna called this morning. Wants to meet. Just you and her. Says she has information about last night. About the person who sent those messages.” His expression was carefully neutral. “I told her yes.”

My stomach tightened. “You want me to meet with her alone?”

“I want you to start building your own network. Your own alliances. Gianna’s offering that. She wouldn’t do it if she didn’t see value in you.” Dante pulled out another file. “But you’re not going unprepared. I’ve been tracking Gianna Costello for five years. Here’s everything you need to know about her.”

He slid the folder across the desk. I opened it, found detailed profiles. Business holdings. Known associates. Family history. Psychological assessments from surveillance reports.

It was thorough. Almost too invasive.

“ hah you spy on your allies?” I asked.

“I gather information on everyone. Allies, enemies, and the people who haven’t decided which they are yet.” He tapped the folder. “Knowledge is protection. The more you know about someone, the harder it is for them to manipulate you.”

I scanned through the file. Gianna had taken over her husband’s territory after his death but the circumstances of that death were suspicious. Officially ruled an accident. Unofficially believed to be assassination by a rival family.

She spent two years consolidating power. Eliminating threats. Building alliances. Now she controlled significant territory and commanded respect from men who initially dismissed her as a temporary placeholder.

She earned everything she had through intelligence and ruthlessness.

“She’s impressive,” I said.

“She is. She’s also dangerous. Don’t mistake her interest in you for friendship. Gianna doesn’t have friends. She has assets and liabilities. Right now, you’re potentially valuable. Stay that way.”

“How?”

“By being smart. By listening more than you talk. By understanding that everything she tells you today will be calculated. She’ll share information, but she’ll also be gathering it. Reading you. Deciding how useful you can be to her long-term.” Dante stood, moved around the desk. “This is your first real negotiation, Aria. Not a dinner with witnesses. Not a meeting with me there to guide you. Just you and one of the smartest players in this city.”

The weight of that settled on my shoulders. Heavy. Challenging.

But also exciting. Because this was what I wanted. To be taken seriously. To be trusted with real responsibility. To prove I could navigate this world on my own terms.

“What do you want me to find out?” I asked.

“Everything. What she knows about last night’s attempt. Who she thinks is behind it. What her real interest is in helping you.” He paused. “And most importantly what she wants in return. Because she’ll want something, Aria. People like Gianna don’t give without expecting to receive.”

“Understood.”

“Good. You meet her at two PM. Neutral location a café in SoHo that she suggested. Ghost will drive you but he’ll stay with the car. No obvious security. She requested privacy.”

“Okay.”

“And Aria?” Dante’s hand caught my chin, tilting my face up to meet his eyes. “Remember what you did last night. How you commanded that room. How you earned respect by being smart and strategic. Do that again today. Don’t revert to the scared girl trying to survive. Be the woman who’s claiming her place in this world.”

“I will.”

“I know you will.” He released me. “Go spend time with our son Luca before you leave. He missed you last night. Asked for you three times before bed.”

Guilt stabbed through me. “I should have been there.”

“You were doing what needed to be done. Building foundations for his future. Making connections that will keep him safe.” Dante’s voice softened. “But yes. Go be with him now. You’ve got a few hours before you need to leave.”

I found Luca in the kitchen with Maria, covered in flour, attempting to make pancakes. The kitchen looked like a disaster zone. Flour everywhere. Batter on the counter. A pan smoking slightly on the stove.

Maria saw me and her expression said 'help'.

“Mama!” Luca beamed, oblivious to the chaos. “Look! I’m making breakfast! Maria’s teaching me!”

“I see that.” I moved to the stove, rescued the burning pancake. “This is… ambitious.”

“I wanted to make you breakfast because you and Dad were so busy last night and I thought you’d be hungry this morning.” His face was so earnest. So full of love and good intentions. “Is it okay? Did I do good?”

My heart melted. “You did amazing, baby.”

“Even though the kitchen’s messy?”

“Even though the kitchen’s messy. The best cooking always makes a mess.” I ruffled his flour-dusted hair. “How about we finish these together?”

“Really?”

“Really. But first..” I grabbed a towel, wiped some flour off his face. “..we should probably clean you up a little. You look like you wrestled a bag of flour and lost.”

He giggled. That beautiful, pure sound that made everything else worth it.

We spent the next hour making pancakes. Most of them came out misshapen and slightly burned. Luca declared them perfect anyway. We sat at the counter together, eating our imperfect breakfast, and for a moment everything felt normal.

Like we were just a mother and son having breakfast. Not people being hunted. Not pieces in a dangerous game.

Just us.

“Mama?” Luca asked through a mouthful of pancake. “Are you happy here?”

The question caught me off guard. “What do you mean?”

“In the new house. With Dad. With all the changes.” He swung his legs nervously. “Because you seem sad sometimes. And worried. And I don’t want you to be sad.”

I pulled him close. “I’m not sad, baby. I’m just… adjusting. Learning how to live in one place again instead of always moving. It’s different. But it’s good different.”

“Do you like Dad?”

“Yes. I like Dad.”

“Good. Because I really like him. He’s smart and strong and he knows about dinosaurs and space and he said when I’m older he’ll teach me about business.” Luca looked up at me. “Is that okay? That I like him so much?”

“It’s more than okay. I’m glad you two are getting along.”

“I wish we’d always been here. That I’d always known Dad. But Ghost said sometimes families take time to find each other.” He paused. “Is that true?”

“Yes. That’s true.”

“Okay. Then I’m glad we found Dad. Even if it took a long time.” He hugged me tight. “I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, baby. So much.”

We finished breakfast. Cleaned up the kitchen...which took longer than making the pancakes had. Then Luca asked if he could go play with Ghost, who’d promised to teach him some “cool moves.”

Self-defense training, probably. Disguised as play.

I let him go. Watched him bound off with that endless six-year-old energy. Then I retreated to my room to prepare for the meeting with Gianna.

This was a test. I knew it. She was evaluating whether I was worth her time and resources. Whether I could be molded into an ally or needed to be dismissed as irrelevant.

I couldn’t afford to be irrelevant.

I chose my clothes carefully. Not the armor of last night’s designer dress. Something simpler. Tailored pants. A silk blouse. Expensive but understated. Confident without being ostentatious.

I studied myself in the mirror. Saw my mother’s eyes looking back. My father’s determined jawline. Seven years of survival written in the set of my shoulders.

I was ready.

Or as ready as I’d ever be.

The café in SoHo was exactly the kind of place someone like Gianna would choose. Upscale but not flashy. Discreet. With private booths in the back where conversations wouldn’t be overheard.

Ghost dropped me at the entrance. “I’ll be in the car. Any problems, you text me. I’m thirty seconds away.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“That’s what everyone says right before they’re not fine.” But he drove off, giving me the privacy Gianna had requested.

I entered the café. Spotted her immediately in a back booth. She was dressed casually for her in what was probably a thousand-dollar sweater and designer jeans that looked effortless but had definitely been carefully chosen.

She stood when she saw me. Extended her hand. “Aria. Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for the invitation.” We shook hands. Professional. Careful.

We sat. A server appeared, took our orders espresso for both then disappeared with practiced discretion.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” Gianna said. “Last night, when I warned you not to go to that bathroom, I wasn’t being altruistic. I was protecting an investment.”

“An investment?”

“You. You’re potentially valuable, Aria. Or you could be. Right now you’re just potential.” She leaned forward slightly. “I want to help you become valuable. Actually valuable. Someone the families take seriously. Someone who can hold her own in this world.”

“Why?”

“Because we need more women in power. Real power. Not trophy wives or figureheads. Actual bosses who command respect.” Her eyes were sharp. Assessing. “And because having you as an ally benefits me. Dante’s powerful but he’s also territorial. Dealing with him requires… navigation. You could be a bridge. A way to access Russo resources without dealing directly with him.”

“So I’d be useful to you.”

“Yes. But you’d also gain from the arrangement. I can teach you things Dante can’t. How to read social dynamics. How to manipulate without seeming manipulative. How to build a reputation that makes people think twice before crossing you.” She paused. “I can make you dangerous, Aria. Actually dangerous. Not just protected by your husband’s power but powerful in your own right.”

It was seductive. The offer. The possibility.

But I’d learned to look for traps in generous offers.

“What would you want in return?” I asked.

“Loyalty. Information when it’s relevant. A voice in your ear that isn’t Dante’s. Access to Moretti connections you haven’t tapped yet.” She smiled slightly. “Nothing you can’t afford to give. Nothing that betrays your husband or compromises your family. Just… partnership. Between two women who understand what it takes to survive in a world built by and for men.”

I considered this. Weighed the benefits against the risks.

She was offering mentorship. Access. Protection of a different kind than Dante could provide.

But she was also offering another alliance to navigate. Another person whose interests might not always align with mine. Another potential point of leverage someone could use against me.

“I need to think about it,” I said.

“Of course. Take your time. But not too much time.” Gianna’s expression turned serious. “Now, about last night. The person who sent you those messages. I did some research after our conversation.”

“And?”

“And I found something interesting. The phrasing they used ‘little bird’ that’s not common knowledge. Your father used that nickname with you, but privately. Only people very close to your family would know that.”

“I know. That’s what made the messages so threatening.”

“Exactly. So I made a list of everyone who had that kind of access to the Moretti family seven years ago. People who were at your father’s house regularly. Who attended family dinners. Who heard private conversations.” She pulled out a folded paper from her purse. “There are seventeen names on this list. Five are dead. Three left the country permanently. That leaves nine.”

She slid the paper across the table.

I unfolded it. Scanned the names.

Most were expected. My father’s closest lieutenants. Business partners. Family friends.

But one name made my blood freeze.

Marco Santini.

One of Dante’s most trusted men.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Gianna said quietly. “But before you jump to conclusions, understand that being on this list doesn’t make someone guilty. It just makes them possible.”

“Marco has access to everything. Dante’s security systems. Our schedules. The building layout.” My mind raced. “He was at the wedding. He knows about Luca. He has the resources to hire contractors..”

“He also saved Dante’s life twice. Has been loyal for fifteen years. And has no obvious motive for betraying the Russo family.” Gianna held up a hand. “I’m not saying it’s not him. I’m saying be careful before you accuse. Because if you’re wrong, you damage a crucial relationship. And if you’re right but can’t prove it, you warn him that you’re watching.”

She was right. I couldn’t just go to Dante with this. Not without evidence. Not without certainty.

“What do I do?” I asked.

“You watch. You gather information. You look for patterns.” Gianna finished her espresso. “And you learn to play the long game. Because power isn’t built in dramatic confrontations. It’s built in small moves. Careful observations. Patient manipulation.”

“That’s what you’re teaching me? How to manipulate?”

“I’m teaching you how to survive. In this world, those are the same thing.” She stood. “Think about my offer. About partnership. About becoming more than just Dante Russo’s wife. And call me when you’re ready to learn how to actually claim the power you inherited.”

She left money on the table for both our drinks. Walked away with that elegant confidence that came from years of doing this.

Leaving me sitting there with a list of suspects and a decision to make.

Trust Dante with this information and risk accusing one of his most loyal men?

Or investigate on my own and risk keeping more secrets from the person I just promised to trust?

There was no good answer.

Just choices. All of them complicated.

I tucked the list into my purse. Finished my espresso. Tried to figure out what the hell I was going to do.

Because Gianna was right about one thing.

Power was built in small moves. Careful decisions. Patient strategy.

And I was just beginning to learn how to play, and play well.