The Billionaires Broken Heiress

CHAPTER 11

I spent the entire car ride back to the penthouse staring at the list Gianna had given me.

Nine names. Nine people who had been close enough to my family to know my father’s pet name for me. Nine potential traitors who could have orchestrated the m******e that destroyed my world, destabilized my ones beautiful life.

And one of them Marco Santini worked directly for my husband Dante.

Ghost glanced at me in the rear view mirror concerned. “Meeting go okay?”

“Fine. Productive.”

“Gianna give you any trouble?”

“No. She was… extremely helpful, actually.” I folded the paper, tucked it back into my purse. “Ghost, can I ask you something? About Marco Santini?”

His eyes sharpened in the mirror. “What about him?”

“How long have you known him?”

“Three years. Since I started working for Russo.” He navigated through traffic with practiced ease. “Why?”

“What’s your read on him? Trustworthy?”

Ghost was quiet for a moment. The kind of quiet that came from someone weighing their words carefully. “He’s been with the boss a long time. Fifteen years. Worked his way up from street soldier to captain. That kind of longevity usually means loyalty.”

“Usually?”

“But everyone has a price. Everyone has pressure points. Family. Money. Fear. Something that can flip them.” He met my eyes in the mirror. “You think Marco’s the traitor?”

“I think he’s on a list of people who could be.”

“Does the boss know?”

“Not yet.”

“You planning to tell him?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? The one question i had been wrestling with since Gianna walked away.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “If I tell him and I’m wrong, I damage Dante’s relationship with someone he trusts. If I don’t tell him and I’m right, I’m keeping secrets again. Exactly what I promised not to do.”

“Third option,” Ghost said. “You watch. You gather evidence. You make sure before you accuse.”

“That’s what Gianna suggested.”

“Gianna’s smart. Survived a long time in this world by being careful. By not making moves until she was certain.” He pulled up to our building. “But she’s also ruthless. Remember that. Whatever she’s offering you, whatever help she’s giving, she’s got her own agenda.”

“I know.”

“Just making sure.” He parked, turned to face me. “For what it’s worth, Mrs. Russo, you’re handling this well. Better than most people would. You’re learning fast.”

“I don’t feel like I’m handling it well. I feel like I’m drowning and pretending I can swim, i might not be the best swimmer just yet.”

“That’s exactly what handling it looks like in this world.” He smiled slightly. “Nobody really knows what they’re doing. We’re all just pretending and hoping we don’t get caught.”

The observation was oddly comforting.

We entered the building together. Security was still tight every person we passed was someone I recognized from Dante’s team. No unfamiliar faces. No weak points.

At least none that were visible.

But someone had gotten close enough to try. Someone was still out there, planning their next move.

Someone who might be walking these same hallways.

“Mrs. Russo.” One of the security team approached as we entered the lobby. “Mr. Russo asked that you join him in his office when you returned.”

“Thank you.”

I rode the elevator up, composing myself. Preparing for questions about the meeting. About what Gianna had said. About what I’d learned.

About whether I tell him everything or hold back the one piece of information that could explode in both our faces.

Dante was on the phone when I entered his office. He gestured for me to sit, to wait, while he finished the conversation.

“…sì, capisco. Ma ho bisogno di conferma entro stasera..” He listened, jaw tightening. “Bene. Chiamami.” He ended the call, turned his full attention to me. “How was it?”

“Interesting. Gianna’s… not what I expected.”

“Which was?”

“I don’t know. More hostile? More competitive? Instead she offered to mentor me. To teach me how to navigate this world independently.”

Dante’s expression was unreadable. “And you said?”

“That I will think about it.”

“Smart. Gianna doesn’t do anything without ulterior motives. But she’s also incredibly valuable as an ally. She has connections and influence that even I don’t have access to.” He leaned back in his chair. “What else did she say?”

This was the moment. The choice point.

Tell him everything including Marco’s name on the list and risk destroying his trust in a loyal soldier.

Or hold back. Investigate on my own. Make sure before I dropped that particular bomb.

“She confirmed what we suspected. That whoever sent those messages had to be someone close to my family. Someone who knew personal details.” I pulled out the list..minus Marco’s name, which I’d mentally noted before showing it. “She gave me a list of possibilities.”

I handed over the paper with eight names. All true. All people who had access.

Just not complete.

Dante scanned it quickly. “Most of these are dead or gone. That leaves three active possibilities.” He looked up. “Good work. This narrows our search considerably.”

The lie sat heavy in my chest. But I pushed it down. Justified it.

I wasn’t lying. I was just… being thorough. Making sure before I accused someone Dante had trusted for fifteen years.

“What about the man you detained?” I asked, changing the subject. “Did you get anything from him?”

“Not yet. He’s professionally trained to resist. But we will. It’s just a matter of time and… persuasion.” His voice went cold on that last word. “He’ll talk. They always do eventually.”

I should have been disturbed by the casual mention of torture. Should have recoiled from the darkness in his voice.

Instead, I understood. Because in this world, information was survival. And survival required hard choices.

“I want to be there,” I said. “When he talks. I want to hear what he says.”

Dante studied me. “That’s not something you need to see, Aria. It won’t be pleasant.”

“I’ve seen unpleasant things. I survived unpleasant things. I can handle it.”

“This is different…”

“Why? Because I’m a woman? Because I’m supposed to be sheltered from the reality of what this world requires?” I leaned forward. “You told me last night to stop carrying everything alone. To let you help. Well, I’m asking you to let me help too. To include me. To stop treating me like I need protection from the truth.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then nodded slowly. “Okay. When he breaks, I’ll call you. We’ll question him together.”

“Thank you.”

“But Aria…” His voice turned serious. “Once you see that side of this world, you can’t unsee it. Once you cross certain lines, you can’t go back. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“I’ve already crossed lines. I’ve already seen darkness. I’ve spent seven years living in it.” I met his eyes. “I’m not the innocent girl you knew seven years ago. I can’t be. Not if I want to survive what’s coming.”

“I know.” Something shifted in his expression. Not quite sadness. More like… recognition. “I just wanted to make sure you knew. That you understood the cost.”

“I understand.”

My phone buzzed. I glanced at it. Unknown number.

My blood ran cold.

“What is it?” Dante asked sharply.

I turned the screen so he could see.

“Clever girl. But investigations work both ways. Be careful what you dig up. Some truths are buried for good reasons. And some gravediggers don’t survive what they unearth.”

“They’re watching,” I said. “They knew I met with Gianna. Knew she gave me information.”

“Which means they have eyes on you. Or on her. Or both.” Dante’s expression went dangerous. “We need to find this person. Now. Before they make another move.”

“How?”

“By doing exactly what they warned you not to do. We dig. We investigate. We find every piece of dirt until something connects.” He stood. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

He led me to a part of the penthouse I hadn’t been in before. Past his office, down a short hallway, to a door with a security pad that required both fingerprint and retinal scan.

The door opened to reveal what could only be described as a war room.

Monitors lined one wall dozens of them, showing security feeds from various locations. The building. Street corners. What looked like other businesses and properties. A massive map of New York took up another wall, marked with pins and strings connecting different locations like a spider’s web.

And in the center, a conference table covered in files, photographs, and evidence bags.

“This is where we coordinate everything,” Dante said. “Security. Operations. Investigations. Everything that keeps us three steps ahead of our enemies.” He pulled up a digital file on one of the monitors. “And this is everyone we’re currently investigating for the leak.”

Faces appeared on screen. Names. Background information. Known associates.

I scanned them quickly. Recognized some from Dante’s organization. Others were new.

And there, about halfway down the list, was Marco Santini.

“You’re already investigating him,” I said quietly.

“I’m investigating everyone with high-level access. Marco’s on that list because of his position, not because I suspect him.” Dante pulled up Marco’s file. “Fifteen years of service. No suspicious financial activity. No contact with the Carozzas or their associates. No red flags in his communications or behavior. He’s as clean as they come.”

“Maybe he’s just good at hiding it.”

“Maybe. Or maybe he’s exactly what he appears to be a loyal soldier who’s been with me since the beginning.” Dante looked at me. “Why are you asking about Marco specifically?”

This was it. The moment where I could come clean. Show him the complete list. Admit I held back some information.

Or I could deflect. Justify. Continue the investigation on my own before potentially destroying an innocent man’s career and reputation.

“Just a feeling,” I said. “Something about the way Gianna described the kind of person who could have this level of access. It made me think of people in positions of trust. People who could be above suspicion.”

Not quite a lie. Not quite the truth.

The middle ground where I been living since I arrived.

“Your instincts aren’t wrong,” Dante said. “The best traitors are the ones no one suspects. That’s what makes them dangerous.” He closed Marco’s file. “But we need evidence. Not instincts. Not feelings. Cold, hard evidence that proves guilt beyond doubt.”

“How do we get that?”

“We watch. We wait. We look for mistakes. Everyone makes them eventually. Even professionals.” He turned to face me fully. “And we work together. You tell me if you see anything suspicious. Anyone behaving oddly. Any conversations that feel off. And I do the same.”

“Together,” I agreed.

“No more secrets,” he said. Making it a statement. A reminder. A test.

“No more secrets,” I echoed.

The lie tasted bitter. I knew i was learning to do this on my own.

But I swallowed it anyway. Told myself it was temporary. That I will tell him as soon as I was sure. As soon as I had proof.

Told myself I was protecting him. Protecting Marco. Protecting everyone by being thorough.

But deep down, I knew the truth.

I was protecting myself. From being wrong. From looking foolish. From proving that maybe I wasn’t as ready for this world as I’d claimed.

From proving that my father might have been right about me after all.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of normalcy that felt surreal given everything else.

Lunch with Luca, who told me elaborate stories about the “cool moves” Ghost had taught him. Dinner with Dante, Maria, and Luca like we were actually a family instead of people bound by contracts and necessity. Bedtime routines that felt almost peaceful.

But underneath the domestic surface, my mind was restless.

Watching. Analyzing. Looking for patterns.

I asked Maria casually about Marco during dinner preparation. “He’s been with Mr. Russo a long time, hasn’t he?”

“Fifteen years. Since the beginning. He’s like family.” She smiled. “Always polite. Always professional. Sends flowers on my birthday every year.”

That didn’t sound like a traitor.

But then, good traitors never did.

I watched the security feeds with Dante, looking for anything unusual. Anyone behaving suspiciously. Marco appeared on camera twice, once entering the building for a meeting, once leaving. Normal. Professional. Nothing that screamed guilty.

But nothing that screamed innocent either.

By the time Luca was asleep and Dante had retreated to his office for more calls, I found myself in the war room again. Alone. Staring at Marco’s file on the monitor.

Fifteen years of loyal service.

No red flags.

No evidence of betrayal.

Just a man doing his job. Earning trust through consistency and competence.

Exactly what a deep-cover traitor would do.

I pulled out my phone. Opened my notes app. Started making a list of questions I needed answers to.

How close was Marco to my family seven years ago?

Did he have access to the Moretti estate?

Where was he the night of the m******e?

Who vouched for him when Dante hired him?

What are his financial records really like not just the surface level?

I could investigate some of this myself. Quietly. Without raising alarms. Using Dante's teachings and resources.

The rest would require Dante’s resources. Which meant eventually telling him. Eventually admitting I held back information.

Eventually breaking the promise I just made about no more secrets.

“Can’t sleep?”

I jumped, nearly dropping my phone. Turned to find Dante in the doorway, still dressed but looking exhausted.

“Just thinking,” I said.

“About Marco?”

My heart kicked up. “Why would you say that?”

“Because you’ve asked about him three times today. Watched his security feed footage twice. And you’re currently staring at his file like it holds the secrets of the universe.” He moved into the room. “What aren’t you telling me, Aria?”

This was it. The moment where the lies caught up with me.

I could keep deflecting. Keep investigating alone. Keep pretending I was just being thorough.

Or I could trust him. Really trust him. The way I promised.

“Gianna’s list,” I said slowly. “The one with nine names. I only showed you eight.”

His expression went very still. “Which name did you leave off?”

“Marco Santini.”

The silence was deafening.

Then: “Why?”

“Because I wasn’t sure. Because I didn’t want to accuse someone you trust without being certain. Because I thought I could investigate on my own first and only bring it to you if I found actual evidence.”

“So instead of trusting me with the information, you decided to investigate one of my top men behind my back.” His voice was eerily calm. “After promising literally hours ago that there would be no more secrets.”

“I was trying to be thorough..”

“You were trying to control the situation. To make decisions unilaterally. To not rely on anyone but yourself.” He moved closer. “Which is exactly what you’ve been doing for seven years. Exactly what got you into trouble with those messages. Exactly what we discussed you needed to stop doing.”

“I know, but…”

“There’s no ‘but,’ Aria. Either we’re partners or we’re not. Either you trust me with informations even uncomfortable informations or you don’t.” His eyes were hard. Disappointed. “What you don’t get to do is pick and choose what I’m allowed to know based on what you think I can handle.”

He was right. I knew he was right.

But admitting it meant admitting I failed. Again. At the one thing I’d promised to do better.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “You’re right. I should have told you immediately. I should have trusted you to handle it professionally.”

“Yes. You should have.” He pulled out his phone. “Marco’s name being on that list changes things. We need to investigate him thoroughly. Now. Not quietly. Not cautiously. Thoroughly.”

“What are you doing?”

“Calling my security chief. Having Marco brought in for formal questioning. If he’s innocent, he’ll understand. If he’s guilty, we’ll find out.” He paused before dialing. “Unless you have objections?”

“No. That’s the right call.”

“Good. Because from now on, we make calls like this together. You don’t hide information to protect me. I don’t hide information to protect you. We’re honest. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Because this is the second time in as many days that you’ve kept secrets. The second time you’ve made unilateral decisions that affect both of us. I need to know that you actually understand why that’s a problem.”

“I do,” I said. “I understand that trust isn’t just about big things. It’s about the small decisions. The daily choice to be transparent even when it’s uncomfortable. I understand that partners don’t get to operate independently when their actions affect the whole team.”

“And?”

“And I’ll do better. Actually better. Not just promise to do better while continuing to make the same mistakes.”

He studied me for a long moment. Then nodded. “Okay. I believe you want to. Now let’s see if you can follow through.”

He made the call. Gave instructions for Marco to be brought in first thing tomorrow morning. Formal interview. Full investigation. Everything on the record.

It was the right move. The professional move.

But as I watched him coordinate the investigation into a man who’d been loyal for fifteen years, I couldn’t help but wonder: What if I was wrong? What if Marco was innocent and I just destroyed his career and reputation on a hunch?

What if trusting my instincts meant hurting innocent people?

And what if learning to be powerful meant accepting that sometimes you made mistakes? That sometimes you’d hurt people while trying to protect others?

That was the real cost Dante had warned me about.

Not the violence. Not the darkness. Not the hard choices.

But the knowledge that every decision had consequences. And living with those consequences even when you weren’t sure you’d made the right call.

That was the burden of power.

And I was just beginning to understand how heavy it really was.