Chapter 96

Chapter 96
Benedetta’s POV
I sat in the quiet sanctuary of my private study, my fingertips delicately tracing the emerald fabric fragments I'd carefully collected from Aria's gown. The silk was exquisite—expensive, Italian-made, the kind of quality that spoke of wealth and refined taste. The kind of fabric that would leave distinctive threads when torn.
The kind of evidence that could destroy a girl's future with a single, well-timed discovery.
Every detail of tonight's performance had unfolded exactly as I'd orchestrated it. The missing ring, Maria's perfectly rehearsed testimony, the convenient search that had revealed the "stolen" jewelry in Aria's purse—all of it executed with the precision that came from decades of careful planning and manipulation.
Adriana. My beautiful daughter—for that's what she was, in every way that mattered—had grown up believing herself to be the legitimate Montrosso princess. She trusted me implicitly, relied on my guidance, saw me as the devoted family retainer who had helped raise her after her mother's tragic death.
The truth would destroy her. And through her, it would destroy everything I had built.
Since Elizabeth's death, I had been Adriana's constant companion, confidant, and protector. She came to me with her fears, her frustrations, her romantic dreams about marrying Damian Cavalieri and cementing the alliance between our families. She never questioned my devotion to her welfare, never suspected that every piece of advice I gave was designed to protect the secret that could unravel both our lives.
When she'd approached me weeks ago, burning with jealousy over Aria's presence at family dinners and Antonio's obvious affection for the girl, I'd seen the perfect opportunity. Adriana was feeling threatened, displaced, convinced that this nobody from the orphanage was somehow stealing her grandfather's love.
It had been almost too easy to suggest that perhaps Antonio's adoption plans were moving too quickly, that a family with the Montrosso reputation couldn't afford to take chances with someone whose background hadn't been thoroughly investigated.
"What if we could find a way to postpone the proceedings?" I'd suggested with careful delicacy. "Just long enough to ensure that she's truly worthy of the Montrosso name?"
Adriana had latched onto the idea with desperate enthusiasm. She'd been so grateful for my support, so eager to have an ally in what she saw as her fight to protect family honor.
She never knew that I was protecting something far more precious than family honor. I was protecting the elaborate lie that had given her everything she'd ever known.
Working with Maria had been equally simple. The girl was new to the household staff—I'd specifically recommended her for the position six weeks ago, right after Antonio had first mentioned his intention to adopt Aria. She was young, ambitious, and drowning in student debt from her university studies.
A envelope containing three months' salary and the promise of a permanent position in the Montrosso household had been more than enough to secure her cooperation. She'd practiced her testimony until it was flawless, learned to project exactly the right combination of reluctance and moral obligation.
"I wouldn't say anything if I wasn't sure," she'd rehearsed, her voice trembling with perfectly manufactured concern. "But I saw her near Miss Adriana's things, and she was acting suspicious."
Everything had gone according to plan. Antonio's disappointment, Ricardo's conflicted doubt, the careful withdrawal of trust that I'd seen cross the old man's features when the evidence was revealed—all of it had unfolded exactly as I'd envisioned.
The adoption proceedings were postponed indefinitely. Aria was in disgrace, cast out from the family that had briefly welcomed her. And my secret remained safe for another day.
But as I sat there in the lamplight, studying the fabric fragments that had helped seal Aria's fate, I felt the weight of Carlo's preliminary report in my jacket pocket. The information my private investigator had gathered was exactly what I'd feared—and more damning than I'd dared imagine.
Aria Rossi. Admitted to Sant'Anna Orphanage at age five. No known family background. No records of her life before arrival at the orphanage.
The dates matched perfectly. October 23rd—the night I'd abandoned the real Isabella Montrosso on the orphanage steps, wrapped in warm blankets with her distinctive red bracelet as the only mark of her true identity.
She's back. After twenty-one years, she's back.
The confirmation should have terrified me. Instead, I felt a cold satisfaction settling over me like a familiar cloak.
I pulled out my secure phone and found Carlo's number. He answered on the second ring.
"Benedetta. I have your preliminary report ready. She's living under a private arrangement with Damian Cavalieri. Very private. My sources suggest it's some kind of personal service contract, though the exact nature is heavily protected by confidentiality agreements."
Personal service contract. The euphemism was delicate, but the implications were clear. Whatever arrangement Aria had with the Cavalieri family, it was intimate and binding.
"And the sister?" I asked.
"Currently receiving treatment at Sant'Anna Hospital for chronic kidney disease. Expensive treatment—the kind that requires significant financial backing. Guess who's been covering all the medical expenses?"
"Cavalieri."
"Every penny. Private room, specialist doctors, experimental treatments that aren't covered by national health services. We're talking about millions of euros in medical care."
"I need you to dig deeper into the relationship between Cavalieri and the girl," I continued. "Find out the specific terms of their arrangement. Find out what happens if she fails to meet her obligations. Most importantly, find out exactly how Jessica's medical care is structured and what would happen if the funding were suddenly withdrawn."
"That's going to require some delicate maneuvering. The Cavalieri family doesn't leave their private business open to casual investigation."
"Carlo. This is not a casual investigation. This is a matter of family security that requires your most sophisticated approach. Triple rate, as discussed."
"Understood. Anything else?"
"Yes. I want you to start monitoring Jessica's medical situation closely. Her treatment schedule, her doctors' assessments, any changes in her condition or care plan. I want to know about any developments before anyone else does."
After ending the call, I moved to the window and looked out at the darkened grounds of the Montrosso estate. Somewhere in Florence, Aria was probably crying herself to sleep, devastated by her exile from the family that had briefly accepted her.
Tonight's humiliation had been merely the opening gambit in a much larger game. I needed to ensure that she never again posed a threat to my daughter's position, never again caught Antonio's paternal attention, never again had the opportunity to discover the truth about her origins.