Chapter 99

Chapter 99
Benedetta’s POV
The morning air was crisp as I walked through the hospital corridors, my designer handbag clutched firmly in my manicured hands. Sant'Anna Hospital wasn't the kind of place someone of my status usually visited, but desperate times called for calculated measures.
Jessica. The little orphan girl who held Aria's heart in her fragile hands.
I'd done my research thoroughly. Everyone had a weakness. And Jessica was Aria's.
I approached the nurses' station with the practiced smile I'd perfected over thirty years of serving the Montrosso family. Sweet, concerned, just the right amount of worry to seem genuine.
"Excuse me," I said to the young nurse behind the counter. "I'm here to check on Jessica. I'm a family friend."
The nurse looked up from her charts. "Room 314. But visiting hours don't start until—"
"I'm actually hoping to speak with her doctor first," I interrupted gently. "I wanted to understand her current condition better. We're all so worried about the sweet girl."
The lie rolled off my tongue easily. After three decades of managing the Montrosso household's secrets, deception had become second nature.
"Dr. Martinez should be making his rounds soon. You can wait in the family consultation room if you'd like."
Twenty minutes later, Dr. Martinez appeared—a middle-aged man with tired eyes and the slightly frazzled look of someone dealing with too many hopeless cases.
"You're here about Jessica?" he asked, settling into the chair across from me.
"Yes, doctor. I'm Benedetta Russo, a close family friend. We're all so concerned about her condition." I leaned forward slightly, projecting the kind of maternal worry that always worked on medical professionals. "How is she responding to treatment?"
Dr. Martinez's expression grew serious. "Jessica is a fighter, but I won't lie to you—her case is complicated. The treatment protocol we're using is aggressive, and her body has been... resistant to some of the medications."
"What does that mean for her long-term prognosis?"
"With consistent treatment and proper funding for the more advanced therapies, her chances are good. But..." He hesitated, clearly weighing his words. "The cost is significant. Especially in the later stage of kidney transplantation."
"How much are we talking about?" I asked, as if I were genuinely considering helping.
"The current treatment plan runs about thirty thousand euros over the next six months. But if we need a kidney transplant..." He shrugged helplessly. "Significantly more."
Thirty thousand euros. For someone like Aria, it might as well be thirty million. Even with Damian's current support, medical bills had a way of becoming burdensome. All it would take was the right pressure, the right crisis of confidence, and that support could evaporate.
"And if the funding were to... stop?" I asked carefully.
Dr. Martinez's face darkened. "We'd have to move her to palliative care. Make her comfortable, but..." Another shrug. "Children her age don't last long without aggressive treatment."
Jessica was entirely dependent on external funding. Remove the money, and the girl would die. And with her, Aria's will to fight would crumble.
"Thank you for being so honest, doctor," I said, rising from my chair. "It helps to understand what we're dealing with."
"Are you considering helping with the financial aspect?" he asked hopefully.
I smiled sadly. "I'll need to discuss it with my family. You understand."
Jessica's room was small and sterile, filled with the quiet hum of medical equipment. The girl herself was awake, reading a worn paperback book. She looked up when I entered, her large eyes curious but not alarmed.
So young. Pale from the treatment, but with an alertness that spoke to intelligence. No wonder Aria was so attached to her.
"Hello, Jessica," I said softly, approaching her bed. "I'm Benedetta. We met last time. I'm a friend of Aria's."
The girl's face immediately brightened. " How is she? She hasn't been able to visit much lately."
Hasn't been able to visit. Because Damian had been keeping her locked away, no doubt. But Jessica didn't seem to know that.
"That's actually why I'm here," I said, settling into the visitor's chair. "Aria has been... having some difficulties lately. I wanted to make sure you were being taken care of."
Jessica's expression shifted to concern. "What kind of difficulties? Is she okay?"
I let worry creep into my voice. "There have been some accusations made against her. Serious ones. She's been staying with a wealthy family, but now..." I trailed off, as if reluctant to continue.
"What kind of accusations?" Jessica's voice was sharp with fear.
"Theft," I said simply. "From a very important family. Even if the charges don't stick, her reputation is... damaged. The family she's been living with might not want to support her anymore."
The color drained from Jessica's already pale face. "But she didn't steal anything. Aria would never—"
"I believe you, dear. But sometimes what we know to be true doesn't matter when powerful people have made up their minds." I reached over and patted her hand gently. "I'm sure everything will work out, but I wanted you to know that if her situation changes, if she can't... well, if she needs help, you should call me."
I placed a business card on her bedside table. A fake number, of course, but she didn't need to know that.
"Does Aria have other support?" I asked carefully. "The family she's been staying with—are they likely to stand by her?"
Jessica looked confused. "I don't know much about them. She never talks about her living situation. I always assumed she was just working for some rich people."
Jessica had no idea about Damian, about the marriage contract, about any of it. To her, Aria was still just a struggling orphan trying to make ends meet.
"Well, I'm sure she'll figure something out," I said, standing up. "You focus on getting better, sweet girl. Aria needs you to be strong."
Jessica nodded, but I could see the worry taking root in her eyes.
As I walked back down the hospital corridor, I stopped at the nurses' station one more time.
"Excuse me," I said to the same young nurse. "I noticed there might be some confusion about Jessica Moretti's billing situation. I wanted to make sure there weren't any problems with her treatment."
The nurse looked puzzled. "I'm not showing any issues with her account."
"Oh, good," I said, pulling a folded paper from my purse. "I thought I saw this notice on her door, but perhaps it was for another patient."
I showed her the document I'd prepared earlier—an official-looking billing notice with the hospital's letterhead, carefully forged. It demanded payment of outstanding fees within one week or treatment would be suspended.
"That's definitely not from us," the nurse said, examining it. "Our billing department would never leave notices like this on patient doors."
"How strange," I mused. "Well, perhaps someone was just confused. Should I dispose of it?"
"Oh, you can just leave it here. I'll make sure it gets to the right department."
Instead, I walked back toward Jessica's room and casually dropped the notice by her door, as if it had simply fallen off. Some well-meaning visitor or staff member would surely bring it to her attention soon enough.
The notice was carefully worded—official enough to seem real, urgent enough to cause panic, but vague enough that any attempts to verify it would be met with confusion from the actual billing department. By the time Jessica or Aria figured out it was fake, the psychological damage would be done.

The drive back to the Montrosso estate gave me time to savor my morning's work. Phase one was complete. Jessica now had fresh doubts about Aria's situation, and a ticking clock had been placed on the girl's treatment—at least in her mind.
I found Adriana in the sunroom, sipping her morning coffee and scrolling through her phone. She looked up when I entered, her expression eager.
"Well?" she asked immediately. "How did it go?"
I settled into the chair across from her, allowing a small smile to play at my lips. "Very well. Better than expected, actually."
"Tell me everything."
"The girl—Jessica—she's completely dependent on Aria emotionally. More than we realized. And financially, her situation is precarious. The medical bills are substantial."
Adriana leaned forward. "And Aria?"
"Here's the interesting part," I said, letting satisfaction color my voice. "The theft accusation has shaken Damian's family's confidence in her. There are rumors that his support might be wavering."
It was a complete lie, of course. From what I'd observed, Damian seemed more protective of Aria than ever. But Adriana didn't need to know that.
"Really?" Adriana's eyes lit up with hope.
"The scandal has damaged her reputation significantly. Even if she's cleared of the actual charges, the whispers will follow her everywhere. And men like Damian..." I shrugged. "They don't like to be associated with controversy."
Adriana practically bounced in her chair. "So she might actually lose his protection?"
"It's possible," I said carefully. "Though we shouldn't rely on it happening naturally. Sometimes these things need... encouragement."
"What do you mean?"
I took a sip of my coffee, letting the moment build. "I mean that Aria's reputation could become even more damaged if the right stories started circulating. If people began to see her as not just a thief, but as manipulative, desperate, willing to do anything for money..."
"You think we should spread more rumors?"
"I think," I said slowly, "that we should consolidate her negative image. Make sure that even if she's technically cleared of the theft, no one in our circles will ever truly trust her again."
Adriana was nodding eagerly now. "Yes. Yes, that's perfect. Damian might keep her around for a while out of some misguided sense of obligation, but eventually he'll get tired of the embarrassment."
"Exactly," I agreed. "And when that happens, when she loses his protection and has nowhere else to turn..." I smiled. "Well, people in desperate situations make poor decisions. And poor decisions have consequences."