Chapter 118: The son of Alessio Messina seeks revenge

**ALESSANDRO BIANCHI MESSINA’S POV**

My eyes can't seem to look away from the woman who caused all the misery in my father's life. Giullia Santori made beloved Vittorio kill Carlo and then poisoned my father. I was thirty when he was killed, living in the United States, and only received the news of his death. I swore before Alessio Messina's grave that I would avenge his death, caused by a coward.

I'm watching Vittorio's every move, as well as Giullia's. To my dismay, I couldn't take my eyes off her, captivated like a siren luring fishermen at sea. She's enchanting, and I feel tempted to have her for myself, even by force. It would be a great revenge.

"Sir, what you're doing is dangerous. DOM Cassini might find out you're pretending to be a real estate agent," my security advisor cautions.

"Cassini is an idiot, can't see an inch in front of his nose. He doesn't know of my existence and will make countless assumptions, but he won't find out it's me orchestrating all this," I roll my eyes and get into the car.

"What will you do with the girl?" He asks, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

"I'll assess, maybe I can take advantage of this situation. She's charming, would love to have her in my bed," I say, looking out the window and chuckling to myself, imagining Giullia naked.

We ride in silence until we reach my house. The men follow me to the conference room and sit in chairs scattered around the table. I remain silent, analyzing recent events while they look at me attentively.

"Besides a stupid engagement proposal, what did Cassini do during the trip to Italy?" I ask, compiling information to determine my course of action.

"He met with the Leader of France, but we couldn't get information about their conversation. He also took his son to a car show and returned," one of the men reports.

"Regarding the attack on the shipment, what did the police do about it?" I inquire, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag.

"Cassini has agreements with the Italian police. They're unlikely to do anything, but I heard he's meeting with the chief soon," they inform me once more.

It's expected that he has agreements with the police, just like my father did when he was alive. But if the attacks escalate, he might lose control of the situation. The downside is that I might end up being discovered, as Vittorio works with skilled investigators. My steps must be slow, just like his, who took years orchestrating a cowardly plan against my father.

"You're dismissed," I inform them, and they stand up and leave the room.

To achieve something, I should bring in an ally who holds significance in Vittorio and Giullia's lives. I thought of Gian, who was sidelined after she abandoned him with Vittorio's arrival. It could be a smart move, but I could also risk my plans falling apart and him running to inform me about my existence.

I won't think about that now, just make plans and get as close to her as possible. It would be a great revenge to take his woman for myself, even by force.

My phone rings, and I look at the device on the table, grinning broadly when I see Giullia's number on the screen. This is good, great!

"Hello, Miss Santori."

_"Hello, Mr. Bianchi. I'd like to inform you that my parents have chosen the first house you presented to us. We need to meet to finalize the purchase and discuss some necessary changes."_ She speaks, always polite and direct.

"I'm very glad, Miss. Tomorrow afternoon, I'll be at the house, ready to close the deal."

She confirms and hangs up after a formal goodbye. I lean back in my chair, laughing out loud, content with this achievement. I'll be closer to them, closer and closer, and soon I'll achieve my goals.

__________________________

**GIULLIA SANTORI’S POV

I sit on a bench in the garden of the house where we are currently living. Luca sits in front of me, looking down and avoiding eye contact; I know he's ashamed of what happened.

"Son, can you tell me what happened? You've never been involved in any trouble before," I try to start the dialogue with understanding and calmness.

"He kept teasing me, saying I don't have a dad. I do have a dad, he's cool. No one can call me a fatherless boy again," Luca reveals, feeling upset.

I take a deep breath, feeling sad about his revelation. I've always known that he struggles with these kinds of attacks at school; I used to go there and talk to principals and supervisors, but when it comes to kids, it can be uncontrollable.

"Son, let them say what they want. What matters is, your dad came back, he's here, and no one can say otherwise," I stroke my son's hair.

"When Dad came to pick me up in that super cool car, everyone was looking at me. It was so cool!" Luca smiles widely, showing excitement as he recalls.

"See? Everyone saw that you have a dad, you even made a friend like Bella, Adelyn who is nice, and your grandparents who love you very much. Let them talk; only we know how much love there is." I advise, opening my arms for a hug.

"You're right, Mom. I promise it won't happen again," he hugs me tightly.

I kiss my son's hair and breathe a sigh of relief hearing his promise. We hug for a while, and then I let Luca go back to the lawn.

Before going inside, I ask Adellyn to make him take a bath and have something to eat. I enter the house and don't see Vittorio; I also won't look for him. I go to our room to take a shower, but before that, I call Alessandro and inform him about the house chosen by my parents.

After hanging up the phone, I look back and see Vittorio standing there, hands on his hips.

"You called that man?" He takes a deep breath.

"What's the problem, Vittorio? He's handling the sale of the house. I don't understand you; after all these years, you've decided to become jealous?"

Vittorio runs his hands through his hair and takes a deep breath, seemingly trying to keep calm, and starts unbuttoning the shirt he's wearing. His chest and defined abdomen, filled with scars, start to show. He manages to be handsome even when he's angry.

"I don't like that guy!" He asserts, heading to the bathroom.

"You don't even know him," I roll my eyes.

"It doesn't matter!" He says, closing the bathroom door.

I sit on the bed, taking deep breaths and looking at the ceiling. I imagine that from now on, buying this house will give me a lot of headaches.