Chapter 9 - THE MAN ALEXANDER TRUSTED MOST
Marco admitted sending the box.
But he denied kidnapping Dante.
“You threatened Claire.”
“I brought her back.”
Alexander stared at him.
“That is not better.”
Marco looked ashamed.
“I knew if Dante disappeared, you would need her.”
Claire laughed.
“Need me?”
Marco turned.
“You’re the only person Alexander listens to anymore.”
“That is not my responsibility.”
“I know.”
“Apparently you didn’t.”
Marco had grown terrified watching Alexander dismantle the old organization.
Men were leaving.
Rivals moving in.
Businesses collapsing.
He believed Claire could convince Alexander to stop.
So he manipulated her return.
Not because he hated her.
Because he still believed everyone around Alexander existed to serve the empire.
Alexander looked at his oldest friend.
“You learned nothing.”
Marco’s face tightened.
“I kept you alive for fifteen years.”
“And I’m grateful.”
“You’re throwing everything away.”
“No.”
Alexander looked at me.
Then back at Marco.
“I’m throwing away the part that made us think this was acceptable.”
Marco resigned that night.
He surrendered access.
Later, he cooperated with investigators regarding the threat.
No prison.
But no Moretti power either.
Alexander lost his right hand.
His mother.
His father’s legacy.
Much of his company.
I thought he would collapse.
Instead, he got quieter.
Not colder.
Quieter in a different way.
Like someone hearing himself for the first time.
I returned to Frankfurt.
Months passed.
Alexander and I spoke occasionally.
Mostly about legal matters.
Then, unexpectedly, about ordinary things.
He asked about work.
I asked about Dante’s twins.
He told me Matteo had learned to crawl backward and screamed when anyone tried to correct him.
I laughed.
That was dangerous.
One evening, Alexander called.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever want children?”
My stomach tightened.
“Yes.”
He went silent.
“We never talked about it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because every time I tried, you were busy.”
He closed his eyes on video.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
Then he said:
“I had myself tested.”
I frowned.
“For what?”
“Fertility.”
“Why?”
“Because the IVF contract with Sophia made me wonder why no pregnancy happened during our marriage.”
I stared.
“And?”
“I’m infertile.”
Silence.
“What?”
“Nearly zero viable sperm.”
“But the clinic used your samples.”
“They were mislabeled.”
Another lie.
Another manipulation.
Claire felt cold.
Alexander continued:
“The samples Elena gave Sophia were Dante’s.”
That was how she knew the twins were Moretti blood.
The “agreement” with Alexander had always been theater.
Sophia’s affair with Dante simply made the lie easier.
I sat down.
“So your mother knew you couldn’t father children.”
“Yes.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
I remembered Elena saying I had failed to become pregnant.
All those comments.
All that blame.
She knew.
My anger returned.
Not at Alexander.
At the years I spent quietly wondering whether something was wrong with me.
Then Alexander said:
“There’s something else.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course.”
“My infertility was not natural.”
I went still.
May you like
He looked directly at me.
“My mother caused it.”
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