CHAPTER 9

Matteo's empire was a machine.

Ruthless. Precise. Unstoppable.

And at the very center of it, ensuring every cog turned flawlessly, was Isabella.

For seven years, she had been his silent right hand.

More than just an assistant—a gatekeeper.

She knew every schedule before it was set, every deal before it was inked.

She filtered what mattered from what was irrelevant.

If Matteo was the emperor, Isabella was the guardian of the throne.

But now?

The guardian was slipping.

At first, the mistakes were small.

A meeting scheduled an hour late.

A phone call forgotten.

A critical report misplaced.

Matteo barely noticed.

Sasha did.

And she made sure everyone else did too.

"I think Isabella is overwhelmed," Sasha mused one afternoon, casually flipping through reports as she sat among Matteo's executives.

Her voice was soft, unassuming. A comment dropped like a stone into still water.

"Pregnancy does that to people. So much on her mind... it must be hard to focus."

Not loud enough for Matteo to hear.

It didn't need to be.

Within days, the whispers began.

"Did you see the mix-up with the shipment logs? Isabella completely fumbled it."

"She's been with Matteo too long—maybe she's too comfortable."

"She used to be sharp. Now? She's slipping."

Sasha didn't have to plant the doubt herself.

She simply let it grow.

But whispers weren't enough.

Matteo had to see it.

So the errors grew.

A wrong address slipped into an important memo.

A meeting rescheduled to the wrong day, leaving Matteo waiting—alone, furious—while his contacts wondered if he'd blown them off.

A financial report with miscalculations, forcing Matteo's investors to question if he was losing control of his empire.

Each mistake looked like Isabella's fault.

And yet, it wasn't Isabella making them.

It was Sasha.

Thread by thread, she was unspooling the web Isabella had spent years weaving.

Until, finally—the perfect strike.

It happened on a Tuesday night.

Matteo was expecting a call from Moscow—a deal worth millions hung in the balance.

The time was set. The terms were negotiated.

All that was left was the call.

It never came.

Because, according to Isabella's notes?

The call was scheduled for the next day.

When Matteo realized the mistake, something inside him snapped.

His voice was razor-sharp, cutting through the office like a blade.

"How the f* does a mistake like this happen?"*

Isabella, pale, exhausted, scrambled for words.

"I—I don't know. I could have sworn—"

"Sworn what, Isabella? That I just lost a seven-figure deal because you can't read a f*ing calendar?"

Silence.

Tension.

Then—the final blow.

"Maybe you need to take some time off."

Everyone in the room froze.

They knew what that meant.

She was finished.

Officially?

It was a leave of absence. After all, she was heavily pregnant—she needed rest.

Unofficially?

Everyone knew the truth.

She wasn't coming back.

Matteo needed someone sharp.

Someone who wouldn't make mistakes.

So he hired Andrea Romano.

Young. Efficient. Brilliant.

A background in finance. Experience in high-pressure environments.

The perfect choice.