What happens when Italy's most powerful billionaire, Alessandro Romano, discovers that he has been duped by Viktor Petrov, a Russian businessman who extorted billions of dollars from him? How does he react when he learns that the man is dead, depriving him of any chance of revenge and getting his money back? Cold and implacable, Alessandro has never forgiven the betrayal, but could this situation push him to extremes he never imagined? As he prepares to give up all hope of reparation, his personal detective uncovers a detail that turns everything upside down: Viktor's only daughter, Sofia. Could this young woman become his instrument of revenge? If Alessandro refuses to get attached, can he really remain indifferent to the one who has nothing to do with his father's crimes? Will he decide to use her to recoup the debt his father owes him, despite the dark secrets and unexpected obstacles that stand in his way? And even when he discovers that she is pregnant with another man's child, is he willing to ignore this crucial detail? As for Sofia, how far will she go to free herself from the chains of the past and escape Alessandro's machinations? And as she fights for her freedom, how far will Alessandro go to finally win her heart while satisfying his thirst for revenge? The stakes couldn't be higher. Who will win in this dangerous game where love and betrayal intertwine?
Chapter 1 Chapitre 1
Alessandro Romano stood before the vast glass windows of his office, looking down on Milan as a king looks down on his kingdom. The city below, bathed in a cold, unforgiving winter light, seemed to bend to his will. He clutched a glass of Scotch between his fingers, his knuckles white with suppressed rage. Viktor Petrov's death was not news he had anticipated. It was not a relief, nor a conclusion. It was an escape, a cowardly and vile way out that Petrov had granted himself without his consent.
The phone on his desk vibrated, a quiet but commanding sound in the silent room. Alessandro set down his glass with mechanical precision before answering.
"I'm here," he said, his voice low and hoarse, like a blade sliding against a stone.
Carlo's voice, his personal detective, rang out on the other end of the line. "He's dead, Alessandro. A car accident on an icy road near St. Petersburg."
Alessandro closed his eyes. Viktor Petrov, the Russian snake, the man who had extorted billions from him and ridiculed his name in some financial circles, was dead. Not by his hands. Not as he had imagined. Not with the slow agony he deserved.
"And the rest?" Alessandro asked, controlling the growl in his voice.
Carlo hesitated. "There is... something else. Petrov had a daughter. Sofia Petrov. An heiress, if you will. She lives in London. Discreet. No involvement in her father's business."
A girl. Alessandro let that information sink in. He had never heard of a Sofia Petrov, and for good reason. Viktor had kept his private life hermetically sealed. A hidden asset. But an asset that could now serve Alessandro well.
"Find out everything you can on her. Age, social circle, vulnerabilities. I want a complete file by the end of the week," he ordered, already building scenarios in his mind.
"It's already done," Carlo replied. "I'll send you everything in an hour. But I must warn you, Alessandro. She is not Viktor. She has a modest life, almost... insignificant."
"No one is insignificant," Alessandro replied, hanging up.
He stood there for a few moments, his hands pressed against the edge of his desk. The information was distilling into him, cold and methodical. Sofia Petrov. That name would become his key. Viktor might be out of his reach, but this girl... she could become the catalyst for his revenge.
An hour later, the file arrived in his inbox. He opened it, his eyes scanning the lines with calculated attention. Sofia Petrov, 27, a visual arts graduate, worked as a curator at a small independent gallery in London. No lavish properties, no suspicious bank accounts, nothing that directly linked her to her father's crimes. She seemed intent on distancing herself from her legacy, unless she was a talented actress in this staging of banality.
But what caught Alessandro's eye was her photo. A blurry image from a recent event, a shy smile and a glint in her eyes, something profoundly different from Viktor's cold arrogance. She was pretty, with a grace that seemed almost out of place in the world Alessandro knew.
The next day he summoned Carlo to his office.
"I want to meet her," Alessandro said without preamble.
Carlo frowned. "Do you really think she's a viable target? She probably doesn't know anything about her father's business."
"It's not what she knows that interests me," Alessandro replied, fixing Carlo with his piercing gaze. "It's what she can become. A tool. A weakness. A debt. Viktor may have thought he could die taking everything with him, but he left a piece on the chessboard."
Carlo nodded, but his expression betrayed reserve. Alessandro ignored him. The man didn't need to understand his vision, only execute it.
A few days later he found himself in London, in a small gallery nestled in the heart of a bohemian neighborhood. The place was charming, but modest. Nothing that would have suggested the shadow of Viktor Petrov. Alessandro entered, his elegant and dominant appearance immediately attracting the attention of the few visitors present.
Sofia stood there, concentrating on a piece of art she was hanging on the wall. Alessandro stopped, observing her without hiding. He noted the way she bent her head slightly in thought, the fluid movement of her hands. She had none of her father's calculating coldness.
When she turned around, their eyes met. A spark of surprise flashed in her eyes, but she quickly pulled herself together, flashing a polite smile.
"Hello. Can I help you?" she asked, her voice soft but confident.
Alessandro approached slowly, savoring the moment. "Maybe. I was looking for something inspiring, and this place was recommended to me."
Sofia gave a slight, genuine laugh. "Well, I hope we don't disappoint."
He spent several minutes examining the works, playing the role of the interested but difficult to impress customer. She finally approached, a mixture of curiosity and professionalism in her demeanor.
"If I may, you seem to have a critical eye," she said.
"I'd say demanding," he corrected, a smirk. "But there's something here... a certain charm. Understated but captivating. Like this room, for example."
He pointed to an abstract painting, and Sofia grew animated as she explained the story behind the work. Alessandro listened, but he was far more interested in the way she spoke, her obvious passion for her work. She was a fascinating paradox: simple yet magnetic, far removed from anything he had imagined.
When she finished, he pretended to hesitate before asking: "And you, have you created something?"
She shook her head, smiling. "No, I'm much better at highlighting other people's talents."
He nodded, hiding his satisfaction. She underestimated herself, a weakness he could exploit.
"I'll take this piece," he said, pointing to the painting she had explained.
Sofia looked surprised. "Really? That's an excellent choice. I'll prepare the documents."
As she walked away, Alessandro followed her with his eyes. He knew he had just laid the first stone of his plan. Sofia Petrov was completely unsuspecting, and that was exactly what made her perfect for what he had in mind. But as he watched her interact with another customer, an unexpected thought crossed his mind. Was she as innocent as she seemed, or was she hiding a dark side inherited from Viktor?
Alessandro wasn't one to let his emotions interfere with his plans, but this time, a strange feeling of uncertainty crept into him. And he hated it.
When she returned with the papers, he thanked her with a courtesy that he knew would have seemed sincere. Then he left, his mind already weaving the next step.
Revenge was a work of art, and Sofia Petrov was about to become its unwitting muse.
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