She Cut My Daughter’s Hair Before Her Wedding—Then My Billionaire Fiancé Made One Promise That Destroyed Her

Adrian Cole arrived at the Moretti estate forty minutes later.

He was in his early forties, with dark hair, a navy suit, and the exhausted appearance of a man who had spent too many nights regretting the decisions that brought him to the present.

Two security guards escorted him into Alessandro's private study.

I sat beside Alessandro while Adrian placed a thick brown folder on the desk.

“I understand this is difficult to believe,” Adrian began.

“But I have no reason to lie to you.””

Alessandro didn't touch the folder.

“Start with your relationship with Bianca.””

Adrian took a breath.

“We were engaged for eleven months. I owned a chain of private medical clinics in Boston. Bianca worked in corporate fundraising when we met.””

“And why did you break up?””

“Because I discovered she had been using my name to obtain loans from people I had never met.””

Alessandro's eyes narrowed.

“Did you report her?””

“I tried. The loans were structured through intermediaries, and the money had been moved through several accounts. By the time my attorneys traced everything, Bianca had convinced the lenders that I had authorized the transactions.””

He opened the folder.

Inside were bank statements, email printouts, and photographs.

“She nearly destroyed my company,” Adrian continued.

“I paid back the lenders to keep my employees from losing their jobs. Then Bianca disappeared.””

“Why didn't you warn me when she became engaged to me?””

“I didn't know about your engagement until three days ago.””

He pulled out a newspaper clipping showing Alessandro and Bianca at a charity gala.

“When I saw this, I contacted your office. Your assistant told me you were unavailable.””

Alessandro's mouth tightened.

“My assistant never mentioned you.””

“I assumed Bianca had made sure my message didn't reach you.””

He slid another document across the desk.

“This is why I came in person.””

The document was a copy of a life insurance policy.

The insured person was Alessandro Moretti.

The beneficiary was Bianca.

I stared at the page.

“How long has this existed?”” I asked.

Adrian shook his head.

“The policy was opened six weeks ago. I found it because Bianca contacted an old financial adviser of mine, asking him how to structure an insurance arrangement for a wealthy spouse.””

Alessandro leaned forward.

“Was the policy legitimate?””

“I don't know. But the signature on the application appears to be forged.””

He placed another sheet on the desk.

A signature analysis report.

The report was preliminary, but it identified several inconsistencies between Alessandro's known signature and the one on the application.

Alessandro's face hardened.

“Who helped her?””

“That's the problem. Bianca never worked alone.””

Adrian removed a photograph from the folder.

It showed Bianca outside a hotel, standing beside a tall man in a gray coat.

I recognized him immediately.

Not because I had met him, but because I had heard Bianca mention his name.

Adrian Cole had already said it.

“Marcus Vane,” I whispered.

Alessandro looked at me.

“You know him?””

“Bianca mentioned him once at dinner. She said he was a financial consultant who helped her family with investments.””

Adrian gave a bitter laugh.

“Marcus isn't a consultant. He's a broker who specializes in moving money through shell companies.””

Alessandro stood.

“Then why was he meeting my fiancée?””

“Because they were working together before she met you.””

The room seemed to shrink around us.

Alessandro turned toward his desk and pressed a button on the intercom.

“Marco, I need every financial transaction connected to Marcus Vane. Start with the companies he registered in the last year.””

“Understood, sir.””

“And nobody allows Bianca to contact the staff or access the house computers.””

He released the button.

Then he looked at Adrian.

“What else?””

Adrian hesitated.

“There is something about your daughter.””

Alessandro's expression changed instantly.

“What?””

“Three weeks ago, Bianca contacted me through an encrypted email account. She asked whether I still had contacts in private residential schools.””

My stomach tightened.

“The boarding facility,” I whispered.

Adrian nodded.

“She wanted information about institutions that accepted children without requiring both parents to sign the paperwork.””

Alessandro's hands curled into fists.

“What did you tell her?””

“I refused. I asked why she was asking about children.””

“And?””

“She said your daughter was becoming difficult.””

The silence was suffocating.

Alessandro moved around the desk.

“Get out.””

Adrian blinked.

“Mr. Moretti—”

“Not you. Her.””

He turned toward the door.

“Marco!””

The security chief entered almost immediately.

“Sir?””

“Bring Bianca here. Now.””

Marco hesitated.

“There's a complication.””

Alessandro's eyes narrowed.

“What complication?””

“Miss Laurent isn't in the bridal suite.””

I felt my heart pound.

“Where is she?””

“We don't know. Her personal assistant says she left to get fresh air, but nobody saw her leave the house.””

Alessandro stared at him.

“You told me the house was secured.””

“It is, sir. Every exit is covered.””

“Then how did she disappear?””

Marco's face tightened.

“We're checking the service corridors.””

Alessandro looked at the photograph of Bianca and Marcus Vane.

“Find her.””

Marco left at once.

I turned toward Adrian.

“Why would Bianca risk everything by leaving now?””

He looked at the folder.

“Because she knows you've found the evidence.””

Alessandro's phone rang.

He answered without taking his eyes off Adrian.

“What?””

A voice spoke rapidly through the receiver.

Alessandro went rigid.

“Repeat that.””

He listened.

Then he slowly lowered the phone.

“What happened?”” I asked.

He looked at me.

“Livia's nanny just called from the children's wing.””

My mouth went dry.

“What about her?””

“Someone entered her room while we were in here.””

I sprang to my feet.

“Is she safe?””

“She was with the nanny in the playroom. But someone searched her bedroom.””

Alessandro rushed toward the door.

I followed, my mind racing.

When we reached Livia's room, Marco was already examining the overturned drawers and scattered toys.

The little pink backpack Livia used for school lay open on the bed.

Her favorite stuffed rabbit had been thrown onto the floor.

I picked it up.

Its seam had been ripped.

Something was missing.

“Her necklace,” I whispered.

Alessandro turned.

“What necklace?””

I looked at him.

“The silver locket you gave her on her sixth birthday. She never takes it off.””

The nanny stepped forward, visibly shaken.

“I put her to bed last night wearing it. I swear I did.””

Marco examined the room.

“There are no signs of forced entry.””

Alessandro's expression darkened.

“Someone had a key.””

I looked at the damaged rabbit.

“Why would they take a child's necklace?””

Adrian had followed us into the room.

He stared at the locket's empty jewelry box on the bedside table.

Then he spoke.

“Because Bianca told me something about that necklace.””

Everyone turned toward him.

“What?”” Alessandro demanded.

Adrian swallowed.

“She once told me she had a way to prove that a child wasn't really related to the man who raised her.””

Alessandro went silent.

Livia had been born during his first marriage. There had never been any public question about her parentage.

“What does that have to do with her necklace?”” I asked.

Adrian shook his head.

“I don't know. But Bianca asked me whether DNA samples could be preserved in jewelry without the owner's knowledge.””

Alessandro's face lost all color.

The locket had been a gift from him.

It contained a tiny photograph of Livia and her father, sealed behind a silver backing.

I remembered the day he gave it to her. Livia had cried with happiness because she believed the necklace meant her father would always be able to find her.

Now it was gone.

Alessandro took out his phone and called the family physician.

“Doctor, I need you at the estate immediately. And bring every medical record you have concerning my daughter.””

He ended the call.

Then he turned to Marco.

“Seal the security room. Nobody deletes a single recording.””

Marco nodded.

Alessandro looked at Adrian.

“Did Bianca ever mention a man named Daniel Moretti?””

Adrian frowned.

“No. Should I know him?””

“Daniel was my younger brother.””