Mr. Villain's Lovely Wife

Lovely wife 214

He's Not Alone

The hotel room was quiet, save for the low hum of the television mounted on the far wall. Izzy stood by the window, sipping lukewarm tea, her coat still draped over one arm. She had left the channel on out of habit, not expectation-but the moment the newscaster mentioned her name, she turned.

"...and in breaking headlines, the legal representatives of socialite and Rossi Group heiress Isabella Rossi have declined further comment on her whereabouts, prompting a public reaction from Amalia-former guardian and family trustee. Our team caught up with her outside a law office in Milan earlier today."

The screen shifted to a scene outside a stone building where Amalia, dressed in black with her pearl necklace glinting in the afternoon light, faced a crowd of reporters. Her lips moved quickly, hands gesturing as microphones were shoved toward her.

"I raised her,” Amalia said, her tone clipped. "Her parents were gone. I was the one who managed her estate, her tutors, and her education. Now she's had an accident, and they won't even let me speak to her? Her lawyers are shutting everyone out. Why? What are they hiding?"

A reporter leaned in. "Have you spoken to anyone from the Rossi legal team directly?"

"I've filed requests. I've made calls. All I get is silence. Isabella was like a daughter to me. And now? Locked doors. Lawyers. Security. I deserve to know she's alright. The public deserves to know."

Izzy took another sip of tea and snorted. "Since when did I become a national headline?"

The camera cut back to the anchor, seated in the studio. A photo of Izzy flashed beside her-an old one, from a charity gala two years ago. "The Rossi legal team has yet to issue a public response, though insiders say the heiress is recovering in private under high security after a targeted vehicular incident last week. The question now- why the secrecy? And what does this mean for the future of Rossi Group?"

-Izzy sat down on the edge of the bed and set her cup on the nightstand.

"She wants camera time," she muttered. "That's all it ever was with her." Obviously, Izzy knew that Amalia also wanted access to her trust. Maria had been updating her about these people.

She picked up the remote and muted the screen, watching as Amalia's dramatics continued in silence. She leaned back, shaking her head.

"I almost die," she said to no one, "and somehow the headline is about her feelings."

There was a knock, and Izzy got up to check who it was. Seeing that it was Mondo, she opened it and walked back toward her bed. The door clicked open behind her. Mondo stepped in without saying anything and locked it again.

"You saw the news?" she asked.

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He's Not Alone

"I did."

arms. "Think she'll sue my

didn't blink. "She

looked back

turned toward him. "Let me guess..." she smiled. “He

we let you leave without

told him where I'm

an answer, but he didn't need

with Liam. She sighed

the thing that I

the only thing that I could find." Mondo handed

took the tablet from Mondo and sat back on the bed, dragging her finger across the

Mondo to get her two things. First was the information about the

She skimmed most of it, stopping only when her eyes caught a string of irregular transfers dated just a

Too convenient, she thought.

at the end. The thoracic aortic aneurysm had been sudden, but the stress levels recorded days before the incident didn't match someone just suffering from overwork. Izzy tilted her head. Between the board pressure, the sudden rise of opposition, and now this health emergency... it

all of it felt too perfectly timed. Like everything unraveled just as she reentered Liam's world. She

next page, Mondo's phone rang. He stepped aside, checked the

Ineed to

nodded, still scanning

the

refocus when something on the muted

eye.

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He's Not Alone

familiar image-Liam's face. Her brows pulled together. She

acting head of Horvath Holdings, was seen leaving the company's New York

by local police, his coat still

complaint filed by actress Cassandra Sarano, who previously had a private working relationship with

stood from the bed, the tablet forgotten beside