Chapter 1 - The Debt That Forced a Billionaire and an Antique-Shop Girl Into the Most Unlikely Marriage in Knoxville“What loan?”
Meline’s voice was sharper this time.
Carol looked toward the front window.
Outside, Alessandro Vitali’s black SUV waited at the curb.
“He was supposed to leave us alone.”
“Who?”
Carol sank into the chair behind the register.
“Your uncle.”
Meline frowned.
“My uncle has been dead for four years.”
“I know.”
“Then what does Alessandro Vitali have to do with him?”
Carol looked exhausted.
“Everything.”
The answer made no sense.
Meline folded her arms.
“You have ten seconds before I start asking questions you won't like.”
Carol smiled weakly.
“That sounds like your mother.”
The mention of her mother changed Meline’s expression.
Carol noticed.
“I'm sorry.”
“What did my parents have to do with Vitali?”
“Nothing.”
“That wasn't an answer.”
Carol sighed.
“Your father borrowed money.”
“From Alessandro?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“A man named Vincent Moretti.”
Meline searched her memory.
She had heard the name once.
Maybe twice.
Not recently.
Years ago.
Her father had mentioned him during an argument with Carol.
Meline had been seventeen.
She remembered doors slamming.
Her mother crying.
Her father saying they would never work for Vincent again.
Then the accident came.
Three years later, her parents were dead.
The subject had never been discussed again.
Meline slowly lowered herself into the chair opposite Carol.
“How much?”
Carol looked at her.
“Three hundred thousand.”
Meline almost laughed.
“Three hundred thousand dollars?”
“It was less originally.”
“How does a debt become that large?”
“Interest.”
“Illegal interest?”
Carol didn't answer.
Meline pushed her hair away from her face.
“This store isn't worth three hundred thousand.”
“I know.”
“And if Vitali forecloses—”
“He won't.”
Meline looked up.
“Why not?”
Carol reached into the drawer.
She pulled out an envelope.
Inside was an old photograph.
Meline recognized her father immediately.
Beside him stood a younger Alessandro Vitali.
And beside Alessandro stood a third man.
Vincent Moretti.
Meline stared.
“When was this?”
“Six years before your parents died.”
“Why was Alessandro with them?”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
Carol looked away.
“I promised your mother I would never tell you.”
“She's dead.”
“I know.”
“So tell me.”
Carol hesitated.
Then whispered,
“Your father had discovered something about the Vitali family.”
“What?”
“A shipment.”
Meline's brow furrowed.
“What kind of shipment?”
“Antiques.”
“That doesn't sound criminal.”
Carol looked directly at her.
“They were stolen.”
Silence.
Meline slowly placed the photograph down.
“You're telling me Dad was involved in stolen antiques?”
“He wasn't.”
“Then why was he there?”
“He was trying to expose them.”
“Who?”
“Vincent.”
“And Alessandro?”
“He didn't know.”
Meline's stomach twisted.
“Then why is he collecting the debt?”
“Because Vincent signed the papers using your father's name.”
Meline stopped breathing.
“What?”
Carol nodded.
“The loan was secured against this store.”
“That's impossible.”
“I wish it were.”
“Did my father forge it?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Carol's eyes filled with tears.
“I never found out.”
The store bell rang.
Alessandro entered again.
This time he was alone.
Meline stood.
“You're back.”
“I forgot something.”
“What?”
He walked toward her.
“A decision.”
He placed a file on the counter.
Meline opened it.
The papers were legal.
Not threatening.
Worse.
Absolute.
The business was technically in default.
She looked up.
“You want this store.”
“I want what I am owed.”
“There is no way this debt belongs to me.”
“It does now.”
“You can’t just take it.”
“I can.”
She looked at Carol.
“Is there nothing we can do?”
Carol whispered,
“No.”
Meline looked back at Alessandro.
“What if I pay?”
“You have seven days.”
“How much?”
“Three hundred and eighteen thousand, four hundred and twenty dollars.”
She almost laughed.
“You're serious.”
“Yes.”
“I don't have three hundred dollars.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you standing here?”
“Because I came to offer you another option.”
Meline stared.
“What option?”
Alessandro opened another folder.
Marriage papers.
She thought she was hallucinating.
“What is that?”
“A proposal.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“You cannot possibly be serious.”
“My family is arranging a marriage.”
“With someone else?”
“Yes.”
“Then marry her.”
“She doesn't want me.”
“Sounds healthy.”
Alessandro ignored the sarcasm.
“She comes from a family that wants control over a subsidiary I own. If I marry her, I lose control.”
“And somehow I fix that?”
“You marry me.”
Meline stared.
Then laughed.
Actually laughed.
“You came into my shop threatening foreclosure and now you're proposing marriage?”
“It's a business arrangement.”
“To a woman you met ten minutes ago?”
“I knew who you were before I entered.”
Meline's laughter died.
“What does that mean?”
“I have people who investigate everyone connected to my family.”
“Did you investigate me?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“You have no criminal record.”
“Congratulations.”
“You owe fourteen thousand dollars in medical debt.”
Her face hardened.
“How dare you.”
“You volunteer at a shelter every Thursday.”
She said nothing.
“You still have your mother's wedding ring.”
Meline's hand instinctively moved toward her necklace.
“You read my file.”
“Yes.”
“That's creepy.”
“Probably.”
She stared at him.
“Why me?”
He didn't answer immediately.
Then he said,
“Because you're the only person I know who has nothing to gain from my family.”
Meline looked at him.
“And if I say no?”
“I take the store.”
“And if I say yes?”
“The debt disappears.”
She looked at Carol.
Her aunt's eyes were pleading.
Not for herself.
For the store.
For everything Meline's parents had left her.
Meline whispered,
“How long?”
“One year.”
“And after that?”
“The marriage ends.”
“And you give me the store?”
“Yes.”
“Without conditions?”
“No conditions.”
She studied him.
“You're asking me to become your wife for twelve months.”
“Yes.”
“You won't touch me.”
“No.”
“You won't control where I go.”
“No.”
“You won't embarrass me.”
A faint smile appeared.
“I'll try.”
She almost smiled back.
Almost.
“And what do you get?”
“Protection from a marriage I don't want.”
“That sounds too easy.”
“It isn't.”
“What aren't you telling me?”
His eyes hardened.
“My family believes you're connected to Vincent Moretti.”
Meline's blood ran cold.
“I'm not.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because you looked surprised when I mentioned his name.”
She stared.
“You really do study people.”
“I have to.”
She looked at the papers.
Then at the store.
Then at the man standing across from her.
It was absurd.
Dangerous.
Maybe insane.
But losing the store would mean losing the final piece of her parents.
Meline picked up the pen.
“Fine.”
Alessandro's eyebrow lifted.
“Fine?”
“One year.”
He extended his hand.
“Agreed.”
She shook it.
His palm was warm.
For one second, neither moved.
Then Alessandro released her.
“Wedding is Friday.”
Meline blinked.
“Friday?”
“Three days.”
“You are insane.”
“So I've been told.”
He walked toward the door.
Meline called after him.
“Mr. Vitali.”
He stopped.
“You said you wouldn't touch me.”
“I won't.”
“You said you wouldn't control me.”
“I won't.”
“Then why do I have the feeling I just made the worst decision of my life?”
Alessandro looked back.
“Because you probably did.”
The bell above the door rang.
Then he was gone.
That night, Meline stared at the marriage contract until two in the morning.
She kept telling herself it was temporary.
A business arrangement.
One year.
Nothing more.
But she could not stop remembering the way Alessandro had looked at her.
Not like a billionaire looking at an employee.
Not like a man evaluating an asset.
Like a man who already knew she was about to become important.
She didn't know why.
She didn't know how.
And she definitely didn't know that seven months later, she would wake up in a hospital bed while Alessandro screamed at doctors to save her.
May you like
She didn't know that her mysterious morning sickness would be the first clue that their marriage had been built on a lie.
And she absolutely did not know that the person who arranged the marriage had expected her to die before the year was over.
Related Stories
