Chapter 1 - THE SOUND OF THE CLIPPERS
The first thing Alessandro heard was not his daughter screaming.
It was the clippers.
That ugly electric buzz cut through the quiet hallway of the Bellmont Estate like something alive.
Then came the cry.
“Daddy!”
Alessandro stopped dead.
He had been halfway to the west terrace, jacket over one arm, phone in his hand, trying to deal with a last-minute call from the wedding coordinator.
“Daddy! Daddy!”
Livia.
His eight-year-old daughter.
Alessandro dropped the phone.
He ran.
Inside the bridal suite, Bianca had one fist wrapped around Livia’s shoulder and a pair of electric clippers pressed against the side of the little girl’s head.
A thick sheet of dark brown hair slid down Livia’s white flower-girl dress and hit the marble floor.
Livia recoiled.
“No!”
Rosalie shoved herself between them.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Bianca looked annoyed, not ashamed.
“Oh, stop being dramatic.”
Rosalie stared at the bald stripe running above Livia’s ear.
“You shaved her hair!”
“It’ll grow back.”
Livia’s face crumpled.
“I told you no.”
Bianca lifted the clippers again.
“Hold still. Now I have to even it out.”
Rosalie blocked her.
“Put those down.”
Bianca’s eyes hardened.
“I trim my dog’s fur all the time. I know what I’m doing.”
That was when Alessandro entered.
The room froze.
He saw Livia trembling behind Rosalie.
He saw the hair on the floor.
He saw Bianca holding the clippers.
And then Livia looked at him.
“Daddy…”
Something inside him snapped.
Bianca took one step toward Livia.
Alessandro crossed the room in three strides, tore the clippers from Bianca’s hand, and pulled his daughter behind him.
“Don’t touch her.”
Bianca blinked.
“Alessandro, calm down. She ruined the style I planned for the pictures.”
His face changed.
Not anger.
Something colder.
“You cut my daughter’s hair for wedding pictures?”
“She was being difficult.”
Livia clutched the back of his shirt.
“I said I didn’t want it, Daddy.”
Alessandro looked at Bianca for a long second.
Then he slammed the clippers onto the bridal vanity.
Bottles jumped.
Lipsticks rolled onto the floor.
A glass perfume bottle shattered.
“Touch my daughter again,” he said quietly, “and this wedding is over.”
Bianca stared at him.
Then she laughed.
A small, disbelieving laugh.
“You’re not serious.”
Alessandro turned toward her.
“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
Her smile vanished.
May you like
And from the open doorway, Bianca’s mother whispered the four words that changed everything.
“Don’t tell him why.”
