Chapter 2: The Secret Behind the Smile
The object in Bianca’s hand was a small envelope.
She stood in the doorway, no longer looking like the woman who had just been caught hurting my son.
She looked calm.
Too calm.
“Before you walk out,” she said, “you should know something.””
I tightened my grip around Livia.
“Not now.””
But Bianca shook her head.
“No. You need to hear this.””
Livia buried his face against my shoulder.
I hated that he was still afraid.
I hated that he was afraid inside his own home.
“What is that?”” I asked.
Bianca glanced at the envelope.
“Something I found while organizing your office.””
My expression changed.
“You went through my office?””
She ignored the question.
“You always thought you knew everything about your life, Alessandro. You don’t.””
I stepped closer.
“Give me the envelope.””
She smiled slightly.
That smile made my skin crawl.
A week ago, I would have called it confidence.
Now I recognized it as control.
“You’re really going to throw away our wedding over a haircut?””
I looked at her.
“It wasn’t a haircut.””
Her smile faded.
“It was hair.””
“No.””
My voice became colder.
“It was my son crying for help.””
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Bianca sighed.
“You’re choosing a child’s tantrum over me?””
I stared at her.
That sentence told me everything.
She didn’t understand.
She never understood.
Livia wasn’t competing with her.
He was my responsibility.
My promise.
My family.
I reached for the envelope.
But Bianca pulled it back.
“Not until you listen.””
“Bianca.””
“There are things you don’t know about your son.””
My heart stopped.
“What does that mean?””
She looked toward Livia.
And for the first time, I saw something different in her eyes.
Not anger.
Fear.
“Your son has been hiding something from you.””
I felt my jaw tighten.
“What are you talking about?””
Bianca lowered her voice.
“He knows more than you think.””
I almost laughed.
Livia was three years old.
He loved cartoons, bedtime stories, and building towers with wooden blocks.
He didn’t have secrets.
But then I remembered something.
The past few weeks, Livia had become quieter whenever Bianca entered the room.
He stopped asking her to read bedtime stories.
He stopped running toward her when she came home.
I told myself it was just a phase.
Maybe it wasn’t.
“What did you do?”” I asked.
Bianca’s eyes flashed.
“I did nothing.””
“Then why is he afraid of you?””
She looked away.
That one second was enough.
I saw it.
The hesitation.
The guilt.
Before she could answer, my phone rang.
I looked down.
It was a number I didn’t recognize.
Normally, I would ignore it.
But something made me answer.
“Hello?””
For several seconds, there was only silence.
Then a woman’s voice spoke.
“Is this Alessandro?””
“Yes. Who is this?””
The woman took a shaky breath.
“My name is Clara. I used to work at your house.””
I frowned.
“I don’t know anyone named Clara.””
“I know. That’s why I called from another number.””
I looked at Bianca.
Her face had gone pale.
“Why are you calling me?””
The woman’s voice dropped.
“Because I saw what happened with Livia.””
My hand tightened around the phone.
“What happened?””
A pause.
Then she whispered:
“Your son has been trying to tell you for weeks.””
I looked at Bianca.
She was no longer pretending to be calm.
“Alessandro, don’t listen to her,” Bianca said quickly.
The voice on the phone continued.
“She wasn’t just cutting his hair.””
My chest tightened.
“What are you saying?””
Another pause.
Then Clara said the words that changed everything.
“There’s a reason Livia stopped wanting to be alone with your fiancée.””
The hallway suddenly felt smaller.
I looked at my frightened son.
Then at the woman I almost married.
And I realized the wedding wasn’t the only thing falling apart.
May you like
Because Bianca wasn’t just hiding what she did that afternoon.
She was hiding what happened before.
