My Fiancé Swapped Places With His Twin At The Altar Chapter 04
The next morning, the entire Moretti family was at breakfast.
Mr. Moretti set down his knife and fork. “I’ve decided to give Matteo control of the company, along with primary beneficiary rights to the family trust.”
No one at the table looked surprised.
Isabella smiled as she cut Ashley’s pancakes.
“You’ll be the lady of the Moretti house from now on. Be a good wife to Matteo.”
Ashley lowered her head. “I will, Mom.”
Then Mr. Moretti turned to Alessio, his tone dismissive.
“You’re going to the European branch.”
My hand froze around my coffee cup.
I’d heard of that branch. It had been losing money for years. Anyone sent there was being sent to clean up a mess.
Alessio barely reacted. “All right.”
Ashley looked at me, her voice soft and concerned.
“Bianca’s never known hardship. If she goes to Europe with him, will she be able to adjust?”
Matteo’s smile was cold.
“She made her choice.”
He was looking right at me when he said it.
There was mockery at the corner of his mouth, but something else, something I couldn’t read, was buried deep in his eyes.
Ashley suddenly stood and came over with a cup of hot milk.
She bent close to my ear and whispered, so only I could hear, “Bianca, let me tell you a secret. The man you married isn’t Matteo.”
“The real Matteo—and the future of the Moretti family—are mine now.”
“All you get to do is follow a discarded man to Europe.”
“From the day we were born, you’ve never won. Not once.”
I looked up at her, feeling only a deep weariness.
Before, I would have been angry. Bitter. Desperate to prove that I was worthy of being loved.
Now, all of it just felt exhausting.
Before I could say anything, Ashley poured the hot milk over the back of her own hand.
Her eyes reddened, and her voice began to shake.
“Bianca, I was only trying to remind you that Europe is different and you should take care of yourself. How could you…”
She hadn’t even finished speaking when Matteo shot to his feet.
Without a second thought, he grabbed the cup of scalding coffee beside him and threw it in my face.
Searing heat cascaded over me.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Matteo’s chest heaved.
For a second, he looked as if he’d just realized what he’d done.
But he quickly hardened his expression, his voice cold. “You can’t get what you want, so you take it out on Ashley. Bianca, you’ve lost all sense of decency.”
Isabella fussed over Ashley, her face a mask of concern.
Mr. Moretti told the butler to fetch the burn ointment.
Within minutes, the dining room was empty except for me and Alessio.
He picked up a napkin and gently wiped the coffee from my face.
“Does it hurt?” he asked quietly.
I shook my head.
It did.
But after a certain amount of pain, you just go numb.
Alessio looked at the now-empty dining room. “I don’t care about the things this family values,” he said suddenly.
I looked up at him.
“They think sending me to Europe is saddling me with a burden.”
“But what they don’t know is that I’ve had my own interests in Europe for a long time.”
“I hold seats on the boards of several Wall Street hedge funds.”
“A number of their core European projects have to go through me. The annual asset report from that private bank in Zurich is sent directly to my desk.”
“The connections they’ve always wanted—I’m already on the inside.”
He paused.
“Bianca, do you want to come with me?”
I remembered Matteo telling me he’d take me to see the northern lights, that we’d have another wedding in a seaside chapel, that he’d take me somewhere no one knew us and we’d just be together for a while.
He’d said many things.
He’d done very few of them.
Now, the one actually holding out a hand to me was Alessio.
I nodded once.
“Okay.”
In the airport VIP lounge, the boarding announcements droned on.
Just then, the phone Alessio had left on the table vibrated.
The screen lit up.
It was an iMessage from Matteo.
*Where are you? How are Bianca’s injuries?*
Another message followed immediately.
*…Switch back now.*
I stared at the words, finding them utterly ridiculous.
Even now, he still thought that as long as he wanted to switch back, everything could be undone, as if it had never happened.
Alessio looked down at me, as if waiting for my decision.
I picked up his phone and pressed the call button.
It rang twice before Matteo answered.
Looking out at the planes on the tarmac, I said, one word at a time, “Matteo, it’s too late.”
“Alessio and I already filed our marriage license at the county clerk’s office.”
“From now on, you don’t have to think about switching back, and you don’t have to think about making it up to me.”
“We’re over.”