He Chose Another Heir, Now He Wants Me Back novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Airport Gate
Six years after she fled, Serena lands for her dying mother and finds Alessio's men blocking the exit, his hand on her wrist and a wedding band on his finger. She gets into his car, and the driver calls her Signora.
The morning I learned Alessio Bellandi had written my foster sister's unborn baby into the Bellandi line of succession, I ended our engagement at an airport gate.
Livia had sent me the proof herself.
It was a photo of the family registry, the new line inked in his uncle's careful hand.
It named the baby heir to the Bellandi seat, with Alessio as the father and Livia as the mother, due in spring.
Under the photo she had written: "I'm so sorry, Serena. Please don't call him. Let me handle Alessio. I'll look after Mama."
I read it standing at the gate with my boarding pass in my hand.
Then my phone started shaking with his messages.
"Don't do anything yet. Pick up and I'll tell you everything."
"Nothing you sign counts until both Families witness it. We are still engaged."
"Serena. Please."
In twenty years I had never heard Alessio say please to anyone.
I stared at it for a long time.
Then I signed the dissolution papers on my knee and sealed the black and gold signet ring in a courier box.
I switched off the phone, snapped the SIM card in half, and boarded.
I did not look back at the city, and I stayed away for six years.
I came home because Livia emailed me at last.
Mama's liver was failing, and she had weeks.
I walked out of the arrivals hall with one suitcase and a hospital authorization letter in my name.
Just past the exit, a wall of black coats closed in front of me.
Bellandi men stood in two lines down the hall, all the way to the glass doors.
Their jackets hung open and the holsters showed.
Travelers curved around them and kept their eyes down.
Nobody asked a guard why a hall was closed.
The nearest man bowed his head to me and said, "Signora."
Down the whole line, one by one, the others did the same.
I thought it was a joke at my expense, and I did not slow down.
At the very end, dead center, stood Alessio.
He had lost weight, and the black suit sat sharper on his shoulders for it.
His grey eyes were as cold as ever and more tired.
On his left hand was a plain gold wedding band.
So Livia had married him.
I waited for that to hurt, and it didn't, not yet.
"Serena."
I kept my face empty and steered my suitcase toward the gap beside him.
He caught my wrist.
His palm was hot and his grip was tight enough to leave marks.
"The car is outside," he said. His voice was rough. "I'll take you to the hospital myself."
I looked at the ring on his finger.
"No, thank you, Bellandi," I said. "I have a ride."
I had called him Alessio since I was eight years old.
I watched the name land on his face.
His fingers tightened and I did not let myself flinch.
"Serena," he said again, quieter. "Six years. Haven't you punished me enough?"
I looked straight into his eyes.
He had promised to protect me for life, and for four years he had told me "after the wedding" whenever I reached for him.
Then a baby had appeared, with his name beside it.
"Not if I spent my whole life on it," I said, and pulled my hand free.
The color left his face.
A guard down the line stepped forward, and Alessio lifted two fingers to stop him.
Nobody in that hall moved without his word, and I had just refused him in front of every one of them.
He opened his mouth.
I spoke first. "Move. My mother's doctors need my signature on her consent forms, and no Bellandi gets to sign for me."
He went still.
I think that was when he finally believed I had come back for my mother and for nothing else.
"The transplant team already has Livia's match report," he said quickly. "A second hospital's surgeons review her file on Tuesday. My car is outside."
I paused to steady myself.
My mother had weeks, and my pride would not buy her one more day.
"Fine," I said.
The men opened a path to the doors without a word.
The black car idled at the curb with the rear door already open.
I got in and kept my suitcase on my knees between us.
Alessio sat down on the far side and kept his hands on his thighs.
The driver glanced at me in the mirror and smiled.
"Welcome home, Signora."
I waited for Alessio to correct him.
I waited for the man to say Signora Albani, or Miss, or anything that meant someone else.
Alessio looked out the window, and the car pulled away from the curb.
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