Beyond Their Expectations: From Street Rat To Supreme Ruler

4: Revelation And Reckoning

"Mr. Marchetti, I can explain—"

Isabella rushed forward, her voice desperate, hands clasped together like she was praying.

CRACK.

Lorenzo's hand flew across her face with enough force to snap her head sideways. The sound echoed through the silent lobby like a gunshot.

Isabella stumbled, her hand flying to her reddening cheek, eyes wide with shock.

The crowd gasped collectively.

Lorenzo didn't even look at her. He turned back to Dante and bowed deeply, his voice thick with remorse.

"Young Master Moretti, please forgive this disgraceful display. I take full responsibility for not properly educating my staff about your arrival. This is my failure."

Dante waved a hand dismissively. "Handle it however you see fit. I'm going upstairs."

He walked toward the private elevator without another word.

Lorenzo's expression darkened like a gathering storm. He straightened slowly, his gaze sweeping across the lobby—the receptionist, the guards, every single guest who had mocked and insulted his master.

"Everyone who disrespected Young Master Moretti," Lorenzo said, his voice cold and final, "is fired. Effective immediately. Your names will be blacklisted from every company in this industry. You will never work in a position of significance again."

"Mr. Marchetti, please!" Isabella dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't know! How could I have known? Please, I'm begging you—I have a family to support, bills to pay! Give me one more chance!"

Lorenzo looked at her like she was an insect.

"You called my master a street rat. A mongrel. A flea." His voice was ice. "You compared him to animals and ordered security to assault him. And now you want mercy?"

"I didn't know—"

"Ignorance is not an excuse. It's a failure." He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. "You have until the end of today to clear out your office. One minute late, and my lawyers will be filing charges for assault and criminal conspiracy. Do I make myself clear?"

Isabella's face went white as death. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

The guards who had advanced on Dante backed away slowly, their faces pale, hoping to disappear into the walls.

Lorenzo turned to address the entire lobby, his voice carrying like a judge pronouncing sentence.

"Let me make something abundantly clear to all of you. Young Master Moretti is the true owner of Armani Allied Group. I work for him. This company exists because of him. And if any of you—any of you—ever treat him with anything less than the utmost respect again, you won't just be fired. You'll be ruined."

Silence. Not a single person dared to breathe too loudly.

"Now get back to work. Unless you'd like to join Ms. Conti in the unemployment line."

The crowd scattered like frightened animals.

Lorenzo straightened his tie and hurried toward the private elevator, his expression shifting from fury to barely contained excitement.

The top floor office was massive—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the entire city, modern furniture, a desk that could double as a dining table. Dante stood by the window, hands in his pockets, surveying his domain.

Lorenzo burst through the door, practically vibrating with enthusiasm.

"Young Master! You're finally back! Do you know how long I've waited for this day?" He clasped his hands together. "We must celebrate! A grand banquet—invite every major family, every business leader! Show them all that the true heir has returned!"

"No."

Lorenzo deflated slightly. "But Young Master—"

"No banquets. No announcements. Not yet." Dante turned from the window. "What about those letters? The ones I told you to investigate before I came down from the mountain. Have you made any progress?"

Lorenzo's excitement dimmed. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Ah. Yes. About that." He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "The letters were extremely old, Young Master. The damage was extensive. We've only managed to decipher one so far."

"And?"

"Well..." Lorenzo tugged at his collar. "It's... complicated."

"Lorenzo." Dante's voice hardened. "Get to the point."

"It's a marriage contract."

The words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to explode.

Dante blinked. "A what?"

"A marriage contract. Between your family and another prominent household. Signed when you were... very young." Lorenzo winced. "Apparently it's been binding this entire time."

Dante's eye twitched. "You're joking."

"I wish I was."

"Then we'll just pretend none of this ever happened." Dante waved his hand dismissively. "Burn the letter. Forget about it. Problem solved."

"Ah." Lorenzo grimaced. "That's... not possible."

"Why not?"

"Because Master Armani found out."

Dante froze. "What?"

"He was very excited, Young Master. Very, very excited." Lorenzo spoke quickly, like ripping off a bandage. "He said his beloved disciple deserved a proper marriage, and he personally contacted the head of the other family to confirm the engagement would be honored the moment you descended from the mountain."

Dante's face went through several colors—white, red, purple. "He did WHAT?!"

"Please don't shoot the messenger—"

"I'm calling him right now!" Dante yanked out his phone, fingers flying across the screen. "How dare he arrange my marriage without consulting me?! And more importantly, I've spent ten years hiding my identity to avoid alerting my enemies! This is basically handing them my location on a silver platter!"

"Wait!" Lorenzo grabbed Dante's hand before he could dial. "Young Master, calm down. Master Armani thought of that."

"Did he now."

"He arranged the engagement using your current identity. Dante Moretti. Not your real name. The other family has no idea who you actually are."

Dante paused, his anger cooling slightly into confusion. "And... they actually agreed? To marry their daughter to a complete nobody?"

Lorenzo's chest puffed up with pride. "Of course they agreed! The moment Master Armani mentioned you were his prized disciple, they practically fell over themselves to accept. The name 'Armani' carries that much weight, Young Master."

Dante's eye twitched again. "Which family?"

"The Santoro Family."

"Never heard of them."

"They're quite prestigious in this city, Young Master. Old nobility. Impeccable reputation." Lorenzo was practically glowing now. "They're not as wealthy as us, obviously—no one is—but they're still a very respectable household. The daughter is apparently quite beautiful and accomplished. You're very fortunate!"

"The Santoro Family," Dante repeated slowly, a strange feeling creeping up his spine. "And what's the daughter's name?"

"Giulia Santoro. Twenty-three years old. Graduated top of her class, speaks four languages, trained in—"

The world tilted sideways.

Dante's vision went dark at the edges. His hand gripped the edge of the desk to steady himself.

"Young Master? Are you alright? You look pale—"

"The Santoro Family," Dante said faintly. "You're absolutely certain?"

"Yes! Master Armani was very thorough. The engagement is ironclad. The Santoro patriarch even seemed quite pleased—"

Dante made a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

Giulia Santoro. The woman from last night. The woman who'd thrown Lorenzo's business card in the trash. The woman who'd threatened to destroy him if he breathed a word about what happened between them.

That woman.

Was his fiancée.

"Young Master?" Lorenzo leaned forward, concerned. "Should I call a doctor? You look like you're about to faint—"

"I slept with her."

Silence.

Lorenzo blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"This morning. Last night, technically. Long story involving kidnappers and aphrodisiacs." Dante dragged both hands down his face. "She woke up, threw a glass at me, called me a perverted rapist, tossed your business card in the garbage, and threatened to destroy me if I ever mentioned what happened."

Lorenzo's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

"So you're saying..." He spoke slowly, processing. "You've already consummated the engagement?"

"That is not the point!"

"That's actually very efficient, Young Master—"

"Lorenzo!"

"Right, right, sorry." Lorenzo cleared his throat, fighting back what looked suspiciously like laughter. "So your fiancée... doesn't know you're her fiancée. And thinks you're a poor nobody. And has threatened to ruin you."

"Yes."

"And you saved her life and slept with her."

"Yes."

"And she threw my business card in the trash."