HER CONTRACT HUSBAND IS THE COMMANDER KING

Chapter 3:

The Benedetti mansion's ornate doors slammed shut as Rocco stumbled through, still cradling his broken finger. His face was a mask of rage and humiliation as he stormed through the marble corridors toward his father's study.

"Papa!" Rocco burst through the heavy oak doors without knocking. "Papa, you need to hear this!"

Giovanni Benedetti looked up from his mahogany desk, his weathered face immediately hardening at the sight of his son's condition. "What happened to your hand?"

"That bastard broke my finger!" Rocco seethed, holding up his swollen digit. "That nobody Gianna married—he attacked me!"

Giovanni's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Start from the beginning. What exactly happened?"

Rocco paced frantically across the Persian rug. "I went to the Moretti villa to talk sense into Gianna about the Kevin arrangement. She was being her usual stubborn self, refusing to listen to reason."

"And then?"

"This pathetic man appeared—thin, poorly dressed, looks like he hasn't eaten a decent meal in weeks. Claims he's her husband!"

Giovanni's fist slammed onto the desk. "Husband? When did this happen?"

"They registered the marriage yesterday! Can you believe it? She found this beggar through a newspaper advertisement!"

"A newspaper ad?" Giovanni's voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "She advertised for a husband like some desperate spinster?"

"Worse than that, Papa. When I tried to make her see reason, offered her the Grandview Hotel and a stake in our shipping business, she threw it back in my face!"

Giovanni stood slowly, his massive frame radiating menace. "What exactly did she say?"

Rocco's face flushed with renewed anger. "She said she'd rather scrub toilets than marry into our family. Called me worthless! Said Kevin was spineless!"

"And this husband of hers? What did he do?"

"He slapped me!" Rocco's voice cracked with indignation. "Right across the face like I was some common street thug!"

Giovanni's jaw tightened. "And the finger?"

"When I threatened him, he grabbed my hand and snapped it like a twig. No hesitation, no emotion—like he'd done it a thousand times before."

"Interesting," Giovanni mused, his anger shifting to cold calculation. "Did he seem trained?"

"What do you mean trained? He's obviously just some desperate nobody!"

"Rocco, you fool. Nobody breaks a finger with that kind of precision without training. Military or martial arts background, perhaps."

"Papa, you should have seen his clothes! Worn suit, cheap shoes—he's clearly broke and jobless."

Giovanni walked to the window overlooking the estate grounds.

"It doesn't matter what he looks like. What matters is that the Romano Family expected Gianna to marry Kevin. Now we have to explain why she's married to some stranger."

"So what do we do?"

"First, we investigate this Vincent. Find out everything—where he's from, what he does for work, his financial situation. I want to know what we're dealing with."

"And then?"

Giovanni's smile was cold and calculating. "Then we destroy him. No one insults the Benedetti Family and lives to boast about it."

Meanwhile, at the Moretti villa, Vincent and Gianna had returned home in complete silence.

The absence of any celebration for their marriage hung heavy in the air as Gianna immediately excused herself to her room.

Vincent explored the villa quietly, his trained eye cataloging every detail. In a storage room near the kitchen, he noticed several dusty packages bearing the Benedetti Family seal, all unopened and forgotten.

His military discipline kept him from investigating further—patience had been his greatest asset during countless operations.

The next morning, Vincent rose before dawn and made his way to the kitchen.

With the same meticulous planning he'd once used to coordinate military strikes, he prepared breakfast.

The buns he chose held particular significance—similar to ones from a memory he cherished of a kind girl sharing food with a starving orphan.

"What are you doing?" Gianna appeared in the doorway, still in her silk robe.

"Making breakfast," Vincent replied simply, not looking up from his work.

"I didn't ask you to cook for me."

"I know. But you need to eat."

Gianna sat at the kitchen island, watching him work with practiced efficiency. "Don't think this changes anything between us. This is still just a business arrangement."

"I understand," Vincent said, placing a perfectly prepared plate before her.

She took a bite of the bun, and something flickered across her face—a distant memory, perhaps, but it vanished quickly.

"Listen," Gianna said, her tone businesslike, "today is my great-grandmother's birthday. You need to come with me to the family gathering."

"Of course," Vincent replied without hesitation.

"Don't expect me to make excuses for you. My family will probably treat you like garbage, especially after what happened with Rocco yesterday."

"I can handle whatever they dish out."

Gianna studied his calm expression. "You don't seem bothered by the prospect of being humiliated in front of my entire family."

"Should I be?"

"Most men would be terrified. My family has... influence. They could make your life very difficult."

Vincent's slight smile held secrets she couldn't fathom. "I'm not most men."

"No, you're definitely not," she muttered, finishing her breakfast. "Be ready to leave in an hour. And Vincent?"

"Yes?"

"Try to find something decent to wear. I won't have you embarrassing me more than necessary."

After Gianna disappeared upstairs to change, Vincent searched through the modest wardrobe in his assigned room. He found an older suit that, while not expensive, was well-tailored and would complement his lean, athletic build—a physique honed by years of military training that his loose clothing usually concealed.

As he adjusted his tie in the mirror, Vincent's reflection showed a man preparing for battle. His strategic mind was already working, calculating potential threats and planning responses.

The Benedetti Family would undoubtedly seek revenge for yesterday's humiliation, and today's gathering would provide the perfect opportunity for them to strike back.

He thought about the dusty packages in the storage room, the fear in Gianna's eyes when she spoke of her family's influence, the way she'd built walls around herself for protection.

She had no idea that the man she'd married as a shield against her family's plans was actually one of the most powerful individuals on the planet—a martial commander whose influence extended across continents and whose personal wealth could buy and sell the Benedetti empire a hundred times over.

"Vincent!" Gianna called from downstairs. "Are you ready?"

"Coming," he replied, taking one last look in the mirror.