The Wrong Brother

The first thing I noticed about Moretti Industries was that it was trying too hard.

The marble floors were spotless. The glass walls stretched from one end of the lobby to the other, reflecting the morning light so perfectly that the whole building looked like it had been designed for photographs rather than people.

I wasn't impressed. I've been surrounded by beautiful things my entire life. My father's house had marble floors too. Italian ones. My father would probably be offended if he knew i had just compared them to the ones beneath my shoes.

I adjusted the strap of my handbag and walked toward reception.

"Ms. Farnese?"

I stopped. A woman in a charcoal suit approached me with a smile that was polished enough to belong on a billboard.

"Yes."

"I'm Lenette the recruiter."

We shook hands.

"Welcome to Moretti Industries."

"Thank you."

Her eyes briefly travelled over me. Not rudely. Just enough to take in the tailored cream blazer, gold watch, and the handbag that was probably too understated.

I was beginning to suspect she'd expected someone different.

"You found us easily?"

"Yes."

"Good. Mr. Moretti's office is on the thirty-second floor. I'll take you up."

I followed her toward the elevators.

"Mr. Moretti?" I asked.

"Alessio Moretti. CEO."

I nodded. I'd heard the name before. Everyone had.

Moretti Industries wasn't just successful. It was the kind of company people mentioned at dinner parties when they wanted to sound informed. Finance, property, technology, hospitality—the Marini's had managed to put their name on nearly everything worth owning.

And now I was one of their employees. Technically. The elevator doors opened. As we stepped inside, Lenette glanced at me.

"Have you worked in a company this size before?"

"Not quite."

"Your résumé says you were with Farnese Holdings."

"I was."

She smiled. "That's your family's company, isn't it?"

"Yes."

There was a tiny pause. "Interesting."

I knew what she was thinking. Rich girl. Daddy's company. Probably never had to work a day in her life. She was very wrong. But I did not need to explain myself.

"I wanted to work somewhere that wasn't mine," I said.

Lenette's smile returned.

"Well, you've certainly chosen a place where you'll be challenged."

The elevator began to climb. I watched the numbers change above the door.

Thirty-two. For the first time that morning, I felt something I couldn't quite name. Not nerves. Something sharper. I tightened my grip around my handbag. I'd spent weeks preparing for this.

The interviews. The background checks. The carefully edited résumé. The references. Every question had been answered exactly the way it needed to be. I hadn't come here by accident. And whatever happened next, I couldn't afford to lose my nerve now. The elevator doors opened.

Lenette stepped out first. "After you."

I followed her down a quiet hallway lined with photographs of Moretti executives through the decades. Men in expensive suits. Women with carefully composed smiles, Awards and company milestones. Then I saw a photograph that made me slow down.

Two young men stood beside an older man. Brothers, presumably. One of them looked directly at the camera, smiling like he knew the world belonged to him. The other wasn't smiling. His eyes were cold. Unreadable.

"That's the Moretti brothers," Lenette said.

I looked away.

"Which one is the CEO?"

"The one on the left."

"Alessio?"

"Yes."

"And the other?"

Lenette smiled. "Giulio."

The way she said his name made me glance at her. There was a slight warmth in her voice, a softness that hadn't been there a moment ago. Almost as if simply saying Giulio Moretti was enough to put a smile on her face.

Before I could ask, she opened a door.

"Mr. Moretti is expecting you."

I stepped inside.

And for the first time since I had accepted the job, I wondered whether I had made a mistake.

Not because of the company. Not because of the position. But because someone was already waiting for me and he was the CEO. He was the man from the photograph. Alessio Moretti.

He looked up from the chair beside the window, closing the file in front of him with deliberate calmness.

Up close, he was more attractive than the photograph had suggested. Dark hair, sharp features, and an expression that gave very little away. There was something quietly intimidating about him, but I refused to let myself linger on it.

His gaze rested on me for a moment before he stood.

"Clara Farnese."

It wasn't a question.

"Mr. Moretti."

He gave a brief nod and extended his hand.

"Welcome to Moretti Industries."

His voice was calm and stern, completely professional. I shook his hand. His grip was firm, his expression unreadable.

"I understand you'll be joining us as our new HR Business Partner."

"That's right."

"Good." He gestured toward the chair opposite his desk. "Please, have a seat."

I sat, placing my handbag neatly beside me.

Alessio returned to his chair, opened the file again, and glanced through the pages.

"I've reviewed your background. Farnese Holdings is impressive."

"Thank you."

"You've worked across employee relations, talent management, organisational development, and executive support."

"I have."

"And now you've chosen to leave your family's company."

There was no judgment in his tone. Just observation.

"I wanted a new environment," I said.

His eyes lifted to mine.

"Moretti won't be easy."

"I wasn't expecting it to be."

Suddenly, something almost resembling approval crossed his face.

"Good."

He closed the file.

"Then welcome to Moretti Industries, Ms. Farnese. I expect you'll find the role challenging, but I trust you'll handle it professionally."

I gave him a small smile.

"That's what I'm here to do."

He held my gaze for a second longer before nodding.

"Then I think we'll get along just fine."

I wasn't sure why, but I had a feeling that last part wasn't entirely true.