Sweet Little Lies

Chapter Forty-Three

"What the fuck do you mean my factory burnt down?"

Isabella Bianchi was furious. Her main source of income was now up in flames. The Bianchi empire had been slowly crumpling throughout the decades, and this might be the catalyst to their ruin.

Once, they were feared.

Now, they were looked down upon.

The other families turned their noses down on the Bianchi name, like they were the weak link, but Isabella knew better. She was working hard to undo the harm her father had caused their name. Her name.

If only her useless children had been born with some type of backbone. It was like they weren't even hers. With this factory burnt down and no heirs, she was one step closer to being ousted.

Her lieutenant shifted uncomfortably in front of her. He was new. Young. Her last being fired after pissing her off. Honestly, this one wasn't going to last long either.

He cleared his throat, "Sometime last night it... caught on fire and it burned through this morning."

"And how am I just hearing about this?" She clenched her jaw, "There were men working there last night. Did they just flee like cowards when the fire started?"

"Actually," he hesitated, "it looks like they died."

Isabella raised an eyebrow at him, "Did they all forget how to walk? How did fifty men die including the ones stationed outside the building?"

"The bodies we salvaged had bullet holes in the head. Execution style."

She froze. This wasn't just an attack on her factory. This was an all out assault on the Bianchi dynasty. This was meant to put her under. Isabella was meant to be there last night, but her plans changed when she met up with Patrick.

"What time do we estimate this attack at?"

"The last communication we had was just past midnight."

"I was the target."

"Ma'am?"

She scoffed, "Don't call me that! I am not my mother." Centering herself with a long exhale of breath, Isabella continued, "You will increase security around me at all times. No one gets in or out of the compound without my explicit permission."

"Where are you going?" He asked as she stood and put on her coat.

Her harsh gaze froze him. "Don't question me, boy."

Surprisingly, he squared his shoulders, "You told me we needed to reinforce your security. To do that, I need to keep an eye on you."

She studied him, "Hmm, maybe you will last."

Then she left, not objecting to him following her.

†††

Their normal rendezvous spot was in the business sector near his work. There was a private club that they could go to without anyone seeing - or caring. Privacy was the most important thing there. Enemies could be in the same room and courtesy would require them to look the other way.

Isabella had sent him a text to meet her there. It had been two hours and he still hadn't shown up.

Her anger was fast rising. Patrick Styles had always been full of himself. It was one of the reasons why she was in love with the fool, but the disrespect that he showed to her was sometimes too much for her to take. Things were always on his terms. Last night, he was the one to reach out to her for a night together. Yet tonight, when she needed him, he was taking his damn time.