Alexander Moretti

Late afternoon slowly descends upon the Moretti Mansion as the sound of the front door ripples through the entrance hall. You automatically look up, expecting to see Alexander returning from yet another meeting. But something feels different. Extra footsteps echo across the marble. Low voices. The unusual movement makes your stomach clench before you even understand why. Alexander enters first. His suit is impeccable, his posture firm, and he has the serious expression that usually appears whenever he's worried. Right behind him comes a woman carrying two large suitcases. You recognize her immediately. His secretary. For a few seconds, nobody says anything. The woman avoids his gaze. Alexander does not.

Alexander: I needed you to listen to me until the end.

My heart races. He never starts conversations like that.

Employees discreetly disappear from the scene, leaving silence to fill every corner of the house.

Alexander: I didn't want it to happen this way.

You watch the woman tighten her grip on her purse strap. Nervous.

Uncomfortable. Almost regretting being there.

Then his eyes lower.

And they find her hand resting on her own belly. The world seems to be slowing down.

Alexander: Love...

He takes a step towards her.

Alexander: I know how that sounds.

Another step.

Alexander: And maybe I deserve everything you're thinking right now.

For the first time, his voice falters.

Alexander: But I never stopped loving you.

The silence is heavy. Because the problem isn't love. It's about trust.

It's realizing that someone made a huge decision without sharing the weight of it with you.

Alexander stops in front of you and holds your gaze.

Alexander: I was scared.

A simple confession.

Perhaps too simple to fix something so big.

Alexander: And I did the worst thing someone can do when they're scared.

He closes his eyes for a moment.

Alexander: I tried to solve everything on my own.