Second Marriage, The Billionaire's Planned Love novel Chapter 197

197 Chapter 197 Prison Revelation

Caleb’s POV

The Thorne family compound had become my fortress over the recent weeks, and honestly, I thrived in the chaos of running our operations from within these walls. Every day brought new challenges, new territories to secure, new opportunities to expand our influence. My lieutenants respected my methods, and my partnership with our veteran consigliere Adler had evolved into something irreplaceable. The old–timer treated me like the son he never had, mentoring me with the kind of wisdom that only comes from decades in the family business. His reputation was spotless, his loyalty unquestionable. But one thing gnawed at me constantly – Rossi’s father remained a ghost in the wind.

I pushed through Adler’s office door, balancing a box of those cheese croissants he’d become obsessed with. The man had simple pleasures, and I’d learned that small gestures went a long way in maintaining the bonds that kept our family strong.

“Morning, Adler! Brought your addiction fuel,” I announced, setting the box on his cluttered desk.

His weathered face broke into a genuine grin. “You’re golden, kid. The whole family’s talking about how you’ve stepped up since taking over.” He stood, moving to the ancient espresso machine that somehow still produced perfect Italian brew. “Actually, your timing’s perfect. Got something that might interest you, besides the caffeine.”

Adler poured two steaming cups, the rich aroma filling his cramped office. He settled back into his chair, selecting a croissant and taking an almost reverent bite, eyes closing in appreciation.

“These things are dangerous. Your lady has ruined my diet completely.” Ever since the family had witnessed Zoe take charge during Ivy’s crisis, Adler had dubbed her “boss lady” with obvious admiration. Their friendship had grown

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naturally, and he never missed a chance to sing her praises. “That woman’s got steel in her spine.”

“She’s something else entirely,” I agreed, warmth spreading through my chest at the thought of her. “So what’s this gift you mentioned?”

“Remember Rossi’s daughter?” Adler’s tone shifted, becoming more serious.

“Hard to forget that performance. Woman could shatter glass with those sobs.” The memory of her dramatic breakdown when we’d captured her still made me wince.

“Warden from the private facility reached out recently. Seems our dramatic princess wants an audience with you specifically.” He leaned forward, elbows on his desk. “Apparently she’s been demanding this meeting for some time. Warden finally took notice because she’s… different somehow. Even requested a cell transfer to get away from Monica.”

That detail caught my attention immediately. Rossi changing her behavior voluntarily seemed impossible, yet here we were.

“Different how?”

“Calmer, according to the warden. Participating in programs, working in the craft shop, playing nice with other inmates. Complete personality flip.” Adler shrugged. “Could be an act, could be genuine. Either way, she claims she has important information about her father.”

The possibilities raced through my mind. Rossi had always been our wild card, unpredictable and self–serving. But if she genuinely had intel on her father’s whereabouts…

“I’m heading over there now.”

The private correctional facility always felt oppressive, all concrete and steel and barely contained tension. The warden confirmed what Adler had described – Rossi’s transformation seemed legitimate. She’d become a model prisoner almost overnight, participating in rehabilitation programs and maintaining peaceful relationships with other inmates. When they brought

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her to the warden’s office, the change was immediately visible.

Gone was the hysterical, entitled mob princess who’d sobbed her way through previous encounters. Her hair was neatly pulled back, her posture composed, her voice steady when she spoke.

“Don Thorne, thank you for coming.” She settled into the chair across from me with surprising grace.

“You’ve certainly made an impression here, Rossi. What’s prompted this change?”

“Prison has a way of forcing perspective, doesn’t it?” Her smile was sad but genuine. “I was spoiled, Don Thorne. Completely out of touch with reality. I thought the family owed me everything I wanted, and I hurt people trying to take it.” She paused, hands folded in her lap. “But I’m here now, and I need to face what I’ve done.”

Her sincerity caught me off guard. This wasn’t the manipulative performance I’d expected.

“I appreciate your honesty. What did you want to discuss?”

“I want you to catch my mother’s killer.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. “I want justice for her.”

“Rossi, we both know who killed your mother.”

“That monster who calls himself my father.” Her voice hardened with genuine hatred. “I can’t believe he murdered the woman who stood by him for decades, then abandoned his own daughter like garbage. He’s a coward who deserves to rot in hell.”

The pain in her voice was raw, real. Whatever game Rossi had been playing before, this wasn’t part of it.

“We’re doing everything possible to locate him, but he has resources. We suspect he might have fled the country.”

“He didn’t run.” Her certainty was absolute, sending ice through my veins. “I

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guarantee it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because he won’t leave until you and your entire family are dead.” The casual way she delivered this death sentence made my blood freeze. “He’s obsessed,

Don Thorne. This isn’t over for him.”

“Do you have any idea where we might find him?”

“He kept a place for his affairs. A little apartment where he’d meet his mistresses, including that witch Monica.” Rossi’s disgust was palpable. “I can give you the address.”

“How did our surveillance miss this property?”

“It’s not in his name. I only discovered it because I suspected he was cheating and followed him one evening.” She looked almost embarrassed by the admission. “I was so naive then, thinking infidelity was the worst thing he

could do.”

For the next while, Rossi provided detailed intelligence about her father’s habits, contacts, and resources. She gave me addresses, names, behavioral patterns – everything she could remember. It was more progress than we’d made in recent weeks.

Before leaving, I promised to keep her informed about our hunt and to ensure her father faced justice for her mother’s murder. Her gratitude was genuine, and I left feeling cautiously optimistic for the first time in days.

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