Isabella smiled.
Alessandro continued.
"Family is the one thing money cannot replace."
The guests applauded.
Then something happened.
The enormous ballroom doors opened.
A young woman appeared in the entrance.
She wore a dark blue top and an olive-green jacket. Her long brown hair fell over her shoulders, and her face looked pale.
One hand rested protectively against her pregnant belly.
She looked around the room with frightened eyes.
Her lips trembled.
There were tears on her cheeks.
For a moment, nobody recognized her.
Then Alessandro turned.
His champagne glass slipped slightly in his hand.
He stared.
He knew that face.
He knew those eyes.
He knew the way she tilted her head when she was nervous.
"Clara..."
The name escaped his lips before he realized he had spoken.
Isabella immediately turned toward the entrance.
Her eyes widened.
"Oh my God."
Clara stood motionless.
She had imagined this reunion many times.
She had rehearsed what she would say.
She had planned to smile, apologize, and explain everything.
But now that she was finally standing in front of her father, she could barely breathe.
"Father..."
Alessandro did not wait for another word.
He immediately placed his glass on the table and hurried toward her.
His chair fell backward.
Several guests turned in surprise.
"Clara!"
He reached her within seconds.
"My darling!"
He gently held her shoulders, looking at her face as though he needed to convince himself that she was real.
"Is it really you?"
Clara nodded.
Then she began crying.
Alessandro's expression changed instantly.
"What's wrong? What happened?"
He looked at her carefully.
Her cheeks were pale.
Her eyes were swollen.
Her clothes looked slightly disheveled.
And then he noticed her pregnant belly.
His eyes widened.
"Sweetheart..."
He slowly looked at her stomach.
"You're pregnant?"
Clara nodded again.
A tear rolled down her cheek.
"Yes, Father."
Alessandro seemed unable to speak.
He gently placed one hand near her shoulder and the other against her arm.
"How long?"
"Six months."
"Six months?"
He looked shocked.
Then his expression softened into something almost painful.
"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart?"
Clara lowered her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"No, no. Don't apologize."
He immediately pulled her into his arms.
"Come here."
Clara buried her face against his chest.
She had been trying to remain strong for months.
She had endured fear, exhaustion, loneliness, and uncertainty.
But the moment her father's arms surrounded her, all the strength she had been holding onto disappeared.
She sobbed.
Alessandro held her carefully, making sure not to press against her stomach.
"Easy, sweetheart. Easy."
He gently stroked her hair.
"You're home now."
Clara cried harder.
"I'm sorry, Daddy."
Alessandro closed his eyes.
Hearing that childhood name again nearly broke his heart.
"Don't say that. You don't have to apologize for coming home."
He kissed the top of her head.
"You're my little girl. You can always come home."
Isabella approached them.
"Clara, darling!"
The young woman turned.
"Isabella..."
The older woman immediately embraced her.
"Oh, sweetheart. Look at you."
She held Clara's face between her hands.
"You're so pale. Have you been eating properly?"
Clara attempted a small smile.
"Sometimes."
"Sometimes?" Isabella looked at Alessandro.
"Did you hear that?"
Alessandro's expression became concerned.
"Why aren't you eating properly?"
Clara shook her head.
"It's been difficult."
"Are you feeling sick?"
"Sometimes."
"Have you seen a doctor?"
Clara hesitated.
Alessandro immediately noticed.
"When was your last medical appointment?"
"A few weeks ago."
"Which doctor?"
"I..."
He gently touched her cheek.
"Clara, sweetheart, I'm not questioning you. I just need to know whether you're all right."
She looked at him.
"I haven't been feeling very well."
His face tightened with concern.
"Then we're going to have a doctor examine you tonight."
"Father, I'm okay."
"I know you want me to believe that, but look at you."
He turned toward his head of security.
"Marco!"
A tall man in a black suit approached immediately.
"Yes, Don Moretti?"
"Call the family doctor. I want him at the estate as soon as possible. Tell him my daughter is six months pregnant and hasn't been feeling well."
"Understood."
"And prepare the car."
Marco nodded.
"Immediately."
Alessandro turned back to Clara.
"Have you eaten anything today?"
She shook her head.
His expression became even more worried.
"Nothing?"
"I wasn't hungry."
He looked toward Isabella.
"Get her something warm. Soup, fruit, anything she can eat comfortably."
Isabella nodded.
"Of course."
Then Alessandro looked at the guests who were still watching.
"Please excuse us. My daughter needs to rest."
Nobody objected.
The celebration was effectively over.
But Alessandro did not care.
His daughter had returned.
Nothing else mattered.
As he helped Clara walk toward the private elevator, he kept one arm around her shoulders.
"Are you comfortable?"
"Yes."
"Are your feet hurting?"
"A little."
"Then we'll get you comfortable shoes."
She gave a weak laugh through her tears.
"Father..."
"What?"
"You're worrying too much."
He stopped walking and looked at her.
"Do you have any idea how many nights I spent wondering where you were?"
Her smile disappeared.
"I'm sorry."
He immediately softened.
"Sweetheart, listen to me. I don't want another apology. I want you healthy. I want you safe. That's all."
Clara leaned against him.
"I missed you."
Alessandro kissed her forehead.
"I missed you more than you can imagine."
When they entered the private elevator, Isabella noticed that Clara was trembling.
"Are you cold, darling?"
"A little."
Isabella removed her shawl and placed it around Clara's shoulders.
Alessandro pressed the button for the private exit.
Then he looked at his daughter again.
"Have you felt the baby moving today?"
Clara nodded.
"Yes."
"Good."
He smiled for the first time that evening.
"Does the baby move a lot?"
"Especially at night."
Alessandro let out a small laugh.
"Already keeping everyone awake."
Clara smiled.
For a moment, the fear in her eyes disappeared.
Then she looked down.
"Father?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Are you disappointed?"
Alessandro frowned.
"Disappointed about what?"
"That I'm pregnant."