Mentality of The Heart

CHAPTER 04

Alice's POV

It had been a week since I started working for Mr. Bianchi, and to my surprise, the experience had been relatively pleasant. With Amore around to keep me company, the days passed smoothly. Despite her youth, she was wise beyond her years, and her cheerful presence made the unfamiliar environment feel a little less daunting.

So far, there hadn't been any incidents. Mr. Bianchi appeared perfectly normal—controlled, poised, and polite. Sometimes I wondered if he even needed my help. The man I observed didn't align with the stories I'd read in his files or the warnings I'd been given.

At the moment, I was in my room, reviewing his medical records. Despite the calm exterior he presented, I couldn't ignore the gravity of my position. He was still my patient, and I had a job to do.

As I flipped through the pages, a curious pattern emerged. Mr. Bianchi had been under the care of numerous psychiatrists before me, all women, all young—none of them lasting long in their roles. It piqued my curiosity, but it wasn't until I stumbled upon a specific entry that the air around me seemed to thicken.

Date: November 19, 2021

Name: Alexander Dante Bianchi

Former Status: Unknown

Current Status: Regular Splits

Diagnosis: None

Code: Red

I stared at the words. Code Red.

That classification was no small matter. Patients under Code Red were considered exceptionally dangerous—high-functioning, manipulative, and capable of extreme violence. These weren't ordinary cases. They were the ones restrained in high-security facilities, their sharp minds a threat to anyone who underestimated them.

But Mr. Bianchi wasn't like that. Was he?

I felt my grip tighten on the file as unease settled over me. Had I missed something? Was there a side to him that hadn't surfaced yet?

Lost in thought, I didn't hear the door creak open.

"Hey there, amore mio."

The familiar voice startled me, and I whipped around in my chair to find him standing in the doorway.

"Oh—Mr. Bianchi, you scared me," I said, clutching my chest to steady my racing heart.

A slow, predatory smile spread across his lips. "Maybe I should sneak up on you more often. Your cute little yelps of fear turn me on, amore mio."

Wait—what?

I blinked, certain I had misheard him. But his emerald eyes gleamed with mischief, and the suggestive tilt of his mouth told me he meant every word.

"Mr. B-Bianchi," I stammered, rising from my chair and holding my hands up as if to ward him off. "I would appreciate it if you refrained from speaking to me in such an inappropriate manner."

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Oh, don't worry, cara mia. You'll crack one day—they always do."

His words sent a chill down my spine, and the way his gaze roamed over me made my skin crawl.

"Why are you here?" I asked, my voice firmer this time, hoping to regain some control of the situation.

"I was just checking in," he replied nonchalantly, though his smirk betrayed his true intentions. "Haven't seen much of you lately."