Chapter 19: The Silk Noose
The sun rose over Lake Varese not with a golden glow, but with a cold, pale light that filtered through the floor-to-ceiling glass of the estate like a clinical observation. Élise had barely slept. Every creak of the modern house, every rustle of the wind against the pines, had sounded like Pedro's footsteps or Adriano's heavy, rhythmic pacing from the room down the hall.
She had dressed in the only clothes she managed to grab a simple, high-collared cream sweater and dark slacks. She looked like a ghost in the vast, minimalist kitchen as she stared at the high-end espresso machine, her hands still trembling from the encounter at the apartment.
"The coffee is automatic. You don't have to fear it."
Élise jumped, turning to see Adriano. He was already dressed in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking as though he hadn't spent the night in a state of silent fury. But the dark circles under his eyes told a different story.
"I didn't hear you come in," she whispered.
"This house was built for silence," he replied, walking toward her. He didn't touch her, but the air between them was thick with a new, dangerous tension.
Before Élise could respond, the low, melodic chime of the front gate echoed through the house. Adriano froze. His eyes flicked to the security monitor on the wall, and his face went from tired to deathly pale.
"Adriano? Who is it?"
"My mother," he hissed, his voice filled with a rare, genuine panic. "Go to the library. Behind the kitchen. Do not come out until I tell you."
Élise scrambled into the shadows just as the heavy front door swung open. The sound of clicking heels slow and deliberate echoed across the polished floor.
"Adriano," a voice said. It was rich, smooth, and incredibly intimidating. "You didn't answer my calls. Since when is my son unavailable to his own mother?"
Élise watched through the crack in the library door as Donna Isabella Moretti stopped by the fireplace. She looked at the floor, picking up a tiny, missed shard of crystal from the glass Adriano had shattered the night before.
"Lucia called me in tears," Isabella said. "She spoke of a French girl who has turned my son's head. Where is she, Adriano? Where are you hiding the intern who thinks she belongs in a Moretti estate?"
"She is an employee, Mother. Nothing more."
"Then why," Isabella said, stepping toward the kitchen, "is the scent of a Parisian perfume lingering in a house that hasn't seen a guest in five years? Élise, come out. I dislike talking to shadows."
The door felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as Élise pushed it open. She stepped into the light, feeling the full weight of Donna Isabella's gaze a look of pure, clinical assessment.
"So," Isabella said. "This is the girl. She is pretty, in a quiet way. I see why Pedro chose her as his weapon. He knew you'd react exactly like this. He knew you'd take her, hide her, and ruin your reputation to keep her."
Isabella looked at Élise then, her expression hardening. "Tell me, Miss Laurent. Do you know what happened to the last woman the brothers fought over? The one from the Vigna del Sole? She was crushed between them. Just as you will be, unless you walk out that door right now."
"She stays," Adriano said, stepping between them.
"Then you have declared war," Isabella said, walking toward the door. As she passed Élise, she leaned in, her voice a cold whisper. "He doesn't care for you, child. He only wants to win against his brother. Remember that."
The door slammed shut, leaving a silence so profound it felt like the world had stopped turning.
The moment the door clicked, the dam broke. Élise turned to Adriano, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and realization.
"I can't do this," she gasped, her voice cracking. "Adriano, let me go. Please."
She moved toward the door, but he stepped in her path, his frame blocking her exit. "Élise, listen to me..."
"No! You listen!" she cried, her hands trembling as she gestured to the empty room. "Your mother thinks I'm a weapon. Lucia thinks I'm a mistress. And your brother... your brother is haunting my apartment. I didn't ask for this! I came here for an internship, not to be the center of a family blood feud!"
"I am protecting you," he growled, his voice dropping to that low, terrifying register.
"Protecting me? You've trapped me!" She stepped closer to him, her face flushed with defiance. "If this is about the company, I'll resign. I'll sign whatever non-disclosure agreement you want. I'll move back to Paris tonight. Just let me out of this house. I don't want to be a part of this mess. I don't want to be the thing you use to hurt Pedro!"
Adriano grabbed her upper arms, not to hurt her, but to still her. The proximity was electric, his heat radiating through his shirt. "You think you can just walk away? Pedro is already in your head. He has your key, Élise. He has your photos. If you leave this house, you are walking straight into his hands."
"Then let him have me!" she shouted, tears finally spilling over. "At least he doesn't pretend to be a hero while locking me in a glass cage! I'd rather be unemployed and back in France than be a trophy in your war!"
Adriano's grip tightened for a fraction of a second, his eyes darkening with a raw, desperate intensity. He looked at her really looked at her and for a moment, the CEO was gone. There was only a man who was terrified of losing the only pure thing in his life.
"You are not a trophy," he whispered, his face inches from hers. "And you are not leaving. Resign if you must, but you stay here. Until he is gone. Until you are safe."
"Why?" she breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Why do you care so much if I'm an employee you barely know?"
"Because," he said, his voice dropping to a jagged, heated whisper as he pinned her against the kitchen island, "I have spent my whole life giving Pedro everything he wanted to keep the peace. But I am not giving him you. Even if you hate me for it."
He let her go abruptly, the sudden loss of his touch leaving her cold.
"The driver is waiting," he said, his back turned as he walked toward his study. "Breakfast is on the counter. Don't try the gate, Élise. It only opens for me."
She sank onto a stool, staring at the shattered glass by the fireplace. She was an intern with no job, a neighbor with no home, and a woman caught in the grip of a man who would rather destroy the world than lose a game.
And the worst part? She wasn't sure which brother was the most dangerous anymore.