The afternoon sun hung low, casting long shadows across the Moretti estate. The iron gates closed behind Damian's car with a soft mechanical hum, sealing them inside the quiet expanse of manicured gardens and marble fountains.
Alessia leaned back in her seat, exhaling softly as the car came to a stop in front of the main entrance.
"Thank you for coming with me," she said, turning to him.
He glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "You shouldn't be going anywhere alone."
Her lips curved faintly. "You make it sound like I'm in danger."
He didn't answer. He stepped out, walked around, and opened her door. She took his hand as she stepped down, her fingers brushing his briefly before she let go. The contact was fleeting, but it lingered in the air between them.
Inside, the house was cool and quiet. The faint scent of polished wood and fresh lilies filled the hall. Alessia set her shopping bags on the console table and turned to him.
"You should rest," she said softly. "You still look tired."
"I'm fine," he replied, loosening his tie. "I have a few calls to make."
She hesitated, studying him. "Damian… about last night—"
He looked up sharply, his eyes darkening. "No"
She nodded slowly. "Alright." Her voice was calm, but her heart ached at the distance in his tone. "I'll be in the garden if you need me."
He watched her walk away, her steps light against the marble floor. When she disappeared through the glass doors, he exhaled, running a hand through his hair. The memory of Isabella's smirk, the bitter taste of the drink, the way the room had spun — it all came rushing back. He clenched his jaw. Whatever she had done, whatever she had planned, it wasn't over.
Outside, Alessia wandered through the garden, the afternoon breeze tugging gently at her hair. The fountain murmured, the water catching the sunlight in silver arcs. She sat on the stone bench beneath the olive tree, closing her eyes for a moment.
For the first time in days, she felt a strange calm — fragile, but real.
She didn't see the car parked down the street beyond the gates.
Isabella sat behind the wheel, her sunglasses hiding the fury in her eyes. She had followed them all the way here, her pulse steady now, her anger sharpened into something colder.
The estate loomed before her, elegant and untouchable, a fortress of wealth and power.
She watched the gates, her fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. Through the iron bars, she could see glimpses of the garden — the flash of Alessia's white dress, the shimmer of sunlight on her hair.
Her lips curved into a slow, bitter smile.
So this was where she lived. This was the life she had taken from her.
Isabella leaned back in her seat, her mind already weaving possibilities. She had connections — people who owed her favors, people who could find out everything she needed to know. Where Alessia went, who she spoke to, and what she loved.
She would learn it all.
And then she would take it apart, piece by piece.
Inside, Damian stood by the window of his study, a glass of water in his hand. His gaze drifted toward the gates, a faint unease stirring in his chest. Something felt off — a presence, a weight in the air he couldn't name.
The street beyond the gates was still, the afternoon light soft and golden. But he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching.
Isabella started her car, the engine purring softly. She didn't drive away immediately. She lingered, her gaze fixed on the house beyond the gates.
"Enjoy your peace while it lasts," she murmured under her breath.
Then she shifted into gear and pulled away, her car gliding down the quiet street, leaving behind only the faint echo of her promise.
Inside the estate, Alessia rose from the bench, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She turned toward the house, unaware of the shadow that had just marked her.