The morning light crept softly through the curtains, brushing against Alessia's face. She stirred, her eyes opening slowly to the quiet hum of the house. The air still carried the faint scent of last night's dinner — and the echo of laughter she wished she could forget.
She sat up, her hair falling loosely over her shoulders, her mind replaying the image she'd tried to push away — Valeria's arms around Damian, his easy smile, the warmth in his voice.
Her chest tightened again. She rose from the bed and crossed to the window. The garden below glistened with dew, the world outside calm and bright, so unlike the heaviness inside her.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Come in," she said quietly.
Damian stepped inside, already dressed for the day. His tie hung loose around his neck, his jacket draped over one arm.
"You're awake," he said softly.
Alessia nodded. "Barely."
He hesitated, then smiled faintly. "I didn't want to leave without telling you. I have to step out for a bit — I have something to handle."
She nodded again, her voice even. "Okay."
He lingered for a moment, as if waiting for her to say more. When she didn't, he crossed the room and brushed a hand against her arm. "Don't stay locked up here all day."
"I won't," she said, though she wasn't sure she meant it.
He gave a small nod, then turned toward the door.
"Valeria's downstairs. She'll be around if you need anything."
Alessia's lips pressed into a thin line. "Right."
He paused, studying her for a moment longer, then left. The sound of his footsteps faded down the hall, followed by the distant hum of the car engine outside.
Silence filled the room again.
Alessia stood by the window, watching as the car disappeared beyond the gates. The quiet that followed was sharp, almost too loud.
She turned away, her reflection catching in the mirror — calm face, tired eyes. She exhaled slowly, pressing her palms against the edge of the dresser.
Downstairs, faint movement stirred –Valeria's voice, light and easy, speaking to one of the staff.
Alessia closed her eyes.
She told herself she didn't care. That it didn't matter who Valeria was or how easily she fit into Damian's world.
But the ache in her chest said otherwise.
After a while, she left her room, her steps slow, careful. The scent of coffee drifted through the hallway, warm and rich.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw Valeria sitting alone at the dining table, sunlight spilling across the polished wood. A cup of coffee steamed beside her, untouched for the moment as she flipped through a magazine.
Valeria looked up when she noticed her. "Good morning," she said brightly. "You finally decided to come down."
Alessia's tone was polite. "Morning."
"Damian already left," Valeria continued, her voice smooth. "He said he had some things to handle."
"I know," Alessia replied, moving toward the table.
Valeria smiled, gesturing to the seat across from her. "You should eat something. I had the chef make breakfast for both of us."
Alessia hesitated before sitting. "You didn't have to."
"I wanted to," Valeria said easily. "It's nice to do something normal. Feels like home."
Alessia's fork paused mid‑air. "Home?"
Valeria nodded, her eyes softening. "I used to visit this house when I was younger. It hasn't changed much."
Alessia studied her quietly. "You've been here before?"
"Years ago," Valeria said, smiling faintly.
"Before Damian moved in. Before everything changed."
The words lingered between them, heavy with something unspoken.
Alessia looked down at her plate, her appetite gone. "I didn't know that."
Valeria shrugged lightly. "There's a lot you don't know about him."
Alessia's gaze lifted, sharp now. "And you do?"
Valeria met her eyes without flinching. "I grew up with him. I know the kind of person he is."
The air between them tightened. Alessia set her fork down carefully. "Then you must know he doesn't like people prying into his life."
Valeria smiled, unbothered. "I'm not prying. I'm remembering."
Alessia stood, her voice calm but cold. "Enjoy your breakfast."
She turned and walked away, her pulse quickening as she climbed the stairs.
In her room again, she closed the door and leaned against it, her breath uneven. The conversation replayed in her mind — Valeria's tone, her confidence, the way she spoke about Damian like she had a claim to him.
Alessia pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady herself. She didn't know what bothered her more — Valeria's words, or the truth that maybe she wasn't wrong.
The house was calm and quiet, Damian was gone. And for the first time, Alessia realized she was alone in the house with the one person she least wanted to be near.