LOGINShe was standing in the dim storage room, her hand slipping the confidential file she’d found back into the pile of old paperwork just as Lorenzo De Luca stepped in fully his eyes darting all over the room. His sharp gaze swept over her, then the room.
“What are you looking for?” he asked, his voice low and unreadable. Natalie kept her expression calm, her pulse wild beneath her skin. “Nothing important,” she said lightly, turning to face him. He didn’t press. His eyes lingered on her for a long second, unreadable. “You’re closing early today,” he finally said. “We have somewhere to go. You should go home and get dressed. I've spoken to Marina already. " “Where?” she asked, suspicious . He didn’t answer. He simply walked away. Natalie exhaled shakily, heart pounding. Whatever he was hiding, she was getting closer. Rushing to conclusions at this point won't be profitable. She had to find more information. She returned to her desk, quietly gathered her things, and allowed herself to be driven back to the estate. As soon as she stepped out of the car, the chill in the air wasn’t from the weather. Leila. She stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, face twisted in disdain. Natalie heaved not ready for her antics. “When are you leaving this house?” she spat." my brother doesn't love you. I hope you know? " Natalie didn’t answer .She made to walk past her, unwilling to talk to her. But Leila grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her back. “I’m talking to you, you spoiled, useless—” The slap came sharp and sudden. Leila staggered back, one hand to her cheek, eyes wide in shock. She was lost for words. “Touch me again, and next time I’ll break your arm, those high school antics are over Leila." Natalie snapped, breathing hard. “You bitch!” Leila lunged. The two women collided like lightning—scratching, kicking, clawing. A vase shattered. A chair toppled. The mansion echoed with the chaos. The servants looked on. What were they supposed to do? And no one was in the house. “Enough!” Lucian’s voice rang out as he rushed into the room, yanking Leila away from Natalie's brutal hits. Both women heaved, breathing hard and furious. Natalie’s hair was a mess, her cheek slightly red, but her opponent wasn't any better. Her whole face was a mess. “She’s lucky,” Natalie seethed, glaring at Leila. “Next time I won’t be so merciful.” she growled and went up the stairs. Lucian Only sighed and watched her as she turned and stormed upstairs. Leila, stunned and battered, slumped into the armchair. Lucian bent beside her, gently wiping the blood from her lip. " you shouldn't be doing this, if Lorenzo finds out.... "he let it trail. "but she hit me first! "she protested. Lucain raised a brow. "really? " Leila looked away. "I was only asking her when she would be leaving our house. I don't want to keep seeing her face. "She flinched as he dressed her wounds. “Take it easy, Leila,” he murmured. Natalie was in her room, stripping off her ruined blouse, when Anita entered with fresh clothes. The young maid helped her change, dabbing at her light bruises with a cold cloth. “You’re good at this,” Natalie said, watching her through the mirror. Anita gave a small smile. “You’re not the first fight I’ve patched up. I bet Leila is worse of than you." She smiled through the pain. Natalie turned. “You’re American, aren’t you? It's nice to see a familiar face without all these Italian freaks in my face." Anita smiled and nodded. “I think so. I don’t really remember. I’ve been here since I was little.” Natalie frowned. “How did you end up working here?” “My mother worked here,” Anita said softly. “She died giving birth to me. The older housekeeper took me in when Mr. De Luca’s parents wanted to send me to an orphanage. She has been taking care of me ever since. I'll introduce you to her one of this days. Natalie’s heart twisted. There was something haunting in her eyes. She could relate. They were both orphans in this cruel world. "what do you say about being my personal maid? ” she asked with a small smile. Anita blinked, surprised. “Really?” “yeah, you don't have to attend to anyone other than me” she said. Anita squealed and hugged her. Then pulled away as if realizing. Natalie smiled. "it's okay ." A knock interrupted them. The butler’s voice called, “Mr. De Luca is ready, ma’am.” Natalie finished dressing, hiding the bruises well, and followed the butler downstairs. Lorenzo stood by the door, sharp in a tailored black suit. His eyes immediately scanned her face. “What happened?” he asked, stepping closer, his hand reaching for her face. She turned away. “Leila,” Natalie replied simply. His eyes narrowed, a muscle ticking in his jaw, but he said nothing. Instead, he opened the car door for her. The drive was short. But when they arrived, Natalie’s breath caught. A restaurant. Five star . Elegant, candlelit, quiet. Was this a business dinner? And he needed her to play wife? She looked at him. “What is this?” He gave the faintest smirk. “I’m taking my wife out.Am I not allowed to? " Her eyes widened. “Why?” “Because I want to.” he leaned towards her. "Because I can. And you are my wife." "bought wife.. " she countered. He smiled and took her hand. "You are still mine. " Her hands tingled where he held her. They were seated in a secluded booth, warm lighting casting golden shadows around them. She watched him as he ordered for them both, effortlessly commanding even in silence. Halfway through the meal, she leaned in. “Anita... she told me a bit about her past. Is it true?” Lorenzo nodded. “Her mother worked for us. Died during childbirth. My parents didn’t want her, but the old housekeeper stepped in.” “She’s been here ever since?” Natalie asked. “She’s like furniture to this house. Quiet, forgotten, but always there.” he said indifferent. "That's quite an inhuman way to refer to a living being. " Lorenzo raised a brow. Natalie hesitated. “I want her to be my personal maid ” Lorenzo looked at her, eyes unreadable. Then he nodded. “Fine. Let's see it compensation for bringing you here without any friends or familiar faces." Natalie rolled he eyes. "everything dosen't have to be a stake or come at a price." Lorenzo smiled. " but it does ,Mia moglie. " She opened her mouth to bring up the files—what she’d seen, what she now suspected—but before she could,a voice interrupted them. “Well, isn’t this charming." Natalie turned. Esmeralda. She looked like a model out of a glossy magazine, all red silk and cold looks. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. "You should leave Esmeralda, I'm having a peaceful dinner with my wife as you can see. " Lorenzo said not lifting his head to spare her even a glance. She fumed. “How long do you plan to keep up this charade, Lorenzo?” she purred. “You haven’t even consummated the marriage. Is it going to be like the others? You shouldn't waste the young girl time. " Natalie froze. The air turned ice cold. Lorenzo stood slowly, napkin falling to the table. His face was unreadable. He reached out and took Natalie’s hand. He gave Esmeralda a chilling look. She looked uncomfortable. “You just reminded me of something important ” he turned to Natalie. " Let's go Cara, we have a long night ahead of us." Natalie’s breath hitched. Was he really?..... Esmeralda’s smirk faltered. She turned to him. "Lorenzo..... " He didn't answer. Without another word, Lorenzo turned and led Natalie out of the restaurant. They reached their car and entered. "you were joking when you said that right? " she asked as the car started. He gave her a lazy smile. "no, I wasn't. " She flinched. And sat back quietly. They reached the estate and entered. Lorenzo kept his hands firmly on her. As if trying to prevent her from running. They entered her room and he sat down, unbuttoning his shirt. "so, Mia moglie. How is it going to be? " Natalie panicked.She found Lucian in the garage.He was standing beside his car with his keys in his hand and a bag at his feet, the kind of bag that said he had already made a decision before she got there. He looked up when he heard her footsteps and something in his expression settled, not relief, not quite. The look of a man who had been waiting without knowing he was waiting."You're leaving," she said."Thought it was best," he said.She looked at the bag. Then at him."Lorenzo asked you to go," she said. Not accusatory. Just placing it."Lorenzo didn't have to," he said. "I was there, Natalie. I saw his face in that doorway." He turned the keys over in his hand once. "There are things you do to people you love without meaning to and there are things you do knowing exactly what they'll cost. Last night was the second kind." He looked at her. "I'm not going to keep costing him things."She stood with that for a moment."Where will you go?" she asked."I have a place," he said. "I'll be fine. I'm
Dinner was a performance.That was the only word for it. Two people seated across a table, passing dishes, pouring water, existing in the same room with the practiced ease of people who had done this many times except that tonight something sat between them that neither of them named, a presence as real as a third person at the table, eating all the food and saying nothing.Lorenzo was courteous.That was the worst part.Not cold in the obvious way, not clipped or short or visibly withdrawn. He asked her how her afternoon had been. He mentioned something Anita had sent over about the shop. He refilled her glass without being asked. Every gesture was exactly what it should have been and not one degree warmer, and she sat across from him and felt the distance like a physical thing, like a drop in temperature in a room where the windows hadn't moved.She had tried to speak to him on the stairs.She had caught him in the hallway before dinner and said his name and he had turned and looked
Her little nemesis found her , or rather she found him in the library.He was actually reading, legs stretched out on the old leather sofa near the window, a book open across his chest, the afternoon light falling across him in the particular lazy way it did in that room at that hour. He looked unbothered. Comfortable. Like a man with nothing on his conscience and nowhere pressing to be.She had always found that quality in him disarming.Today it just made her tired."Lucian," she said.He looked up. Saw her face. Closed the book."You look like you've had a day," he said."Several," she said. She came and sat in the armchair across from him not close, not pointed, just the nearest available seat. She had told herself on the way down the stairs that this would be a simple conversation. Necessary but simple. She would say what needed saying and he would hear it and that would be that.She was already sensing it wasn't going to be that."I need to talk to you about something," she said
Lorenzo told her everything in the kitchen. Not in the study where strategy lived. Not at the long table covered in files and photographs and carefully organized plans. The kitchen. Morning light spilled through the windows, pale and quiet. A cup of coffee sat untouched between them, already going cold. Somewhere outside, gravel shifted softly beneath the gardener’s rake. Ordinary sounds. Ordinary light. And then Lorenzo told her that Viktor knew she was the witness. Not recently. Not because of some mistake they’d made. He had always known. Natalie stared at him without speaking as the words settled heavily into the room. But it was the next part that changed everything. Lorenzo told her he had known too. Before the wedding. Before the contract. Before she ever stepped into this house. The reason he had taken her away from Viktor Roman on what was supposed to have been her wedding day had never been convenience or business or even strategy. It had bee
The call came on a Friday morning while Lorenzo was shaving.Later, when Natalie tried to remember that day, that was the detail that stayed with her most vividly. Not the conversation itself. Not even what came after.Just the ordinary beginning of it.Lorenzo standing at the bathroom mirror with one sleeve rolled up, jaw tilted slightly as he dragged the razor down his face. Morning light spilling across the tiles. The soft hum of the house waking up around them. A completely normal morning.And then his phone lit up on the counter.She was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on her shoes, when she noticed him stop.Not dramatically. Just… still.His hand hovered for half a second before he picked up the phone and looked at the screen.“Viktor,” he said.His voice didn’t change at all.That was what unsettled her most.No tension. No surprise. No hesitation. Just the same calm tone he used for everything else, as though the name had cost him nothing to say.Natalie had learned b
The thing about fire was that it didn't announce itself. It didn't send word ahead. Didn't knock. Didn't give you the courtesy of preparation. It simply appeared in the smallest, most ordinary place, a curtain hem, a forgotten candle, a wire that had been fraying quietly for years and by the time you smelled the smoke, it had already decided how much of your life it intended to take. Esmeralda had always understood this. It was, in fact, the principle she had built her entire strategy upon. --- The story appeared on a Tuesday. Not a major publication she wasn't ready to go that large yet, didn't want the kind of scrutiny that came with size. A mid-tier gossip platform, the sort that dealt in implication rather than fact, in the carefully worded suggestion rather than the outright claim. The kind of place that understood how to say something devastating while technically saying nothing at all. The headline was brief. *Questions Around De Luca Bride's Past: Sources Speak.* Bel
The attack, though repelled, left an unsettling residue. Lorenzo tightened security, his movements more watchful, his gaze more intense. He still pursued the truth of Marco’s death, still pressed Natalie for memories, but there was a subtle shift in his approach. The urgency was still there, but
He carried her, not towards the door, but deeper into the room, towards the opulent, king-sized bed that dominated the far wall. Each step was a deliberate, powerful declaration, her body swaying with his rhythm, her face buried in the crook of his neck, inhaling the intoxicating musk of his skin,
"Fortunes? what fortunes? is it...." her voice faltered. "don't pretend like you don't know?" Lorenzo said rolling his eyes. "your inheritance... that's the fortune they have always been following." he said. “Why would they… my own family…” she trailed off. “Greed, Natalie. Pure, unadulterated
The studio transformed into a war room. Hours bled into each other, marked only by the shifting light outside the tall windows and the increasing complexity of the air around them. Natalie moved with a practiced grace, her movements precise, almost ritualistic. She dipped glass droppers into tiny,







