The storm came without warning.
Thunder cracked over the Rossi estate, lightning spilling through the clouds like veins of white fire. The wind howled across the hilltop, bending the trees until they looked like they might break.
Amira was in Leonardo's office when the first alarm went off.
It wasn't loud — just a low, pulsing beep from the security system. She frowned and checked her phone. No message. No calls. Only silence.
Then the lights flickered.
"Leonardo?" she called, but the house swallowed her voice.
She tried again, louder this time. Nothing.
The smell hit her before she saw it — faint, bitter, unmistakable. Smoke.
She rushed to the window. Down below, near the garden wing, flames licked at the edge of the night — orange against the dark rain. Panic clenched her chest.
"Leonardo!"
She grabbed her phone and ran.
The hallways were dim, thick with shadows that stretched and twisted under the flashing lights. The smoke alarm screamed now, piercing and relentless. She coughed, covering her mouth as she hurried toward his study.
The door was open. Papers scattered across the desk, the lamp on its side, its bulb shattered.
But Leonardo was gone.
"Where are you?" she whispered, heart hammering.
⸻
The servants were already outside, shouting instructions, dragging buckets, calling the fire service. The flames were growing fast, crawling up the outer walls like something alive.
Amira ran out into the rain, her clothes sticking to her skin, her eyes stinging from the smoke. She scanned the chaos.
"Mrs. Rossi!" one of the guards called. "Mr. Rossi's car— it's not in the garage!"
"What?"
"He must've left before the fire started!"
She froze. Left? Without telling anyone?
Her mind raced. The security system, the broken lamp, the empty office — none of it made sense.
Unless he hadn't left willingly.
⸻
Two Hours Earlier
Leonardo sat alone in the study, a half-empty glass beside him, the same photo of Elise turned face-down on the desk.
The message on his screen was short, written in that same neat handwriting that had haunted him for weeks.
"Meet me at the old vineyard if you want the truth. Midnight."
He knew the handwriting. He had seen it in Elise's journals, her notes, the letters she wrote and never sent.
But Elise was dead.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. If it was a trap, he was walking into it willingly.
If it wasn't — if there was even a sliver of truth — he had to go.
He left the mansion quietly, his phone off, his mind a storm of what-ifs.
⸻
Back to the Present
By the time the firefighters arrived, half the west wing was gone. Amira stood under the rain, soaked to her bones, watching as the mansion that once seemed indestructible burned like a memory that refused to fade.
Someone handed her a blanket. She barely felt it.
Her thoughts were fixed on one question — where was Leonardo?
"Ma'am," a firefighter approached, removing his helmet. "We've contained the main fire. No casualties inside. But we found this near the gate."
He handed her a small object, charred at the edges — a phone. Leonardo's phone.
Amira's blood went cold.
The firefighter continued, "It looks like it was dropped on the way out. There's also a tire track heading toward the vineyard road. We've already contacted the police."
The vineyard.
The same place from Elise's photographs — the one she used to paint before her death.
The place she'd called "our last secret."
Amira's breath caught. Whoever had started the fire wanted Leonardo gone.
And they wanted her scared.
It was working.
⸻
Hours later, after the flames died and the estate was a mess of smoke and ash, Amira sat in what was left of the living room. The electricity was out; only candlelight flickered against the soot-stained walls.
Everywhere she looked, there were traces of Leonardo — his books, his scent, his chaos. And the empty space he'd left behind felt unbearable.
She reached for his phone again. It was locked, cracked from the fall. But when she pressed the power button, the screen blinked once before dying completely.
Then, suddenly, it vibrated.
A message appeared — one unread notification that hadn't been cleared before the crash.
Unknown: "He should've stayed away from the vineyard."
Amira's hands trembled. The timestamp was thirty minutes before the fire.
Her mind spun. Who would know that Leonardo had gone there? Who had access to both his phone and the estate?
The only answer that made sense was the one she didn't want to believe.
Someone inside.
⸻
She didn't sleep that night.
At dawn, the police arrived. Reporters tried to sneak past the gates. The house smelled of burnt wood and rain. The investigators moved around like ghosts, taking photographs, collecting fragments.
"Any news?" Amira asked the lead officer.
He shook his head. "No body, no vehicle. We've contacted nearby stations. If he left the property, he's off-grid."
Amira swallowed hard. "That's not possible. Leonardo doesn't disappear."
The officer gave her a look that said everyone disappears eventually.
When he left, she went upstairs, to the one place that hadn't burned — Leonardo's private room behind the study wall. The hidden one.
Inside, the air was untouched by smoke. She turned on the small lamp and froze.
On the desk was a black folder labeled "Project Elise."
Her pulse quickened as she opened it. Inside were photos, documents, and notes — all about the company's early years. But at the very bottom was something she'd never seen before: a copy of a police report dated five years ago.
Case Title: Elise Rossi — Accidental Death (Unresolved)
Filed by: Detective Daniel Hale.
Amira's breath hitched.
Daniel.
The same man from the photograph.
The same name Leonardo had said disappeared after Elise's death.
So he hadn't vanished — he'd been here the whole time, behind the investigation, behind everything.
Her mind connected the dots: the fire, the message, the vineyard.
It wasn't random. It was all a pattern — and Leonardo had walked straight into it.
She didn't even realize she was crying until a tear dropped on the paper.
"Don't you dare leave me like this," she whispered into the empty room.
⸻
Late Afternoon
The rain had stopped. A strange stillness hung over the mansion, as if the storm had taken something vital with it.
Amira stood by the window, watching smoke rise from the blackened garden. Her reflection stared back at her — pale, sleepless, determined.
If Leonardo was alive, she would find him.
If he wasn't… she would finish what he started.
Her phone buzzed again. Unknown number.
"The vineyard holds the truth. Come alone tonight."
No name. No address. Just the same voice in text.
Amira closed her eyes. Every instinct screamed trap. But she couldn't ignore it. Not now.
She changed into dark clothes, tied her hair back, and slipped Leonardo's ring onto her finger — not as his wife, but as the one person left who refused to let his story end in ashes.
⸻
Night again.
The vineyard lay on the outskirts of the city — an old estate surrounded by mist and silence. The vines were long dead, the soil cracked and empty. A single house stood in the middle, its windows glowing faintly under the moon.
Amira parked the car and stepped out. The air smelled faintly of smoke, the same kind that clung to her clothes.
She pushed the creaking door open.
"Leonardo?" she whispered.
No answer.
But someone was there. She could feel it — a shift in the air, a weight of presence.
Then, from the darkness, a voice. Deep, calm, and chillingly familiar.
"I didn't expect you to come alone."
Amira froze. "Daniel Hale."
He stepped into the faint light, older than the photo, sharper somehow — like time had carved the softness from his face. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"You've been busy, Mrs. Rossi."
"I'm not your Mrs. anything," she said coldly. "Where is Leonardo?"
"Alive," Daniel said, tilting his head. "For now."
Her heart lurched. "What have you done to him?"
He walked closer, each step deliberate. "Nothing yet. But you see, Leonardo made promises — to Elise, to me, to this company. He broke every single one."
"You set the fire," she realized. "You wanted to destroy what's left of him."
Daniel smiled again. "I wanted him to remember."
"Remember what?"
"That Elise's death wasn't an accident."
The room tilted. "What are you saying?"
"She didn't fall, Amira. She was pushed — and the person who covered it up was standing right where you are now."
For a moment, her breath stopped. "You're lying."
"Am I?" He held out a small silver drive. "This holds everything — the reports, the surveillance footage, the letters she never sent. Leonardo knew. He buried it. Just like he buried her."
Amira's voice trembled. "Why tell me?"
"Because he'll come for you next," Daniel said quietly. "Just like he came for her when she found out."
Before she could respond, a sound broke the air — the slam of a door, the echo of footsteps.
Leonardo.
He looked wild — mud on his shoes, rain in his hair, eyes darker than night. When his gaze landed on Daniel, something primal flickered behind it.
"You," he said. "I should've finished this years ago."
Amira's body went rigid between them. "Stop! Both of you—"
But it was too late. Leonardo lunged forward. The two men crashed into the table, the drive skittering across the floor. Papers flew, a chair broke, someone shouted her name.
Then — a gunshot.
Silence.
Amira's scream tore through the air.
Leonardo stood there, chest heaving, the gun shaking in his hand. Daniel lay on the floor, motionless, blood spreading across the wooden boards.
For a moment, none of them breathed.
Then Leonardo dropped the gun, eyes wide, horror dawning.
"What did you do?" Amira whispered, her voice breaking.
"I didn't mean to," he said hoarsely. "He— he was going to—"
"Save me?" she finished, tears streaming down her face.
"No. Destroy you," Leonardo said, his voice cracking. "He lied to both of us."
Amira looked down at Daniel's lifeless body. "And now the truth is dead too."
Lightning flashed outside, the storm returning with vengeance.
Leonardo turned toward her, face pale, rain glinting on his skin. "You have to believe me."
But Amira was already stepping back. "I don't know what to believe anymore."
The thunder swallowed his answer.
⸻
Later, as the sirens wailed in the distance and the vineyard glowed faintly with blue lights, Amira stood alone by the car, clutching the silver drive she'd found hidden under the table.
Whatever truth it held — about Elise, about Leonardo, about the lies buried beneath Rossi International — she would find it.
Even if it destroyed them both.
She looked back at the mansion one last time.
Through the smoke and rain, Leonardo's silhouette stood in the doorway — watching her, broken, unspoken words hanging between them.
For the first time since the day they met, Amira realized that love and ruin could wear the same face.
And hers was already half in shadow.