The house was silent — not the kind of peaceful quiet you enjoy, but the heavy, disturbing silence that makes one uncomfortable and restless.
It was past midnight. I couldn't sleep after finding that picture in my mum's drawer.
Santino De Luca
The name echoed like a bell in my mind sending shivers down my spine, tangled with the man's black-and-white photo. My mother had never mentioned anyone with that name. Not once. Not even in the stories she used to tell me about her time in Italy.
And yet there he was… staring at the camera with a gaze that could kill a person from a mile away. His appearance screamed power but not in a good way.
I needed to breathe. I needed something to keep my mind busy.
So, I put on my fluffy sippers while wearing a silk nightdress and a robe to cover up. I stepped out of my room and walked down the hallway, past Erica's door — It seems Jace stayed over for the night because Erica was moaning very loudly.
Which was ew! by the way.
The grand piano room my mum got for me was waiting for me like it always did. My sacred sanctuary. The only place in this house that didn't reek of fakeness, garbage or overpriced designer bullshit.
I sat down, letting my fingers hover above the keys, and exhaled.
Then, I played.
Soft at first then haunting minor progression. I played something sad and honest. Something that pleaded to be heard.
The room hummed with the sound. It echoed off the glass windows, wrapping around the dark velvet walls. My nightgown slid up as I swayed with the rhythm, revealing more thigh than any good girl should at this hour — not that I cared about it.
I closed my eyes to feel the rhythm in my soul.
Until I felt a presence behind me.
Someone was watching me.
I stopped playing. My pulse quickened until I looked over my shoulder and saw Jace standing by the doorway.
His presence was so irritating. Always there to intrude my personal space.
He was shirtless but wearing basketball shorts that hung a lil bit too low on his hips. Arms crossed, muscles glistening with sweat like he'd just finished a workout or maybe fucking Erica.
No wonder I was hearing moans when I passed her room.
I still had feelings for Jace but they were slowly fading away, maybe it's because I don't want to keep holding onto my past.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, his voice low and husky. Sounding unpleasant to my ear.
I didn't answer. Just slowly turned back to the piano.
"You play like you're battling emotions," he said, stepping into the room. "Dark ones."
I kept my fingers on the keys, not playing, not moving. "How does that concern you?"
Jace leaned against the side of the piano, close now. Too close.
"Your hands," he murmured, watching them, "they move like you're telling stories that needs to be heard."
I turned my head. Our eyes locked.
"You left your quick fuck to come invade my space." I said coolly. "Does Erica know you're here?"
"So you heard that," He laughed, low . "She's asleep. Or faking it."
Silence.
"You ever think about what it'd be like... if things were different. If we were given a chance?"
I arched a brow. "You mean to say if I were with you, a cheating bastard with a Playboy personality and a brand deal?"
Jace's lips curled. "Damn. You're feisty tonight."
"I've always been," I said, standing. "You just weren't paying attention. You have a model by your side so why would you?"
We were inches apart now as he sat on the bench. His gaze dropped to my thighs, then slowly and boldly rose back up to my lips.
My breath hitched, which surprisingly shows he still has an effect on me. I let him look. Let him have his fill. Let him see what he can never have.
Then I leaned in, brushed my lips against his ear, and whispered, "Keep staring, Jace. One day, you'll beg to touch what can never be yours."
He sucked in a breath like I'd slapped him back to reality.
And then I walked out of the piano room, leaving the temptation and danger behind me. I can't afford to keep letting him come close to me, it could break the shield I built.
---
The next morning, Bianca's mood was strange.
She looked pale and tense. Her coffee untouched.
I sat across from her at the kitchen island, studying her. She kept tapping her pen on a notebook filled with scribbled notes and messy handwriting, which was unusual for her since she was always composed and poised.
"Something bothering you mum?" I asked.
She flinched like I had asked a sensitive question. "No, why?"
"You look scared, like you had seen a ghost or something."
Her eyes flicked to mine — and for the first time, I saw fear and discomfort in her eyes but it disappeared as quickly as it came.
"Don't be dramatic," she muttered, standing abruptly. "I have a deadline for a particular book."
"Who's Santino De Luca?"
Her cup dropped. Spilling all the content on the floor.
Bianche froze. Her hands trembling and her face looking terrified.
"You went through my things," she whispered.
"Your drawer was opened and I didn't know I wasn't allowed to explore my own mum's office."
She stared at me — cold, distant, almost like I'm a stranger.
"Forget that name, Mia."
"Just answer the question."
She clenched her jaw. " You can't understand what you're asking."
"Then explain it."
She was silent. The only sound that was heard was coffee dripping on the marble floor.
"Just forget the name, Mia." She snapped.
She then gasped, sounding shocked by her own voice.
"Please Mia, not yet." She said quietly, and left the kitchen.
So there was something big she was hiding from me.
I left the kitchen without another word and went straight back to my room, but my mind raced. I didn't know what the hell Bianca was hiding, but one thing was clear — it had to be something about me since she never hides anything from me.
I was angry at her but I don't know why. Is it because she has started keeping secret or something else.
It sounds like a dangerous topic.
And my nosy ass is obviously going to find out what it is.