Alessandra POV
When I woke up, it took me a few seconds to remember where I was. The bed was soft — too soft — and the air smelled faintly of roses and clean linen. Sunlight streamed through tall windows framed with ivory curtains, painting the room in gold.
For a moment, I thought I was dreaming. Then the memories hit — the police station, Jane, the plane, the silent car ride, the iron gates. Italy. The La Rosa mansion. My father. I sat up slowly, scanning the unfamiliar room. Everything looked... perfect. The walls were a pale cream, the furniture dark wood polished to a mirror shine, and near the window stood a small desk with a folded pile of clothes on top.
A note rested on them, written in neat handwriting: "Breakfast at 9. Don't worry, Elio doesn't bite (much). — Nico."
A small smile tugged at my lips.
The clothes — gray sweatpants, a soft black T-shirt, basket ball shorts and a zip-up hoodie — looked impossibly comfortable, though clearly not my size. I held up the hoodie and almost laughed under my breath. It could've fit two of me. Then again, I barely reached 5'1", while everyone else in this family looked like they were carved from marble and measured at least six feet tall.
Still, the hoodie smelled faintly of cedar and warmth — maybe Nico's cologne — and it was the first thing in years that made me feel... safe.
Before I could get dressed, I gathered a clean towel and slipped into the bathroom. The marble floor was cold beneath my bare feet. I turned on the shower and waited until the steam began to fill the air before stepping in. The water was hot — too hot — but I didn't care. It washed away the exhaustion clinging to my skin, the fear still curling inside my chest.
When I was done, I stood before the mirror, wiping away the fog. My reflection looked pale, tired... and bruised. The ache in my ribs reminded me of what happened that morning before everything changed — my mother's rage, my stepfather's fists. I'd almost forgotten the pain beneath all the chaos.
Quietly, I reached for the small first-aid kit I'd hidden in my backpack. I cleaned and rebandaged the cuts on my arm and side, moving slowly so I wouldn't reopen anything. Every sting was a reminder of what I'd escaped — and what I was never going back to. When I was done, I slipped into the soft sweats and hoodie. They swallowed me whole, but somehow... it felt nice.
The hallways outside my room were quiet, echoing faintly with the smell of coffee and something sweet. I followed the sound of voices until I reached the dining room — a massive space with sunlight spilling across the table.
There were pancakes, fruit, pastries — enough food for a small army.
At the head sat him — my father, Lorenzo. Calm, commanding, unreadable. Beside him were Alessandro and Emilio, their easy conversation halting when they noticed me. Across the table were the younger ones — Leonardo, Elio, and Nico.
I froze in the doorway, unsure what to do. Elio spotted me first. "There she is! Morning, principessa!"
Five pairs of eyes turned toward me. My throat tightened. Lorenzo's deep voice came next — gentle but firm. "Come in, figlia mia. Sit."
I obeyed, slipping into the chair beside Nico. Elio leaned forward, grinning. "Don't worry, the scary one only growls before coffee."
Leonardo gave him a warning glare that made him instantly straighten up. "See?" Elio whispered, mock fear in his tone, "Terrifying."
I almost smiled — almost.
Emilio looked at me kindly. "Sleep well?" I nodded and picked up my small whiteboard. 'Yes. Thank you. The room's beautiful.'
Leonardo raised a brow. "She writes fast."
"She's smart," Nico said simply.
Elio leaned over, reading the board upside down. "See? She likes it! I told you the room was perfect."
"You didn't do anything," Leonardo muttered.
"I supervised!"
Their teasing filled the silence, making the atmosphere lighter, easier. After a while, Alessandro asked, "Did you find everything you needed, Alessandra?"
I nodded and quickly wrote: 'Everything's perfect. Just... a little big.'
Elio grinned. "Right, forgot you're... what's the polite term? Fun-sized?" Leonardo groaned. "Don't call her that." But Lorenzo's voice came quiet and firm.
"She's small, not weak." The words hit something deep in my chest. I ducked my head, pretending to focus on my food.
For the first time in years, someone had called me small without meaning less.
After breakfast, the twins took me around the estate. The second floor was lined with bedrooms, arranged from oldest to youngest — Alessandro first, then Emilio, Leonardo, the twins, and mine at the very end of the hall.
The third floor was different — quieter, more formal. Lorenzo's office, meeting rooms, and workspaces for him, Alessandro, and Emilio. Across the hallway were several guest rooms, each one immaculate.
I couldn't help the thought that slipped into my head: Who even lives like this? Security gates, guards, a crest on the door... what are these people, royalty? Elio caught the expression on my face and laughed.
"Yeah, I know. A bit much, huh? You'll get used to it."
Nico, added, "It's for protection. Not show."
I nodded, though I didn't quite understand what kind of life needed this much protection. When we returned to my room, Nico set another folded set of sweats on my bed. "You can wear these until we go shopping tomorrow. They should be comfortable."
I held them up — the hoodie practically reached my knees — and I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. I nodded gratefully.
"See?" Elio said proudly, leaning against the doorframe. "She already looks like part of the family."
Nico gave him a look. "You mean because she's wearing our clothes?"
"Exactly." Their banter, easy and harmless, made the heaviness in my chest loosen a little. For once, I didn't feel like I was walking on glass.
Later that afternoon, a guard knocked softly on my door and told me that Lorenzo wanted to see me in his office. His office was on the third floor, lined with dark bookshelves and a massive desk. Sunlight slanted through tall windows, glinting off the gold rose crest carved into the wood.
He gestured for me to sit. "I know this is a lot to take in," he began.
"New home. New family. New country. But there are a few rules I need you to understand." I nodded, hands clasped in my lap. "First, you don't leave the estate alone. Not until I'm sure you're safe. Agreed?"
Another nod.
"Second, you can't come up to the third floor without our permission. most of our work is here and the security room, there is nothing much here."
I nodded.
"Third, your education." I hesitated before writing on my board:
'I already finished school.' His brows lifted.
"You did?" I nodded again. He leaned back slightly. "I didn't get anything about that from your social worker. she said you quit school when you were in middle school."
'I finished it privately online. I can show you the documents.'
"Ok, Then perhaps university?" He said.
I wrote: 'Maybe later. I just need some time.' He nodded, his tone softening.
"You'll have it. Tomorrow, you'll go shopping with Leonardo and the twins. Clothes, essentials, whatever you need."
I quickly scribbled: 'Do they always argue that much?'
A small chuckle escaped him — warm, almost amused. "Always."
He rose from his seat and walked around the desk, resting a careful hand on my shoulder. "I'm glad you're here, figlia mia," he said quietly. "Truly." Something in my chest tightened — unfamiliar but not unpleasant.
When I left the office, I paused in the hall. The sunlight hit the rose crest carved into the door — La Rosa.
My name now.
My family.
And maybe, just maybe, my beginning.