"Why was Isabella here?" Chiara asked suddenly.
Luca froze. Only for a second, but Chiara noticed.
She sat on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully now. Her fingers twisted lightly against the sheets as she held his gaze.
"I heard Emilio call for you earlier," she said softly.
Luca turned slowly to face her.
For the briefest moment, surprise crossed his face. Then it disappeared completely.
"Isabella came to apologize," he said evenly. "For what happened the other day."
Chiara stared at him quietly, as if waiting for him to say more. But Luca gave her nothing else.
The silence stretched between them.
Then he turned away and walked out of the room.
The door closed softly behind him.
Chiara remained seated on the bed long after he left.
Her thoughts tangled endlessly.
The villa suddenly felt heavier than before. She has so many questions but no one wants to give her answers. She hated it.
-
Later that morning, Chiara made her way to the villa for breakfast.
The grand dining room was already occupied.
Her steps slowed slightly as she entered.
Elena sat near the head of the table, elegant and composed as always. Luca sat to her right, expression unreadable while he focused on the meal in front of him. Marco lounged further down, looking bored and detached, his focus was on his phone. Isabella, sat by his left.
The Don's chair remained empty. Chiara noticed it immediately.
"He's having breakfast in his chambers," Elena said gently, as though sensing the question before it was spoken. "The doctor insisted he rest."
Chiara nodded softly and moved toward the table.
"Good morning," she said politely.
She greeted Elena first.
Elena smiled warmly. "Good morning, dear."
Then Chiara turned toward Marco.
"Good morning."
Marco only gave a short nod before returning to his phone.
Chiara tried not to let it bother her. Then she looked toward Isabella.
But Isabella ignored her completely as if she didn't exist.
A faint scoff escaped Isabella, followed by a dirty look that lasted only a second before she reached calmly for a glass of wine. Chiara felt the tension in the room.
Luca remained silent through all of it. He only looked up briefly and gave Chiara a small nod before returning his attention to his food.
Elena broke the uncomfortable silence.
"How are you feeling today, Chiara?"
Chiara forced a small smile.
"I'm fine."
Elena smiled back softly, though her eyes lingered on the faint healing cut on Chiara's arm.
"I'm glad."
Another uncomfortable silence followed.
Then Isabella cleared her throat delicately.
"My father is hosting a birthday celebration for my mother this weekend," she announced smoothly. "At our villa."
Marco looked mildly interested for the first time all morning.
Isabella continued, "He asked me to invite the family personally."
Elena inclined her head politely.
"That is thoughtful of him."
"He would have come himself," Isabella added, "but preparations have kept everyone occupied."
Elena nodded once.
"Well, unfortunately Vittorio will not be able to attend in his condition."
"Of course," Isabella said gracefully.
"But Luca and Marco will attend in his place," Elena continued calmly. "That should represent the family well enough."
Isabella smiled immediately. She looked directly at Luca. But Luca didn't return the look. He continued eating as if the conversation barely interested him.
Luca's phone vibrated on the table. He glanced at the screen once, his expression focused.
Without another word, he stood up abruptly.
"Excuse me," he said calmly.
Then he walked out.
Chiara's eyes followed him until he disappeared through the doorway.
-
Luca moved quickly through the villa corridors.
He walked towards the garage, his face set.
He reached for the car door, but Emilio appeared suddenly in front of him, holding his suit jacket.
"Boss," Emilio said immediately. "I'll drive."
Luca took the jacket from him.
"No."
Emilio frowned slightly. "You barely slept."
"I said no."
Luca opened the car door.
Before getting in, he paused briefly and looked at Emilio directly.
"Keep an eye on Chiara."
Emilio straightened instantly. "Always."
Luca nodded once before sliding into the driver's seat.
Moments later, the car sped out of the villa gates.
-
He pulled into the underground parking lot of a modern office building.
The moment he stepped out of the car, several people nearby straightened subtly.
Recognizing him.
Luca ignored the attention completely. He entered the building and crossed the polished lobby without hesitation.
The receptionist greeted him nervously.
"Good morning, Signor De Rossi."
Luca gave a brief nod and continued walking.
He stepped into the elevator alone.
The doors slid shut.
When the doors opened again, he was on the third floor and the atmosphere seemed professional and controlled.
Employees greeted him respectfully as he passed.
He acknowledged none of it. Finally, he stopped before a large office.
The inscription on the glass read:
LUCA DE ROSSI
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
A man seated near the desk stood immediately.
Tall, slightly older, dressed in an expensive gray suit.
The man smiled politely.
Luca crossed the room and extended his hand.
"Welcome, Mr. Giorgio."
The man shook it firmly.
"It's good to finally meet you in person, Signor De Rossi."
"Please," Luca said calmly, motioning toward the chairs. "Sit."
They both settled down across from one another.
A bottle of wine already rested on the table between them.
Mr. Giorgio glanced at it with visible appreciation.
"I've heard a great deal about De Rossi vineyards," he said. "Particularly your reserve collections."
Luca leaned back slightly.
"You've heard correctly."
A faint smile touched Giorgio's lips.
"I'm hoping this partnership becomes profitable for both of us."
"It will," Luca replied smoothly.
A secretary entered briefly with documents and glasses before leaving again.
The discussion shifted quickly into business.
To anyone watching, he looked every inch the polished businessman.
No trace remained of the man standing in a bloodstained cabin the night before with a gun in his hand.
Back at the villa.
After breakfast, Elena walked beside Chiara through the long corridor leading toward the eastern wing of the villa.
Sunlight filtered faintly through the tall windows, casting pale gold across the polished floors.
Neither of them spoke for a while.
When they reached the large double doors of the Don's chambers, Elena pushed them open gently.
Inside, Don Vittorio sat on a dark leather couch near the television.
The news played quietly on the television.
His posture was composed as always, but there was no mistaking the fatigue in his face now.
Elena approached him.
"Have you taken your medication?" she asked softly.
The Don didn't look away from the television.
"Yes."
His voice was deep, though slightly rougher than usual.
Then Chiara stepped forward politely.
"Good morning, sir."
The Don's eyes shifted toward her.
For a moment, he simply stared at her. His gaze swept over her briefly before he looked away again without answering.
The silence that followed felt sharp enough to cut. Chiara stood still awkwardly, her hands clasped lightly together.
"Chiara came to see how you were doing," Elena said calmly.
The Don's jaw tightened faintly.
Then, after a brief pause, he looked toward Chiara again and gave a short nod. Chiara forced a polite smile.
"I hope you recover quickly."
Again, the Don said nothing. His attention returned to the television.
Elena sighed almost invisibly before placing a gentle hand on Chiara's arm.
"Come," she said softly.
They left the room quietly.
The doors shut behind them.
Once they were back in the hallway, Elena slowed slightly. Then she reached for Chiara's hand. She held it gently for a brief moment before letting go.
A small smile touched her lips.
"Don't take it personally," she said quietly. "Vittorio has never been an easy man to understand."
Chiara nodded softly. Though deep down, the rejection still stung more than she wanted to admit.
Elena studied her face for a moment, then she smiled again.
"You should go and rest for a while," she said gently. "The villa can become overwhelming if you let it."
Chiara gave a small nod.
"Yes."
Elena squeezed her hand lightly one last time before turning and walking down the opposite corridor, leaving Chiara standing alone in the quiet hall.
Chiara remained standing in the hallway for a moment after Elena left. The silence around her suddenly felt unbearable.
Her throat tightened painfully as tears rushed into her eyes.
She blinked quickly, trying to hold them back.
No matter how much she tried to understand this family, she always ended up feeling like an outsider looking in. The Don's cold dismissal hurt more than she expected it to. Not because she needed his approval but because she loved Luca.
And she was beginning to realize that loving Luca meant standing in the middle of a world that did not want her there.
She lowered her gaze quickly and started walking toward their chambers before anyone could see the tears threatening to fall.
From the far end of the corridor, Marco and Isabella watched her retreating figure quietly.
Isabella folded her arms slowly.
"Well," she murmured.
Marco leaned lazily against the wall beside her, his expression unreadable.
"What's on your mind?" Isabella asked, glancing sideways at him.
Marco smirked faintly.
"I could ask you the same thing."
Isabella smiled.
"I found a way to make Chiara leave Luca."
Marco finally looked at her then.
One brow lifted slightly, amusement flickering across his face as though he didn't entirely believe her.
"Oh?" he drawled. "And what exactly do you know?"
Isabella's eyes darkened with calculation.
"She doesn't know about Luca's dark side."
Marco said nothing. But the faint smile on his lips deepened almost imperceptibly.
Isabella stepped closer slightly.
"She looks at him like he's some kind of perfect man," she continued softly. " She has no idea who he really is."
Marco said nothing, just stared ahead of him with that smile.
Then suddenly his phone vibrated. Marco glanced down at the screen.
Without another word, he pushed himself off the wall.
"I need to be somewhere."
He didn't even look at Isabella as he spoke.
Instead, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and started walking away down the corridor.
Isabella watched him go slowly, suspicion creeping into her expression. The smirk faded from her lips.
She knew that Marco de Rossi was many things, but careless was not one of them.
She waited for him to drive out before she entered her car and asked her driver to follow him.