17

Caterina

My stomach twists as I drive through the front gate, the same unease I’ve felt every night for the past few weeks. The guards let me in without question—by now, they’re accustomed to my comings and goings. They seem pleased to see me, like I belong here.

Except for one person. The one I’ve barely seen since that night in his office. The one I can’t stop thinking about.

As I look at the house, it seems to grow larger with each turn of the wheel. It feels like a gilded cage. I could leave any time; Dad would let me move in with him without hesitation. But that would be trading one cage for another, and at least this one offers space and freedom—though that freedom feels more like an illusion. Gianni may not interrogate me or control my every move, but his presence still looms over me. It’s all a trade-off in the end.

I have the freedom to come and go as I please, so why do I always end up back here after picking up dinner? I could hang out with colleagues from the office or vis