The day drags on in my office. Papers cover my desk, but my mind isn't on them. It keeps drifting to Emma. Ever since we returned from Tuscany, she's been on my mind constantly. It's annoying, frustrating even. She's different from anyone I've ever known, and that kiss… Damn, that kiss.A sharp knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts. I glance at my watch—almost noon. My assistant pokes her head in."Mr. Giovanni is here to see you," she says, her voice tight.Of course, he's back. I knew this was coming sooner or later. I straighten up in my chair, waving her in."Send him in."Marco Giovanni strides in like he owns the place, which, of course, he doesn't. Not anymore. He looks better than last time—cleaner, his suit crisp, and that infuriating smirk on his face like he's got a secret he can't wait to share.I don't stand, just motion for him to sit. He doesn't, hovering by the chair instead, his eyes scanning the room like he's looking for something to criticize."Liam," he sa
The city hums around me as I make my way to the art studio, a place I haven't visited in far too long. It's early, the streets are still quiet, and a sense of anticipation bubbles inside me. The studio was supposed to be my sanctuary, a place where I could pour my energy into investigating my father's disappearance. But now, it's become more than that—a reminder of how much my life has changed since Liam entered it.The studio is tucked away in a quiet part of Rimini, a little haven I'd once thought would be my retreat from the world. But as I approach the door, a strange unease settles over me. The feeling only intensifies as I unlock the door and step inside. The familiar scent of paint and canvas greets me, comforting, but there's something off. Something I can't quite put my finger on.I flick the lights on, eager to get lost in my work again, but as the room floods with light, my breath catches in my throat.Someone is here.Standing by the window, as if she owns the place, is Se
Dinner is tense, like we're both walking on eggshells. Emma's sitting across from me, poking at her food, barely eating. She gives me these half-hearted smiles that don't reach her eyes, and I know something's wrong. It's like she's trying to put up a front, but I can see through it. After everything we've been through, she should know she can't hide things from me, not anymore.I try to draw her out, but she's evasive. Her mind is elsewhere. It's frustrating because I thought we were past this, past the pretending and the hiding. I thought we were finally on the same page, but tonight, she's retreating into herself again.Out of nowhere, she says, "I'm going to visit my mother tomorrow."It's so abrupt that it catches me off guard. I nod, taking a sip of my wine. "Okay, I'll come with you.""No!" The word is out of her mouth before she can stop it, sharp and panicked. Realizing how she sounds, she quickly backtracks. "I mean, you don't have to. It's just a quick visit."My suspicion
I take a deep breath, letting the warm, comforting scent of the café wash over me, but it does little to settle the storm brewing inside. The past few months have been a whirlwind, and sitting here with Natasha feels like the calm before another storm. It's just the two of us today—no Odette, no Gia—just me and Natasha, my cousin, trying to piece together the puzzle that has haunted our family for years.Natasha sips her coffee, her eyes scanning the notes spread out on the table between us. "So, let's go over this again," she says, her voice steady but with an edge of frustration. "Your dad disappeared twenty years ago, and mine...eighteen.""Yeah," I nod, feeling the weight of those numbers. Two years apart, yet the disappearances felt like they were linked somehow. It's something we've both suspected for a while, but finding concrete evidence has been like chasing shadows.Natasha flips through one of the old documents, her fingers trembling slightly. "Antonio...he always believed
I'm at my desk, flipping through a stack of contracts, but my mind's not on them. My thoughts keep drifting, not toward work but to the woman who's upended my life in ways I never saw coming. Emma. I can't get her out of my head, no matter how hard I try. And maybe I'm not trying that hard anymore.The door swings open, and without even looking up, I know who it is. Only one person in this house walks in like they own the place—and maybe she still thinks she does."Mother," I say, my voice flat. I set the papers aside, knowing this wasn't going to be a pleasant visit."Liam," she responds, her tone as cold as ever. She takes a seat across from me, her posture rigid, always in control. But I can see the tightness in her jaw, the way her eyes narrow just a fraction. This isn't just a casual drop-in."We need to talk," she starts, her eyes locked onto mine."About what?" I ask, though I already know the answer."About Emma," she says, her voice dripping with disdain. "This... influence s
I'm sitting by the window in the living room, staring out at the garden, but not seeing anything. My mind is miles away, back in that café with Natasha, unraveling every word, every possible connection between our fathers' disappearances and the Caruso family. It's all tangled up, like a knot I can't quite untie, and the more I pull at it, the tighter it seems to get.Matteo, my uncle, disappeared two years after my dad. Two years of what? Planning? Hiding? Running from something? And then there's the car accident that killed Natasha's mother—an accident Antonio, Natasha's older brother, is convinced wasn't an accident at all. He said it once, called our fathers murderers, with so much venom in his voice that it stuck with me, playing on repeat in my head.I shiver, the thought sending a chill down my spine. If Antonio's right, if what he suspects is true, then what does that mean? And how deep does this go?I'm so lost in thought that I don't even hear the door open. When I finally n
I have different versions of the same nightmare every night. No matter how the details shift, they all lead back to the same moments—the same terror. It's always me, 15 years old, standing in that room, holding a gun I never wanted to touch, let alone fire.The smell of whiskey and stale air fills my nose, clinging to the walls like a memory that won't fade. My father's voice—no longer the strong, commanding tone I once admired—comes out slurred and angry, the words twisted by alcohol and years of bitterness. He's not the man I used to look up to; he's a stranger, lost in his rage and addictions."Liam, do it! Do it now!" My mother's voice pierces the air, sharp and desperate. Her eyes are wide, filled with a fear that sends chills down my spine. I see it all again, the way she looked at me that night—like I was her only hope, like if I didn't act, we would both be lost.My father is advancing, a knife in his hand, his eyes wild with a madness that has nothing to do with the man he us
I've spent the last two weeks in a whirlwind of confusion and anxiety. Liam's been distant, even more than before. It feels like we're back at square one—him, always away, always busy, always brooding. It's like Tuscany never happened. I thought we'd turned a corner, that there was something real between us, but now I'm not so sure. His eyes don't linger on mine anymore, his touch is cold, and his smiles feel forced as if they're more out of obligation than genuine emotion.Tonight, I've had enough. I can't keep doing this—wondering, waiting, feeling like a fool. I decide to visit him at his office. Maybe if I confront him, I can get some answers, or at least figure out what's going on in that complicated head of his. If I can just see him, and talk to him, maybe things will start to make sense again. Maybe he's just under pressure, dealing with something he hasn't told me about. But deep down, there's a gnawing doubt, a voice whispering that things have changed between us, and not fo
I glance at the clock and my heart starts racing. I'm late."Okay, stop fussing!" I scold my bridesmaids, but I can't help the nervous laugh that escapes my lips as Gia fluffs my veil for the third time. Natasha is running around, making sure every single detail is perfect, while Odette is already dressed and helping the makeup artist add the final touches to my lips.And then there's Rob. He's pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath, "You're going to be late for your wedding, Emma. Of course, you are. I knew it. I knew this would happen!""Rob," I groan, rolling my eyes. "You're not helping!"He stops pacing and dramatically places his hands on his hips, his eyes full of fake indignation. "Excuse me, darling. Who has been by your side through every single dress fitting, cake tasting, and meltdown?"I chuckled despite myself, the tension easing just a little. "I love you, Rob.""Yeah, yeah, yeah," he mutters, coming over to adjust my gown. "But seriously, we need to get movi
The darkness is heavy, but slowly, painfully, it starts to lift. I feel a strange tug in my chest, and I'm aware of the beeping sounds, the sterile scent of the hospital filling the air around me. My eyes flutter open, and the brightness of the room stings my vision. It takes a few moments for everything to come into focus.Where… where am I?"Liam?" A soft voice calls out to me, and when I blink again, I see Lilian, Emma's mother, standing by my bedside, her eyes wet with tears. "Oh my God, you're awake."I try to speak, but my throat feels like it's on fire. Instead, I groan, my hand instinctively reaching out to grasp hers. Lilian smiles through her tears, gently squeezing my hand."You've been in a coma, sweetheart," she says softly. "For a while now. But don't worry, you're okay. You're going to be okay." Her smile wavers for a moment before she adds, "Emma… she's at the station with your mother, confronting Serena. But she's fine. She's been by your side every day."My mind race
The silence in the room is deafening. Isabella stands before us, her posture rigid, her hands clasped together tightly as if she's holding on to a secret too heavy to bear. My mom and I sit across from her, the tension thick between us, suffocating."There's something you both need to know," Isabella begins, her voice wavering slightly. I glance at my mom, who looks pale, her fingers tightly gripping the arms of the chair. "I've held onto this for years, but it's time you hear the truth. About Enzo."At the mention of my father's name, my heart skips a beat. I feel my stomach churn as I wait for her to continue. Isabella takes a deep breath, then says the words that make my world tilt off its axis."I knew him."The words hang in the air like a weight, pressing down on me. My mom's face pales even more, her lips trembling as she absorbs the shock of the revelation. Isabella presses on, her eyes filled with a mixture of shame and regret."Enzo and I… we had an affair."The room goes co
The beeping of the heart monitor is the first thing I hear, steady and rhythmic, pulling me from the darkness that has consumed me. My body feels heavy like I'm being held down by invisible weights, and there's a dull ache spreading across my chest and limbs. The sterile smell of the hospital fills my nostrils, and it takes a moment for me to remember where I am.I blinked, squinting against the harsh fluorescent light above, trying to make sense of my surroundings. As my vision clears, I notice my mom, slumped over in a chair next to me, her head resting on her crossed arms, fast asleep. Her face looks worn, more tired than I've ever seen her.I try to sit up, but a sharp pain shoots through my ribs, forcing me to wince. The memories hit me all at once—the truck, the crash, Liam's bloodied face. Panic rises in my chest, and I gasp, "Liam."My voice is weak, barely more than a croak, but it's enough to wake my mom. Her head snaps up, her eyes widening as she sees me. "Emma!" she cries
We're curled up on the couch, the flicker of the fireplace casting warm shadows on the walls. Liam has been quiet all evening, his usual playful mood replaced by a somberness I haven't seen before. I know something's wrong. The weight of his silence presses down on me, but I don't want to push him, not yet.Eventually, he breaks the silence."Emma," he says quietly, his voice strained. His eyes are red and teary, and my heart aches just seeing him like this. "We need to talk."I sit up, my chest tightening. "Liam, what's going on? You're scaring me."He doesn't look at me, his gaze fixed on the fire. His hands tremble, and I gently place mine over his, trying to calm him, to let him know I'm here, whatever it is."I'm a monster," he whispers, his voice breaking. "I've done terrible things, Emma. Things I can't undo."I freeze, my heart hammering in my chest. "Liam, what are you talking about? You're not a monster."He shakes his head, his eyes squeezed shut as if the memories are too
I lean back in my office chair, glancing out of the large windows that overlook the city humming with life. It's been a perfect week, just me and Emma, no distractions, no obligations. We've spent our days exploring the city, enjoying quiet dinners by candlelight, and getting lost in each other's company. For the first time in a long while, I felt completely at peace.But now, it's back to reality. Back to work. And as much as I hate to admit it, the tension in the air is thick. I've barely been at my desk for half an hour when my mother storms into the office, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floors. Right behind her, Serena follows with a face full of barely contained rage. Great. Just the pair I didn't want to see today."Liam!" my mother snaps, her voice slicing through the silence of the room. "We need to talk."I sit up, bracing myself. I knew this was coming. Ever since Emma returned, I've been waiting for the inevitable confrontation. My mother never approved of E
I step off the plane, my heart racing with excitement and nerves. It's been months since I last set foot in Italy, and the anticipation of seeing Liam again has my stomach in knots. He thinks I'm arriving tomorrow, but I can't wait. My internship is officially over, and now I'm here, ready to surprise him.Odette is waiting for me just outside baggage claim, her signature oversized sunglasses perched on her head, and a wide grin stretching across her face. Beside her, Natasha and Gia are waving excitedly, their energy contagious. The second I step through the doors, I'm swept into a whirlwind of hugs, laughter, and excited chatter."Girl, you look amazing!" Gia says, her eyes sparkling as she gives me a once-over. "Internship did wonders for you.""I agree," Natasha adds, her arm looped through mine as we start walking toward the car. "Liam is going to lose his mind when he sees you."Odette, always the ringleader of the group, claps her hands together. "Alright, ladies. Time to make
The phone rings, and Emma's name lights up the screen. My heart skips a beat. I pick up, trying to keep my voice steady, but as soon as I hear her voice, soft and warm, I feel a smile tugging at my lips."Hey," she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice too. "I just got the flowers. A hundred roses, Liam? Really?"I chuckle, leaning back in my chair. "Too much?""No," she says quickly, a slight laugh in her tone. "It was perfect. You know, everyone at work is completely jealous. Rob hasn't stopped squealing since they arrived.""I'm glad you liked them," I say, feeling the tension in my chest loosen a little. "I wasn't sure if a hundred was over the top, but... I needed you to know how serious I am.""I know," she says softly. "And I love them. They're beautiful."There's a pause, a comfortable silence settling between us. I close my eyes, just listening to her breathe on the other end of the line. Even through the phone, the connection between us feels so strong, so real. It's h
Monday hits me like a freight train. After a long, emotionally charged weekend, the idea of being back at work feels surreal. I sit at my desk, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of me, barely registering the flurry of emails that have piled up in my inbox. My body is here, but my mind is still somewhere else—somewhere between the memory of Liam's arms wrapped around me and the question that's been gnawing at me since we parted: 'Should I go with him?'Italy. Home. The idea stirs something deep inside me. I miss it—the warm cobblestone streets, the smell of my mom's hair, the laughter of my friends. But this internship is my dream. It's everything I've worked for, and it's not over yet. This is my life now. But, God, it's hard not to wonder what it would be like to be with Liam every day, no distance, no uncertainties. Just us."Okay, spill."Rob's voice breaks through my thoughts, snapping me back to reality. He's leaning against my desk, arms crossed, his eyes alight wi