I wake up to the sound of rain tapping softly against the window, a rhythmic pattern that matches the steady thump of my heartbeat. I lie in bed for a moment, letting the cool, gray light seep into my room, trying to gather the courage to face another day. It's been a few days since Liam's birthday party, and I still can't shake the feeling of dread that settled in my chest when he told me he would go through with the divorce.I push myself out of bed and wander into the kitchen, the smell of freshly brewed coffee already filling the air. Odette, who's been staying with me for a few days, is perched on one of the stools, flipping through a magazine. She looks up and gives me a sympathetic smile."Morning, cherie," she says in her lilting French accent. "How are you feeling today?"I shrug, pouring myself a cup of coffee. "The same as yesterday, I guess. A bit numb, a bit lost."Odette closes her magazine and turns to face me, her expression softening. "I know it's hard, but you need t
The café is small and dimly lit, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. Natasha, Antonio, and I have been sitting here for about ten minutes, anxiously waiting for the man who claims to have information about my father, Enzo Conti, and Matteo. The tension is thick, making it hard to breathe. The hum of muted conversation around us does nothing to calm my nerves. I don't know if I'm ready for what I'm about to hear, but I have to be. It's the only way to find out what happened to them.Natasha taps her fingers against her coffee cup, her face set in a hard line of determination. "He'll show up," she says, though it sounds more like she's convincing herself than me. Antonio leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. His expression is unreadable, but I can see the worry in his eyes.Finally, the door opens, and a man in his late fifties walks in. He's wearing a dark coat, a cap pulled low over his face, making it hard to see his features. He scans the room briefly before h
I drive through the city streets, weaving through traffic as fast as I can without getting pulled over. Emma's phone call echoes in my mind, her voice shaking with something between anger and despair. She sounded like she was barely holding it together, and I knew I had to get to her as quickly as possible.When I finally pull up to the address she gave me, I see her standing outside a small café. She looks pale, her arms wrapped tightly around herself like she's trying to keep from falling apart. I rush over, my heart pounding, desperate to hold her, to make everything okay, even though I know I can't."Emma," I call out, my voice barely more than a whisper. She turns to face me, and I see the tears pooling in her eyes. Before I can say another word, I pull her into my arms, holding her as tightly as I can. The tears spill over, and she buries her face into my chest, her body trembling with each sob. I feel my own eyes stinging, guilt and anger warring inside me.How did we get here?
Ever since moving out of Liam's beach house, I've been staying with Odette in her quaint apartment. It's a cozy space filled with plants and pastel-colored furniture—everything Odette is: vibrant, lively, and comforting. I've been trying to piece myself back together, focusing on anything other than the whirlwind of emotions and the mess that is my life. Every morning, I wake up with a tightness in my chest, a blend of anxiety and hope. Today, however, feels different.I stretch under the soft, floral-patterned duvet, trying to shake off the grogginess of sleep. As I reach for my phone on the nightstand, I see an unread email notification that makes my heart skip a beat. I blink twice to make sure I'm not imagining things. The email is from my favorite art gallery in New York—Gallery Blue. With trembling hands, I open it.Dear Emma Conti,We are pleased to inform you that after reviewing your application and portfolio, we would like to offer you an internship position at Gallery Blue
Since Emma left for New York, a cloud of emptiness has settled over me. I knew her leaving would be tough, but not this hard. Part of me feels relieved that she's away from all the chaos my family has caused. She deserves a fresh start, a chance to rediscover herself without the shadow of the Carusos looming over her. Still, every day without her feels like a part of me is missing. I need to focus on the one thing I can control: finding out the truth behind the mess my family has caused.Today is the day I finally confront my mother. I've avoided this for too long, burying my head in the sand, hoping things would somehow resolve themselves. But Emma's discovery changed everything. I owe it to her, to Matteo and Enzo, and even to myself, to get to the bottom of this.I head to my mother's office, my mind swirling with thoughts. Isabella Caruso doesn't just sit around at home, even though she could if she wanted to. She practically runs the family's empire, always managing something, an
The hustle and bustle of New York City is unlike anything I've ever experienced. The constant noise, the hurried pace, the overwhelming sense of being in a place that never sleeps—it's all a shock to my system. I've been here for a few days now, trying to adjust to the culture shock and the drastic change from the life I knew back home. It's a whirlwind, and sometimes, I feel like I'm just barely keeping up.My new apartment is small, just a studio really, but it's in a decent neighborhood, and I've already made it my own with a few personal touches—some art pieces I couldn't bear to leave behind, a cozy throw blanket, and a small collection of plants. It's my little sanctuary in this massive, chaotic city, and I'm grateful for it.But today, I can't hide in my sanctuary. It's my first day at the art gallery where I'll be interning for the next six months. I'm both excited and nervous as I get ready, choosing a simple yet professional outfit. I want to make a good impression, but I'm
The days blur into weeks after Emma leaves for New York. Time passes, but I feel like I'm stuck in some sort of limbo, drifting aimlessly without a clear direction. My life has always been about control—controlling my surroundings, my image, my emotions. But now, with Emma gone and the weight of my family's secrets pressing down on me, everything feels out of control.I try to bury myself in work, hoping that the familiar routine of meetings, contracts, and deals will help me forget the chaos. But it's no use. Every time I close my eyes, I see Emma's face, the hurt in her eyes when she told me about the evidence, the way her voice trembled when she said goodbye. She's gone, and it's for the best, but it feels like a piece of me has been ripped away.The confrontation with my mother left me more confused than ever. Isabella's cold, detached confession plays on a loop in my mind. She admitted to the affair but claimed innocence in the disappearances. I want to believe her—desperately, I
New York's breeze nips at my face as I step out of my tiny apartment, blending into the crowd of fast-paced city life. Two weeks here, and I still feel like I'm pretending to be someone else. Everyone seems to know where they're going, and what they're doing, while I'm just… figuring it out as I go along.It's funny—moving here felt like a fresh start, but the truth is, it's hard to shake the past. Every time I walk through those gallery doors, I throw myself into the art, hoping it'll keep my mind busy. But thoughts of Liam are always there. I try not to think about the last time we saw each other. The confrontation. The goodbye.I shake the thought away as I approach the gallery. Today's going to be different. It HAS to be different. I remind myself I'm here to grow, to live my dream.The gallery is bustling with people as usual. I greet Rob at the entrance, the one person who's made this whole transition easier. He's waiting for me with his usual dramatic flair, arms crossed, and s