The Romano mansion never slept. Even at night, the guards paced the iron gates, the lights in Don Romano's study burned, and the sound of whispered strategy drifted down the halls like a haunting lullaby.
Alessia stood by her bedroom window, watching the city of Florence shimmer in the distance. It had been only two days since her return, and yet, the air already felt heavy — as if the ghosts of old wars still lingered in every corner of her home.
Downstairs, her father's voice broke the silence. "You don't understand, Alessia," Don Romano said, his tone sharp. "The De Lucas are not men you reason with. They're snakes — and their son is no different."
Alessia turned from the window, descending the stairs with quiet grace. "I understand enough," she replied. "You think keeping me away from danger will make it disappear. It won't."
Don Romano's piercing eyes met hers. "You've been gone a long time. You don't know what Lorenzo De Luca has become. He's clever — manipulative. He hides behind Marco Vitale's influence like a coward. But he's the one who pulls the strings."
"Then I'll learn how to cut them," she said simply.
Her father sighed, rubbing his temples. "You're strong, yes. But strength without caution destroys families, Alessia. I've already buried too many memories because of that name — De Luca."
The name hung between them like smoke — toxic, unforgettable.
Later that night, the estate was quiet again. Or at least, it should have been. Alessia sat at her desk, going through old family files when a faint noise caught her attention — a rustle, like footsteps outside her balcony.
She moved silently, her heart steady, her senses sharp. Pulling back the curtain, she saw the faint outline of a figure beyond the gates. Tall. Still. Watching.
The guards hadn't noticed yet. Whoever it was, he wasn't ordinary. His stance wasn't that of a thief — it was deliberate, observant.
For a brief second, the moonlight touched his face. She couldn't see him clearly, but she saw enough: confidence, composure, and a stillness that sent a chill down her spine.
Then, as if feeling her gaze, the figure turned and disappeared into the darkness.
By the time the guards reached the spot, there was no one there.
Alessia's hand tightened around the curtain. She didn't know his name yet, but something deep inside her whispered it anyway– Lorenzo
And even though she had never met him, she already felt it — the kind of connection that only existed between enemies.