Seraphina's POV
I wake up in the Vitale penthouse, the silk sheets cool against my skin. The bedroom's huge, with a glass wall showing the city skyline. Luca's gone from the couch where he slept, and I'm alone. My head's spinning from last night, his secret envelope with the Calabrese crest locked in that drawer. I need answers, but first, I need to figure out this place. It's not a home. It's a fortress.
I slip into a simple dress and head out. The penthouse is all steel and glass, so different from the Calabrese estate's warm wood and ivy. A maid's cleaning the hall, her eyes down. "Morning, Mrs. Vitale," she mumbles. "Mr. Luca says to show you around."
I nod, but my stomach twists. Mrs. Vitale. It sounds like a trap. "Sure," I say. "Let's go."
She leads me through the place, living room, kitchen, gym. Everything's shiny, too perfect. Then we hit a locked door. "What's in there?" I ask.
The maid hesitates. "Office. Family only."
I raise an eyebrow. "I'm family now, right?"
She fidgets, then unlocks it. Inside, it's dark, with a big desk and screens on the wall. The screens are on, showing live feeds, my family's estate. The chapel, the garden, Papa's office. My heart pounds. Why are they watching us?
"Who sees this?" I ask, my voice sharp.
The maid shrugs. "Mr. Luca. His mother, maybe."
I stare at the screens, my hands clenched. This isn't an alliance. It's spying. Luca's not just hiding things. He's playing a game, and I'm the prize.
I find Natalia in the kitchen, sipping coffee. Her red hair's messy, but her eyes are sharp. She's in a silk robe, looking like she owns the place. "Morning, sister-in-law," she says, her voice sweet but not kind. "Sleep well in your new cage?"
I grab a mug and pour coffee, keeping my face blank. "It's gilded, at least," I say, matching her tone. "Beats a dungeon."
She laughs, but it's cold. "You're quick. But don't get comfy. Luca's got plans, and you're not in them."
My grip tightens on the mug. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Natalia leans closer, her voice low. "He's not the prince you think. Ask him about his late-night calls. Or don't. Your funeral."
She stands and walks out, leaving her coffee behind. My mind races. Late-night calls? Is she talking about that man from the wedding, the one with the silver hair? I need to talk to Luca, but I can't just ask. He'll dodge me like always.
I'm back in the living room when Isla walks in, holding a tablet. She's got her glasses on, her curly hair tied back. "Mrs. Vitale," she says, all business. "Mr. Luca's in a meeting. He asked me to get you settled."
I study her. She's too stiff, like she's hiding something. "Thanks, Isla," I say. "What's he meeting about?"
She doesn't blink. "Business. You know how it is."
I nod, but I don't believe her. She's too close to Luca, always watching. I need to know what she knows. "Can I use his office? I need to make a call."
Isla hesitates, then nods. "Sure. Follow me."
She leads me to the office with the screens. They're off now, but I can't shake the image of my family's estate on them. Isla hands me a phone. "It's secure," she says, then steps out.
I don't call anyone. Instead, I check the desk. The drawer where Luca hid the envelope is locked, but there's a stack of papers on top. I flip through them, nothing interesting, just bills. Then I notice Isla's tablet on a chair. She left it behind. My heart skips. I shouldn't, but I do.
I tap the screen. It's locked, but there's a notification: Phone records accessed, G. Moretti, 2:17 a.m. My blood runs cold. G. Moretti. The man from the wedding? Luca's meeting him in the middle of the night? This isn't business. It's betrayal.
I hear footsteps and shove the tablet back. Isla walks in, her eyes narrowing. "Everything okay?" she asks.
"Yeah," I say, forcing a smile. "Just couldn't get the phone to work."
She nods, but I can tell she doesn't buy it. She grabs her tablet and leaves, and I'm left with a sinking feeling. Luca's not just spying on my family. He's working with someone else. And I'm not his wife, I'm his pawn.
I'm pacing the bedroom when Luca finally shows up. He's in a suit, his tie gone, his hair a little messy. "Miss me?" he asks, his grin too easy.
I cross my arms. "Where were you?"
He shrugs, loosening his cuffs. "Meeting. Boring stuff."
I step closer, my voice low. "Boring like spying on my family? I saw the screens, Luca."
His grin fades, but he doesn't flinch. "Those are for security. Your father knows about them."
I laugh, sharp and bitter. "Does he know about your late-night meetings? Or that envelope with our crest?"
His eyes harden, just for a second. "You're digging, Seraphina. Be careful what you find."
I hold his gaze. "I'm not scared of you."
He steps closer, so close I can smell his cologne. "You should be," he says, but his voice is soft, almost sad. "Not everything's what it seems."
My heart pounds, but I don't back down. "Then tell me what's real."
He looks at me, long and hard, like he's deciding something. Then he steps back. "Get some rest," he says. "Big day tomorrow."
He leaves, and I'm alone again, my mind spinning. He's hiding something big, and I'm not just going to sit here. I need to find that envelope. I need to know who G. Moretti is. And I need to know why Luca's playing me.
Later, I'm in the gym, trying to burn off my anger. The penthouse has everything, treadmills, weights, even a punching bag. I'm hitting it hard when Dante calls. I answer, keeping my voice low. "What's up?"
"Sera, something's off," he says, his voice tight. "I heard Papa talking. They're moving money, fast. Like they're scared."
My stomach drops. "Scared of what?"
"I don't know," he says. "But it's tied to the Vitales. You need to watch Luca. He's not one of us."
I nod, even though he can't see me. "I know. I'm working on it."
"Be careful," he says. "I'm coming to the city tomorrow. We'll figure this out."
We hang up, and I hit the bag harder. Luca's not just a liar. He's a threat. And I'm stuck in his house, playing his wife, while my family's in danger.
I'm back in the bedroom, pretending to read, when Luca comes in. He's got a glass of whiskey, and he looks tired. "You're still up," he says, sitting on the couch.
"Can't sleep," I say, closing the book. "Too much on my mind."
He nods, like he gets it. "This life's not easy, Seraphina. But you're tougher than you look."
I laugh, but it's hollow. "You don't know me, Luca."
He looks at me, his eyes serious. "I'm trying to."
For a second, I almost believe him. His voice is soft, and his face looks open, like he means it. But then I remember the screens, the envelope, the name G. Moretti. He's not my husband. He's my enemy.
I stand, heading for the bed. "Good night, Luca."
He watches me go, his glass still in his hand. "Night," he says, but it sounds like a promise.
I lie down, my heart racing. I'm not just married. I'm trapped. And I need to get out before it's too late.
I'm almost asleep when there's a knock at the door. I sit up, my pulse jumping. Luca's already on his feet, his hand on the gun tucked in his waistband. "Who is it?" he calls.
"Maid, sir," a voice says. "Got something for Mrs. Vitale."
Luca opens the door, and a young woman steps in, her hands shaking. She holds out a small, yellowed photograph. "Found this in the laundry, ma'am," she says, looking at me. "Thought you'd want it."
I take it, my fingers cold. The photo shows a toddler, me, I think, with dark curls. I'm sitting on a woman's lap, smiling. But the man next to her isn't Papa. He's got sharp features, dark hair, and eyes that make my skin crawl. I don't know him, but I feel like I should.
"Thank you," I say, my voice barely a whisper. The maid nods and hurries out.
Luca's watching me, his face unreadable. "What's that?" he asks.
I close my hand around the photo, my heart pounding. "Nothing," I lie. "Just an old picture."
But it's not nothing. It's a crack in everything I thought I knew. And I'm starting to think I'm not who I thought I was.