Alessia stood frozen as her gaze collided with Luca's.
She hadn't heard his car horn, hadn't heard the gates open, she heard nothing.
He just appeared like a shadow, silently slipping into the bedroom, his broad shoulders filling the doorway.
Her heart skipped, tangled in both shock and guilt.
She swallowed hard, forcing a tremor-laced smile.
"Hi… y-you came home early. I didn't even hear your car horn," she stammered, her hands fluttering midair as though caught red-handed stealing something invisible.
Her eyes darted instinctively toward the wardrobe.
The very wardrobe she had just rummaged through.
The very wardrobe hiding the diary she wasn't supposed to see.
"Oh… erm..... " Her throat felt dry. "The wardrobe, I was just… cleaning. You see, my towel... "
But she realized too late her hand was empty. No towels.. Only nerves.
She bent swiftly, scooping up the white fabric she had dropped earlier, brushing it against his leg with trembling fingers.
