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Chapter 8 - Chapter 6 – Shattered Frames and Subtle Sparks

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Chapter 6 – Shattered Frames and Subtle Sparks

The morning sun filtered through the marble-framed windows of the Valentini Pictures headquarters in Rome, casting soft golden hues onto the hardwood floors. The production building, sleek and pristine, buzzed with quiet anticipation. A new day. A new project. And for Leonardo Moretti, it was a new battlefield.

Leonardo sat in his top-floor office, the view of the Tiber River sprawled beneath him like a painting. He stared into the distance, his caramel-toned skin glowing subtly under the warm light, his crisp white shirt rolled at the sleeves. A folder lay unopened on his desk — the audition shortlist. But his mind was elsewhere.

A part of him still reeled from last night's confrontation with Celestina.

He had confronted her — directly, for once — about the rumors. The ones he'd tried to ignore for far too long. Whispers about her and a rival producer, their shadows interlaced behind closed doors, smiles too familiar at award shows. When she didn't deny it, when she simply laughed and turned her back to him... something inside Leonardo cracked.

And yet, like a fool, he still found himself aching for her. For what they were. Or maybe what he thought they were.

A soft knock broke the silence.

"Enter," Leonardo said, his voice low.

Elio, his assistant, stepped in. "Sir, she's here."

He didn't need to ask who.

Leonardo stood, smoothing his hand down his trousers. "Send her in."

The door opened wider and in walked her — Aurora Russo.

The moment she entered, it was as if the world had paused for a breath.

Dressed in a soft lavender blouse tucked into high-waisted cream trousers, her pinkish-pale skin glowed like moonlight, and her hazel-blue eyes darted around the office with a mixture of awe and hesitation. Her figure was petite yet poised, movements graceful and unsure all at once. Her presence was nothing like Celestina's — no manufactured charm, no over-rehearsed smile. Just raw authenticity.

"Mr. Moretti," she said softly.

He nodded, gesturing toward the leather chair across from him. "Please. Call me Leonardo."

Aurora hesitated but sat down, perching delicately on the edge of the seat.

"I saw your screen test," he said, finally opening the folder. "It was… unexpectedly good."

Her brows raised slightly, surprised. "Thank you."

He studied her. "You're inexperienced."

"I am."

"But something about you," he leaned forward, "feels real. You don't act — you become. That's rare."

Aurora flushed. "I've always loved stories. I grew up watching your movies. It feels unreal to be here."

Her voice had a melodic cadence, soft but not weak. There was something grounded about her — a steadiness beneath the surface, like an uncut diamond.

Leonardo tilted his head. "Why this film? Why now?"

Aurora's fingers tightened slightly around her purse strap. "Because I want to prove that I can stand on my own. I'm not here to be famous. I want to become someone that I can be proud of."

A strange emotion stirred in him — admiration. And something deeper… more dangerous.

Just then, Elio reappeared. "Sir, Miss Celestina is downstairs. She's demanding to come up."

Leonardo's jaw clenched. The storm returned to his eyes.

He turned back to Aurora. "Do you have anywhere to be in the next hour?"

She blinked. "No."

"Good," he said, standing. "Come with me. Let's see how you handle chaos."

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Downstairs Lobby – Valentini Pictures

Celestina Monroe stood near the entrance, her arms crossed, radiating fury and elegance in equal measure. Her fair skin was flawless, lips painted a bold red, and icy blue eyes fixed on the elevator.

When the doors opened, Leonardo stepped out first. And behind him — Aurora.

Celestina's gaze narrowed.

"Who the hell is she?" Celestina hissed, the smile vanishing from her face.

Leonardo didn't flinch. "She's the lead in La Notte Senza Stelle."

"What? Are you out of your mind?" Celestina snapped. "That role was supposed to—"

"It was never yours," he cut her off coolly. "You were never even considered for this film."

Aurora stood awkwardly to the side, unsure whether to walk away or vanish altogether.

Celestina's smile twisted bitterly. "So this is how it ends? After everything?"

Leonardo's expression darkened, but he kept his voice composed. "No. This is how it begins. For her."

Celestina laughed bitterly. "You'll regret this, Leo."

"Maybe," he said quietly. "But at least it'll be an honest mistake."

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Later That Night

Back in his penthouse, Leonardo poured himself a glass of scotch. The city lights blinked below, but his gaze was elsewhere — lost in the echo of Celestina's words and the image of Aurora's eyes filled with quiet strength.

He was drawn to Aurora in a way he hadn't expected — not just for her beauty, but for her soul. And that scared him. Because while he could predict betrayal, manipulate deals, and survive violence — the feeling of hope was his most dangerous enemy.

And yet… something in him whispered:

Let her in.

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Leonardo barely touched his drink. The amber liquid sat untouched in the crystal tumbler on the sleek black marble counter, reflecting the city's glimmering skyline behind him.

Rome never really slept — especially not for a man like him.

As he watched the streetlights cast halos over cobblestone alleys far below, the doorbell rang. He wasn't expecting anyone. And few people dared to come uninvited.

He pressed a button. "Who is it?"

"It's me," came the hesitant voice. "Aurora."

He paused.

After a beat, he buzzed her in.

Moments later, she stepped inside. Her hair was loose, curled from the breeze, cheeks slightly flushed. She had changed into a soft wool cardigan over a dress — simple, but delicate. She looked nothing like the celebrities he usually saw in his world. No diamonds. No perfume cloud. Just her — real, vulnerable, breathtaking.

"I'm sorry to show up unannounced," she began, voice low. "But… I needed to ask you something. In person."

He gestured toward the living room. "Come in."

Aurora looked around slowly. The place was luxurious but not loud. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A grand piano. An antique chessboard near the fire. Books. Real ones. Not props.

"This doesn't look like a mafia lord's lair," she teased lightly, trying to ease the tension.

Leonardo chuckled softly. "Good. That means the disguise is working."

She looked at him curiously. "Can I ask you something? Something real?"

He met her gaze and nodded.

"Why me?" she asked. "Why did you pick me when you could've chosen anyone — someone more experienced, more… famous?"

He stared at her, his voice low, controlled. "Because I see something in you that the others lost trying to be perfect. You don't hide your scars. You wear them like armor."

Aurora looked down. "But I'm terrified. I feel like I'm stepping into something too big."

"You are," he said honestly. "But sometimes, fear means you're exactly where you need to be."

She sat beside him on the velvet couch, not too close, but not far. "Have you always been this intense?"

He smirked faintly. "No. There was a time I laughed more. Slept better. Trusted easier."

"What happened?"

He glanced away, the smile vanishing. "My father died when I was seventeen. Not by accident. Not by illness. But because someone chose to end his life."

Aurora's breath caught.

Leonardo continued, his voice a shade darker. "After that, I stepped into shoes I wasn't ready to fill. Business during the day. Blood at night."

The room fell silent.

She whispered, "You don't look like a man who belongs in that world."

"And yet I do," he replied. "It's all I've ever known."

She searched his face. "And the film world? Is that your way out?"

He looked at her, something flickering in his eyes. "No. It's the only place I feel human."

They sat in silence. And then, without thinking, Aurora reached out and gently touched the scar near his temple — thin, faint, but unmistakable.

"Where did this come from?" she asked softly.

He didn't move. "Knife. Wrong alley. Right enemies."

She frowned. "You should be dead."

"I was supposed to be."

Her fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary before she pulled back. "Then why are you still alive?"

Leonardo didn't blink. "Maybe because I hadn't met you yet."

The air between them thickened.

Aurora stood abruptly, nervous energy rising. "I should go."

He rose too. "I'll walk you down."

---

Underground Parking Garage – Nightfall

The hum of fluorescent lights echoed off the concrete walls. Leonardo's driver waited near the sleek black Maserati.

But before Aurora stepped inside, she turned to him. "Thank you. For today. For seeing me."

Leonardo looked down at her — so small, yet something about her presence filled the room.

"You've got fire," he said. "Don't let them put it out."

She smiled, shy but sincere. "Good night, Leonardo."

As the car pulled away, he stood in the shadow of the building, heart beating slower than usual, but heavier too.

He didn't know what Aurora would become — whether she'd ruin him or rescue him.

But for the first time in years, he wanted to find out.

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Elsewhere That Same Night – Villa Sereno

High up on the cliffs of Amalfi, another meeting was taking place in a candlelit study filled with cigar smoke and hushed voices.

A man in a white linen suit leaned back in a leather chair, swirling wine in his glass. Sharp features. Crooked smile. Cold, calculating eyes.

He tapped a photo on the table.

Aurora Russo's face stared up.

"She's the one?" he asked.

A second man nodded. "Confirmed. She's close to him now."

The first man grinned. "Then she's the key. Not Celestina."

"What do we do?"

He raised his glass. "We wait. And when the time is right… we burn him from the inside."

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