"Who's Leo?" Ethan asked.
Ava startled, her eyes almost welling with tears. Without a word, she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the room, motioning for him to sit down. She took a deep breath before speaking.
"After our first meeting, I headed to Monaco for work. I ran into Leo a few times before I even let him talk to me. He's relentless... because he likes me. He asked me out multiple times, but I refused because I don't date famous people."
Ethan interrupted before she could continue. "Wait. He's famous? I don't even know him." His voice carried a hint of jealousy.
Ava tilted her head, clearly unimpressed. "Don't lie. He's been all over Milan these past few days. It's freaking Leo Vargas -Clairmont! And stop interrupting."
Ethan crossed his arms, feeling irritated.
"Long story short," Ava continued, "I went on a date with him for a full day, and he asked me out again." She looked at him as if pleading for understanding.
Ethan scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "And what exactly do you want me to say?"
Ava sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "I like you, Ethan, but more as a friend. I don't have feelings for you the way you do for me. But I do care about you—and I want to be there for you, especially with everything happening with your family." She hesitated before reaching for his hand. "
"Please. Can we at least still be friends?" she said.
Ethan stared at her for a long moment before finally nodding. Even if she didn't see him as more than a friend, she was right—he could use one. And Ava was a damn good listener, even if she challenged him at times. Then, Ethan raised his eyebrows.
"So, from now on, you 're my friend, and I'm yours. We can talk about anything, yeah?" Ava said, smiling.
Ethan nodded, agreeing. If this was the only way he could keep her in his life, then so be it.
A doctor came in to check on him, giving him the all-clear to be discharged that evening. Ava practically jumped in excitement, giggling.
"We need to celebrate! I have to introduce you to my friends—aka my staff. Bring Luca! Maybe your parents, and also your—" Ethan cut her off, placing a hand on her phone before she could start making calls.
"Just me and you first, yeah? As friends." Ethan said.
Ava paused, then nodded, smiling warmly.
Still, as much as he wanted to accept this arrangement, he couldn't ignore the disappointment settling in his chest. Ava had chosen Leo—but Leo wasn't here, he was. And that meant something.
After Ava left to see the nurse outside, Ethan pulled out his phone and texted Luca. "Luca, Can you please find out everything you can about Leo Vargas-Clairmont. He's an F1 driver. Send me the details, his history, and etc. You know the drill."
The next morning, Luca responded, as Ava, she's busy handling medicine and doctor's appointment after signed his discharge papers,
Meanwhile, Ethan read the message sent by Luca. "Here's Leo Vargas-Clairmont's detailed biodata, boss."
Leo Vargas-Clairmont's background
Full Name: Leonardo "Leo" Vargas-Clairmont
Age: 26 years, 9 months, 18 days
Date of Birth: August 3rd, 1997
Nationality: Mexican-British
Ethnicity: Mixed (Mexican & British)
Parents: Carmen Vargas (Mexican) & Louis Clairmont (British)
Zodiac Sign: Leo
Birthplace: Cordobas, Spain but abandoned at Caritas di Macerata with a birth certificate.
Current Residence: Monaco
Occupation: Formula 1 Driver
Team: Maddon Crew (2018 - 2024), Ferrari (signed but not announced yet)
Height: 5'10" (178 cm)
Hair Color: Dark brown
Eye Color: Blue-brownish
Body Type: Athletic, lean but muscular
Childhood: Grew up in an orphanage until age 17. James Maddon took him under his wing and trained him for F1. Debuted at 21.
Love Life: No long-term relationships. Dated several models, including Fiona Barron, Lily Chee, Sophie Mudd, Inka Williams, and Bella Harris. Recently mentioned Ava Sinclair in an interview and was seen on a date with her at Lake Como last Monday.
Hobbies: Racing, partying, cars, thrill-seeking activities, possibly art collecting.
Awards: Winner of the 2024 Monaco Grand Prix, Autosport Award (2024), Overtake Award (2023), First Runner-Up at the 2022 Australian Grand Prix, Third at the 2023 Italian Grand Prix.
Ethan scrolled through Leo's pictures. The man looked mature yet effortlessly intimidating. The type everyone assumed was a reckless playboy. He locked his phone just as Ava walked in with his signed discharge papers.
"Let's get out of here, Vescovi," she grinned. He chuckled and changed into casual clothes Luca had brought him.
After leaving the hospital, they stopped at a local restaurant before heading to Ava's apartment. Having endured hospital food for two days, they ordered generously—pesto pasta, garlic bread, mushroom pizza to share, seafood ravioli, and beef lasagna. They ended the meal with a shared plate of tiramisu .As they ate, Ethan found himself watching Ava, unable to deny what he was feeling. This wasn't just a passing crush. He liked her. Really liked her. Even Ava caught him staring more than once.
"So, Sinclair," Ethan cleared his throat, changing the subject, "when are you going to start decorating my penthouse?"
Ava arched her brow. "So I'll officially be your designer again? HAHA Okay, okay.. I'll come tomorrow. I also need to check in with my staff about Palazzo and my other projects. Maya's been handling things, but she's better at delegating than actually doing the work." She popped the last piece of tiramisu into her mouth and sipped her chamomile tea.
Ethan nodded in understanding, after finishing eating, Ethan then drove her home.
As she stepped out of the car, she waved. "Don't forget to rest and eat properly, Vescovi."
He smiled as she disappeared inside.
Back home, his parents and Lydia were waiting. After greeting them, he excused himself to rest but his mind was already made—he would meet his biological father in Calabria this Friday. Talking with Ava makes him realize that he needs to be grateful and embrace fate as it comes. 'Let see what happens next.'
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Friday Morning – Calabria, Italy
Ethan, Luca, his adoptive parents, Lydia, and a team of bodyguards boarded a private jet under the muted hum of the hangar lights. The departure was silent, each person buried in their own thoughts. Two hours later, the jet touched down in Calabria, and a convoy whisked them away to a secluded Airbnb bungalow on the outskirts of town.
Inside the warm-lit living room, maps and documents were spread across the dining table. Luca leaned over them, his brow furrowed.
"So," Ethan said, scanning the papers, "how do we even get in? Luca says security's tight, and he doesn't exactly welcome unannounced visitors."
Luca tapped the folder in front of him. "I've prepared documents—legitimate enough to pass an initial check, but vague enough not to raise flags. If they question us, we have a plausible reason to be there. But when the time comes…" He looked Ethan dead in the eye. "Let me do the talking." Ethan gave a short nod.
The next afternoon, a matte grey Maybach S680 Mansory wound its way up the long drive to an old, meticulously maintained castle. The air shifted as they approached the wrought-iron gates; guards in tailored black suits and dark sunglasses stood at rigid attention, rifles slung over their shoulders. The heavy gates swung open, revealing manicured gardens and a towering façade of weathered stone.
A pair of butlers stepped forward, followed closely by two young women—identical at first glance, but with subtle differences in posture and expression.
"Hello," the first one said coolly. "I'm Giuliana Lara Marchesi, and this is my twin sister, Arianna Zara Marchesi."
Ethan's jaw tightened. So these are my half-sisters.
He stepped forward, voice steady. "I'm Ethan Vescovi. These are my parents, Delilah and Bruno Vescovi, my assistant, Luca Albertoz, my security team… and my birth mother, Lydia Engkeranji."
A deep, commanding voice cut through the moment. "Did you say Lydia Engkeranji?"
A broad-shouldered man emerged from behind the butlers, his presence filling the space. His features were carved sharp, his beard precise, and his eyes—piercing, cold—mirrored Ethan's own.
Luca leaned in just enough for Ethan to hear. "Boss… he looks like you. Just… older."
Ethan's stomach tightened.
"Lydia…" the man's voice softened, almost breaking. "Is it really you?"
Tears welled in Lydia's eyes. "It is me, Vitto."
The man strode forward and enveloped her in a tight embrace, the kind of hold that spoke of years lost. When he pulled back, his gaze locked on Ethan.
"Vitto," Lydia said gently, "I came here because I want you to meet our son. Enzo Matteo Marchesi."
For a long moment, silence blanketed the hall. Then Vitto stepped forward and gripped Ethan's shoulders. "My son? Ah…my son!" His voice cracked before pulling Ethan into a firm, almost crushing hug.
Ethan's body stayed stiff, though Lydia's hand on his arm kept him from stepping back.
"How?" Vitto asked, disbelieving, lacing every word.
Lydia recounted the same story she'd told Ethan in the hospital weeks before—her voice low but unwavering. Vitto listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable. When she finished, he turned and guided Ethan toward the grand hall.
"This is great news. Everybody! My son, Enzo Matteo Marchesi… has returned," Vitto announced, his voice booming against the vaulted ceiling.
The proclamation hung in the air, but to Ethan it felt like a scene he was merely watching through glass—distant, unreal. The sisters' eyes fixed on him, their gazes sharp and appraising. Something about how easily this all unfolded made his skin crawl.
Vitto eventually gestured to the twins. "These are your sisters—Giuliana Lara Marchesi and Arianna Zara Marchesi. Their mother passed away three years ago."
Ethan shook their hands, offering a polite, controlled smile. "Feel free to call me Ethan."
Vitto's brows rose. "Ethan?"
"Yes. I just know that I was born Enzo Matteo Marchesi, but I was raised as Ethan Vescovi. I built my career, my reputation, and my life with that name. I owe everything to it and my parents" he gesturing to his parents
A flicker of surprise crossed Vitto's face, then he chuckled, clapping a hand on Ethan's shoulder. "Yeah, still, you're a Marchesi. Be proud of it, my boy! Now, tell me—what have you built?"
"Real estate development and property," Ethan replied evenly. "Recently, I've expanded into hospitality."
Vitto's grin widened. "See… you've spoken like a true Marchesi. Come—your sisters will show you around. Tonight, we feast."
As Vitto turned to Lydia, engaging her in a more private conversation, Giuliana and Arianna stepped closer to Ethan, their smiles polite but their eyes sharp as blades.
The tour through the castle was slow and deliberate, the click of their heels echoing off marble floors. Luca trailed behind with one of the bodyguards, his gaze sweeping every corner.
Giuliana broke the silence first, her tone silky yet edged. "So, my dear brother… What brought you to our doorstep? A sudden craving for family… or perhaps a hunger for something less sentimental?"
Ethan's brow furrowed slightly. "I came because—"
Arianna cut in, her arms folding across her chest. "You arrived just as our father secured hundreds of acres of prime real estate in Milan. And our uncle Dominic? He just finalized a deal with Luxe Haven Development." Her head tilted slightly. "That's yours… isn't it?"
Ethan's jaw tightened. "I had no idea—"
"Of course," Giuliana said sweetly, though her eyes glittered with mockery. "And naturally, it's all a coincidence to you. Just like the fact that unknown relatives always seem to materialize when fortunes start… shifting."
Arianna leaned in slightly, her perfume a sharp, expensive bite in the air. "We'll figure out your true reason for being here, brother. And if it's not to our liking…" Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "…you won't be staying long."
They pivoted in unison and walked ahead, leaving Ethan standing in the middle of the hall, pulse steady but mind racing.
By the time he found his parents in the lower drawing room, his decision was made. "I'm leaving," he said abruptly.
Lydia's brow creased. "Why so soon?"
He offered vague excuses—work, obligations, the need to think—promising he would return someday. Delilah only touched his arm and murmured, "Be careful." She didn't press for details. She never did.
The Maybach rolled down the winding Calabrian roads, the engine's low hum filling the silence. Ethan stared out the window, the countryside blurring into muted greens and golds.
His father had embraced him too easily. His sisters had measured him like a threat. And Lydia… she looked at him with hope he wasn't sure he could fulfill.
"You're making a mistake," Luca said from the passenger seat, arms crossed. "You should've stayed longer. I watched them. We need to be careful and learn their patterns. Seen their real faces."
"I've seen enough," Ethan said quietly.
"Or maybe not enough?" Luca countered. "So… are you just deciding to walk away? Or are you planning something?"
Ethan didn't answer. Because even he wasn't sure.
Then, They fly back to Milan, leaving his adoptive parents and birth mother behind in Calabria. He needed distance.
Luca had warned him, but he was still shaken by how cunning his half-sisters were—and even more unsettled by his father's indifference to it. It had all seemed too easy, almost suspicious. And yet, he forced himself to remain optimistic.
For now, he had left his loved ones behind. And that alone weighed on him. When they arrived in Milan, Ethan instructed his driver to take him straight to his penthouse after dropping Luca off at his place.
As the Rolls-Royce glided through the city streets, the neon glow of the skyline blurred past the tinted windows. His mind was still reeling from everything that had happened. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar figure sitting at a bus stop.
"Ava..?" he murmured.
Without hesitation, he told the driver, "Stop the car."