The sun streamed softly through the curtains, golden light spilling across the bed where Aria still lay, tangled in silk sheets and remnants of Luca's embrace. The warmth of the morning pressed against her skin, but inside, a cold ache gnawed at her chest. For one fleeting night, she'd let herself believe in them, in something real beneath the shadows of contracts and obligations.
But reality has a way of breaking illusions.
When she woke, he wasn't beside her. The space next to her was cold, his scent already fading, and something inside her tightened. She rose, pulling one of his shirts over her bare skin, and padded softly through the sprawling mansion, following the faint sound of voices down the hall.
At first, she thought nothing of it. Luca always had meetings. Always had business. But as she neared the study, his voice carried clearly, low, commanding, sharp enough to slice through walls.
