The days following Isabella's return felt like walking across thin ice. Even when the mansion was quiet, even when laughter tried to seep into the halls, the weight of her presence lingered like smoke after a fire. Aria tried to convince herself that Isabella's visit had been nothing more than a passing storm, but she could still hear her words, still feel the sharpness of her gaze. This woman wasn't gone. She was circling, waiting, looking for cracks to widen.
Aria noticed the subtle changes in Luca first. He was present, attentive, but guarded in ways he hadn't been before. His phone calls lasted longer, his late-night meetings more frequent, and though he told her everything was under control, she couldn't shake the feeling that lsabella's shadow was stitched into every silence between them.
