Chapter 25: The Gilded Bargain
The morning light in the Milan penthouse was soft, but it couldn't hide the tension that still hummed between them. They sat at the minimalist breakfast bar, the city of Milan waking up beneath them. Adriano looked refreshed after a few hours of sleep, but his eyes were still guarded.
Élise pushed her plate away, her heart hammering. She knew that if she was going to stay, she couldn't stay as a prisoner not even a gilded one.
"I can't stay here like this, Adriano," she said, her voice steady despite the nerves. "I can't be locked in a penthouse or an estate while you go out and fight the world. If I'm staying in Italy, I need a life. I need to work."
Adriano's jaw tightened. "Work? Élise, Pedro is out there. My mother is out there. Every camera in Milan is looking for the 'French girl' who vanished from my side. It's too dangerous."
"Then find a way to make it safe," she countered, leaning forward. "You're the Italian Tycoon. You own half the city. If I'm just a girl you've hidden away, I'll wither. I'll end up hating you for 'protecting' me into a cage."
Adriano went quiet, his dark eyes searching hers. He saw the fire in her—the same fire that had led her to Milan in the first place. He sighed, a sound of defeat mixed with deep admiration. "You are more stubborn than I gave you credit for."
"I have to be," she whispered.
"Fine," he said, leaning back. "But we do it my way. No more internships where you're fetching coffee for people who don't know your worth. Tell me, Élise... what is it you actually love? If you could do anything in this industry, what would it be?"
Élise didn't even have to think about it. "Design. Fabric. The way a garment can make someone feel like they're wearing armor. I love fashion not the business of it, but the soul of it."
A slow, predatory smirk spread across Adriano's face the look of a man who had just seen a way to win. "Fashion. I see."
He stood up, walking toward the window and looking out over the fashion district. "There is a boutique house under the Moretti umbrella L'Anima. It's struggling because it lacks a vision. It needs someone who doesn't care about the board members, someone who only cares about the 'soul' of the cloth."
"Adriano, I'm an intern," she reminded him.
"You were an intern," he corrected, turning back to her with an intense heat in his gaze. "Now, you are the Creative Consultant for L'Anima. You'll have your own studio, your own team, and my personal security detail at the door. You'll be visible, yes, but you'll be untouchable."
He walked back to her, taking her hands in his. "But in exchange, we go to the Vigna del Sole this weekend. We find whatever 'light' Sofia left behind, and we finish this war with Pedro once and for all. Do we have a deal?"
Élise looked at his hand, then at the man who was offering her everything she had ever dreamed of and a life of danger to go with it. She slipped her hand into his, her pulse racing.
"Deal."
The drive to the south began that evening. They left the city behind, the sleek Maserati cutting through the dark Italian countryside toward the ruins of the Moretti family's greatest tragedy.
As they approached the gates of the Vigna del Sole, the air grew heavy. The vineyard was a skeleton of its former self, the charred remains of the vines looking like twisted claws under the moonlight.
"Wait," Élise said as they reached the center of the ruins. She pulled the half-burned photo from the satchel. "In this picture, Sofia is standing by a stone archway with a sundial. It's not here."
Adriano frowned, looking around. "The archway fell in the fire. It was cleared away."
"No," Élise said, her intuition sparking. She pointed to a patch of overgrown ivy near the base of the old cellar. "Look at the shadows, Adriano. The note said 'find the light.' It's a sundial. It's not about where she stood... it's about where the shadow points at midnight."
They waited. As the moon hit its peak, a silver beam of light sliced through the ruins, pointing directly at a loose stone in the floor of the old cellar.
Adriano moved first, his strength allowing him to pry the heavy stone loose. Beneath it lay a small, airtight metal box.
He pulled it out, his hands shaking. Inside wasn't a document or a secret. It was a diary. And tucked into the first page was a photograph of Adriano and Pedro as teenagers, laughing together, their arms around a young girl with a radiant smile.
But it was the last entry that stopped Élise's heart.
"If you are reading this, it means the fire didn't just take the vines. It took our peace. Adriano, Pedro... don't let the Moretti name be your coffin. The truth isn't in the fire. It's in the vault at the bank in Lugano. Use the signet ring. It was never about the company. It was about Mother."
Élise looked at Adriano, who was staring at the diary as if it were a ghost. "Your mother?" she whispered. "What does she have to do with the bank in Lugano?"
"Everything," a voice boomed from the darkness of the cellar entrance.
They whirled around. It wasn't Pedro.
Standing there, flanked by men in suits, was Donna Isabella Moretti. She held a small, elegant pistol, her face as cold as the marble of the estate.
"I told you to leave, Miss Laurent," Isabella said, her voice a chilling melody. "I told you that you would be crushed. Now, give me the diary. My children have lived in the dark for ten years for a reason."