Chapter 2 –
The villa, perched high above the Amalfi Coast, should have felt like paradise. Instead, to Emma, it was a gilded cage. Marble floors, ornate chandeliers, soft classical music—it all pressed down on her chest like walls closing in. Days of careful meals and quiet corridors had slowly turned into a suffocating routine she could no longer endure.
She stormed into the main hall, her fingers gripping the edge of a polished table. Lorenzo emerged from the study, calm as ever, dark eyes unreadable yet piercing through her anger like a blade.
"I can't do this anymore!" Emma's voice echoed against the high ceilings. "I'm not a prisoner, Lorenzo! I can't just stay here waiting for memories to come back while you… while you sit there acting like you own me!"
Lorenzo's jaw tightened. He took a step forward, deliberate, measured. "Emma…"
"No!" she snapped, cutting him off. "Don't call me that! Don't speak to me like I owe you anything!"
He raised his hands slightly, not in surrender, but in an attempt to calm her. "You're not locked up. You're… protected."
"Protected?" Emma laughed bitterly, voice sharp and hollow. "Keeping me in a villa like some fragile ornament while the world goes on without me? Tell me, Lorenzo… who are you really? Are you the man I saved that day… or just someone hiding behind power and control?"
Lorenzo's dark eyes flickered—anger, surprise, something raw—but he didn't answer. He didn't move closer. He didn't speak.
"I knew it," Emma whispered, chest tight. "You're not even real. You're… a mask. A name. I saved a stranger, and now you think you can tell me what's safe and what's not? You think you can control me while I can't even remember why?"
Her words hung between them, heavy and accusing. Lorenzo's silence was deafening, the villa shrinking around them until every column and painting pressed in with suffocating tension.
Emma's hands trembled. She wanted answers, even lies—but she would not be caged. "I deserve to know the truth! Who are you? Why am I here? Or is that… too dangerous for me to hear?"
Finally, Lorenzo pressed his lips into a thin line, steps measured as he retreated slightly. "When the time comes, you'll know everything," he said quietly, voice carrying a weight that made her chest tighten. "But not now."
"Not now?" she repeated, disbelief cutting through her frustration. "I saved you. I trusted you. And you won't even tell me who you are?"
Lorenzo's eyes softened, just a fraction, but the hardness remained. "Emma… I will never let you be in danger. Even if it means… even if it means you don't understand me now."
Emma turned sharply, storming toward the terrace. She needed air, space, and a taste of freedom. The sun had set, leaving the cliffs bathed in silver moonlight, waves crashing far below. The beauty could not soothe her racing heart.