Alessia didn't know which burned more—Luca's scent still on her skin or the panic she felt when she saw Daisy at the other end of the hallway.
Her heart hammered as she adjusted her dress quickly and walked toward her friend. She masked her flushed cheeks with a polite, tired smile.
"Where have you been?" Daisy asked, folding her arms.
Alessia forced a chuckle. "Luca asked me to tidy up… an abandoned room downstairs. He said he was expecting a special guest."
Daisy raised a brow, skeptical. "He's usually expecting his usual sluts, but not a maid," she said jokingly.
Alessia dropped her gaze, guilt washing over her. Then, trying to change the topic and use the moment to apologize to her, she said, "Daisy… I'm sorry. I shattered your dreams of becoming married into the Morano family. But you know I didn't choose any of this. If I had my way, you'd be the one Donato chose for Luca. You deserve it. You've worked just as hard as I have."
"I've worked hard, yes," Daisy replied softly. "But I'm not bitter. I'm your friend, Alessia. I wish you well… even if it hurts a little."
Alessia's eyes welled up. "Do you mean that?"
Daisy nodded, her smile tight with emotion. "Yes. Now, come on. Let's not keep the entire house wondering where the two closest people to the inner chambers disappeared to."
They laughed lightly, hugging each other before dashing up the stairs, brushing off the weight in their chests.
But the calm didn't last.
***
Two days later, the Donatos arrived at the Bianchi family's home.
Their presence was impossible to miss—sleek black cars, sharp-suited bodyguards, and velvet boxes filled with golden jewelry and ceremonial gifts.
Alessia stood still as her mother wept beside her, caught between pride and dread. Donato made their intentions known in public. The wedding would take place in six weeks. Invitations were already being sent.
What was supposed to be a secret arrangement had become a spectacle. Alessia barely had time to breathe before fate decided to shove her further down a path she hadn't chosen.
***
That weekend, Lorenzo came.
She had longed for his face. The way he used to hold her hands and whisper that he'd wait. That everything would work out.
But as he stood outside the door, seeing the luxury cars and the guards at the gate, something twisted inside him. He didn't knock. He didn't announce his arrival.
Instead, he heard them.
Voices from inside. Laughter. The Donato name spoken like a crown placed on Alessia's head.
He clenched his fist.
By the time Alessia spotted him from her window and rushed out to the gate, he was already walking away.
"Lorenzo!" she cried, running towards him.
He paused. His back was to her. She caught up and grabbed his arm.
"I didn't ask for any of this," she said breathlessly. "You know I didn't. You know the kind of people they are. They don't ask. They just... decide."
Lorenzo turned around. His eyes were unreadable. Cold. But his smile was worse—it was empty.
"Well," he said simply. "Happy married life in advance."
She blinked, stunned. "That's it? You're not even going to fight for me?"
"Fight?" he repeated with a small laugh. "Fight the Moranos? For a woman who's already halfway into their world? No. I'm not that foolish."
Her chest tightened. "Lorenzo, you're hurting me."
"No, Alessia. I'm just not hurting for you anymore."
With that, he turned and walked away.
She didn't follow him.
She couldn't.
As the sound of his footsteps faded behind her, Alessia stood in the middle of the gate, her world crumbling in silent pieces. For the first time since her father's death, she felt completely alone.
And in the shadows of the upper window, someone else had been watching.
It was Luca.
Chapter 5: Blood on White Silk
The news of the engagement spread like wildfire. In the Bianchi home, smiles were strained and silence grew heavy.
Alessia's mother had always been wary of the Moranos, but even wariness could be softened by promises of a better life. The Donato patriarch assured her that after Alessia married Luca, the Bianchi family would never know poverty again. Farmlands. A house of their own. A car. Even gold jewelry for her wrists and ears.
So they nodded. Smiled. Pretended to rejoice while their eyes said otherwise.
Alessia, however, barely slept. Her dreams were filled with the ghost of Lorenzo's empty smile, and her days were haunted by Luca's unreadable eyes.
She had tried to speak with Luca after that day. To explain. To ask what he felt. But Elias, one of Luca's most loyal men, whispered to her that Luca had been furious after seeing her with Lorenzo but held himself together out of respect for her family. He didn't want to cause a scene. Not in her home.
Luca's silence hurt more than words.
***
The wedding day came faster than expected.
Alessia had never seen herself in white before. Daisy, now her bridesmaid, had helped her undress from her maid's uniform, folding it quietly and setting it aside like a relic from another life.
"You look beautiful," Daisy whispered as she fixed the veil. "Like someone finally stepping into the light."
Alessia turned to the mirror. For the first time in eight years, she didn't look like a servant. She looked like a bride.
But she didn't feel free.
Outside, guests filled the mansion courtyard. The Morano estate had never looked so elegant. Musicians played softly, and the air was filled with roses and whispered gossip.
Luca's past lovers were there too—eyes sharp, words sharper.
"You always had your eyes on him, didn't you?" one sneered as Alessia passed. "From rags to riches, just like that."
Another had called her the night before, laughing on the line. "A maid with ambition. Cute. Don't forget where you came from."
But none of them dared insult her to her face after Luca made a public warning days before:
"Anyone who disrespects my future wife will pay for it in blood. That is not a threat. It's a promise."
No one tested that promise.
***
The ceremony went smoothly. Vows exchanged. Rings slipped on fingers. A kiss that felt like a seal more than love.
The guests cheered. Alessia blinked back tears she didn't understand.
And then it happened.
As the first champagne bottle popped, gunshots rang out.
Screams tore through the celebration.
From the balcony, Alessia saw shadows move—men dressed in black, faces masked. Chaos broke loose as guests ducked for cover. The Morano guards sprang into action, returning fire, drawing weapons from hidden holsters.
But it wasn't just any attack.
Alessia's breath caught when she spotted him.
Lorenzo.
Standing among the shooters, dressed in black, gun in hand. His eyes met hers—cold, unflinching, distant. And then, he raised the weapon and fired into the crowd.
Alessia screamed. "No!"
Daisy grabbed her, pulling her back as Luca appeared by her side, shielding her instantly with his body.
"Get her inside!" he barked to Elias. "Now!"
"No one will hurt you," Luca whispered fiercely into her ear. "Not on my watch."
But Alessia couldn't move. Her legs felt rooted, frozen by the sight of the man she once loved pointing a gun at the family she was now part of.
Bullets echoed in every direction. But not one of them touched her.
The Morano security team, known for being brutal and fast, had pushed back the enemy within minutes. Some attackers were wounded, others captured. None escaped unnoticed.
Alessia didn't see any of that.
But Lorenzo's betrayal remained.
And so did her silence.
She was still staring into the smoke and dust, into the vanishing crowd, searching for Lorenzo.
He was gone.....