The rain had not stopped for three days.
Adriana watched it streak down the tall windows of her father’s villa, each drop a reminder of her own confinement. The Rossi mansion was a cage gilded in marble and gold, yet it pressed on her like iron bars. Servants whispered in corners, guards tracked her every movement, and Vittorio Rossi’s shadow stretched long across her life.
But none of that hurt as much as the silence from Damian.
The letters she wrote remained unsent, hidden beneath her pillow like unshed tears. She had no way of knowing if he doubted her, if he hated her, or if he still thought of her at all.
It was in this silence that Isabella struck.
---
Adriana was in the garden when Isabella arrived, her heels clicking softly on the flagstones. She looked radiant, as though th
