Chapter 6
1693 Words
SOPHIA
The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual.
For a few seconds, I simply lay there, listening to the quietness of the room.
It was strange how quickly silence could become comforting.
Back home, silence had always meant something was wrong.
My father coughing behind his bedroom door.
Doctors whispering in the hallway.
Phone calls that stopped whenever I entered the room.
Here, silence simply meant that the house was asleep.
I got out of bed and opened the curtains.
The gardens stretched across the property, still covered in the faint mist of early morning.
I stared at them for a while.
Then my stomach growled.
I laughed softly.
Apparently, grief hadn't affected my appetite.
I showered, dressed, and left my room.
---
The kitchen was already awake.
I could hear the clattering of dishes before I even entered.
When I stepped inside, Teresa looked up.
“Good morning, Sophia.”
“Good morning.”
She smiled.
“You're early.”
“I couldn't sleep.”
She nodded.
“Would you like breakfast?”
“I can make something myself.”
She looked surprised.
“You want to cook?”
“Yes.”
I walked toward the counter.
“If that's okay.”
“Of course.”
She moved aside.
I washed my hands and looked around the kitchen.
“Do you have eggs?”
Teresa pointed toward the refrigerator.
“Over there.”
I smiled.
I decided to make something simple.
As I started cracking the eggs into a bowl, I heard footsteps behind me.
“Are you cooking?”
I turned.
Elena stood in the doorway.
She looked slightly surprised to see me.
“I'm trying.”
She smiled.
“Can I help?”
I hesitated.
“Sure.”
She walked over.
“What are you making?”
“Eggs.”
“That sounds difficult.”
I laughed.
“Very.”
She smiled.
We worked quietly for a while.
It wasn't the effortless friendship I had imagined people had in stories.
There were pauses.
Small questions.
Short answers.
But it wasn't uncomfortable.
Eventually, Elena said,
“I've never seen anyone cook breakfast for themselves here.”
“Why?”
“Most people have someone do it for them.”
I looked around the kitchen.
“I'm not most people.”
She smiled.
“I noticed.”
I smiled back.
That was all.
But it felt like the beginning of something.
---
When breakfast was ready, I carried my plate into the dining room.
Luca was already there.
His eyes immediately moved toward the plate in my hands.
“You cooked?”
“Yes.”
He looked at it.
“Did you?”
I frowned.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
He replied.
I sat down.
He looked at my food again.
“Looks good.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
For once, there was no teasing.
I appreciated that.
His eyes moved briefly to his side.
I noticed.
“How's the wound?”
“Better.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“Good.”
He continued eating.
I studied him for a moment.
“You should probably take it easy today.”
“I have work.”
“You were shot.”
“I remember.”
“Then act like it.”
He looked at me.
“I'll try.”
It wasn't a promise.
But it was enough.
---
Halfway through breakfast, Adrian walked into the dining room.
He was dressed casually this time, without the formal appearance he'd had the previous morning.
He looked at Luca.
“You're working already?”
“Yes.”
Adrian sighed.
“You're impossible.”
Luca ignored him.
Adrian turned to me.
“How are you?”
“I'm fine.”
“Settling in?”
“A little.”
He nodded.
“That's good.”
He took a seat.
“I won't stay long. I have somewhere to be.”
Luca looked at him.
“You came here just to check on me?”
“And to make sure you're not pretending you're invincible again.”
Luca gave him a look.
Adrian smiled.
“I'll take that as a yes.”
I couldn't help smiling.
The two brothers were different.
Luca was quiet and guarded.
Adrian was more relaxed.
But there was an obvious bond between them.
Adrian eventually stood.
“I'll see you later.”
Luca nodded.
Adrian looked at me.
“It was nice seeing you again.”
“You too.”
He smiled.
Then he left.
I watched him disappear through the doorway.
“He's nice.”
Luca looked at me.
“Don't encourage him.”
I smiled.
“I wasn't.”
---
Later that morning, I returned to the kitchen.
Teresa was preparing lunch.
This time, I didn't just watch.
“Can I help?”
She handed me a knife.
“Chop these.”
I smiled.
“Finally.”
“What?”
“You're actually letting me work.”
She laughed.
“You've been waiting.”
“Yes.”
I began chopping.
A few minutes later, Maria entered.
She looked at the vegetables.
“What's happening here?”
“She's helping.”
Teresa answered.
Maria looked at me.
“You really enjoy cooking.”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Then perhaps we should let you cook dinner one evening.”
I looked up.
“Really?”
“Why not?”
I smiled.
“I'd love that.”
Elena appeared a few minutes later.
She watched me for a moment.
“Are you really going to cook dinner?”
“Yes.”
“For everyone?”
“I think so.”
She smiled.
“Then I'll help.”
I laughed.
“Deal.”
Maria watched us.
She didn't say anything.
But there was a small smile on her face.
---
By afternoon, I had become familiar with the kitchen.
Not with everyone.
Not yet.
But enough to know who prepared what.
Enough to know where the spices were.
Enough to know which cupboard held the plates.
It was oddly comforting.
I was arranging vegetables when Dante appeared at the doorway.
“Miss Romano.”
I looked up.
“Dante.”
“Mr. Moretti wants to see you.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“He didn't say.”
I put the knife down.
“Okay.”
Dante stepped aside.
I followed him.
We walked through the hallway.
“Do you always escort people like this?”
“Yes.”
“Even inside the house?”
“When necessary.”
I sighed.
“You really take your job seriously.”
“Yes.”
I smiled slightly.
At least I knew what to expect from him.
---
Luca was in his office.
He looked up when I entered.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.”
I sat opposite him.
“What is it?”
He leaned back.
“I received a call.”
My stomach tightened.
“About what?”
“Your father's company.”
I immediately sat straighter.
“What about it?”
“The company wasn't simply failing.”
I stared at him.
“What do you mean?”
“There were transactions made before your father's death.”
“What kind?”
“I don't know yet.”
I frowned.
“You don't know?”
“I'm still investigating.”
I looked down.
My father's company had been collapsing for months.
I'd watched him spend everything he had on his treatment.
I had assumed the business simply failed.
But Luca's words made something cold settle in my stomach.
“Was he involved in something illegal?”
Luca didn't answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
“I don't know,” he finally said.
I swallowed.
“But there are people who believe he was.”
My hands tightened together.
“Who?”
“We're still finding that out.”
I stood.
“I want to know.”
“I know.”
“My father is dead. I deserve to know what happened to him.”
“You will.”
His voice was calm.
“But not until I'm certain of what I'm telling you.”
I stared at him.
For once, I didn't argue.
“Okay.”
I turned toward the door.
“Sophia.”
I looked back.
“Don't investigate this yourself.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever is behind it already knows about you.”
My stomach dropped.
“You think they're still watching me?”
“Yes.”
I nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
I left the office.
---
That evening, I stood in the kitchen beside Teresa and Elena.
The three of us were preparing dinner.
I was making a simple pasta dish.
Elena watched me carefully.
“Are you sure you know what you're doing?”
I looked at her.
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“Okay.”
A few seconds passed.
Then she asked,
“Are you sure?”
I laughed.
“Yes, Elena.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
Maria walked in.
She tasted the sauce.
Her eyes widened slightly.
“This is good.”
I smiled.
“Really?”
“Really.”
I felt strangely proud.
It was such a small thing.
But for the first time in months, I had done something that had nothing to do with hospitals, funerals, lawyers, or fear.
I had cooked dinner.
And people liked it.
---
That night, dinner was served.
Luca sat at the head of the table.
He took the first bite.
I watched him.
He looked at me.
“You're waiting for my reaction.”
“No.”
“You are.”
I sighed.
“Fine.”
He took another bite.
“It's good.”
I smiled.
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
“Very good.”
I looked down at my plate, trying to hide my smile.
Across the table, Maria noticed.
She smiled quietly.
I pretended not to see.
For the first time since entering the Moretti estate, I didn't feel like a guest.
Not completely.
Maybe I was beginning to belong here.
And that thought should have frightened me.
Instead, it felt strangely comforting.
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