Married to My Enemy's Son

House of Masks

INT. MORETTI ESTATE – BREAKFAST ROOM – MORNING

The sunlight pouring through the arched windows felt dishonest. Too bright. Too hopeful.

Zara sat across from Leonardo, staring at a plate of untouched fruit. Her coffee had gone cold.

He was reading the newspaper. As if they were just another married couple in Italy. As if last night hadn’t happened.

"Sleep well?" he asked, not looking up.

"I prefer silence with my lies, thanks."

He smirked faintly. "So defensive. I didn’t touch you, did I?"

Zara leaned forward, voice like steel. "Don’t flatter yourself."

He folded the paper slowly and set it aside. "Today we play the perfect couple. There’s a luncheon with the Romeros."

Her pulse ticked up. "Romero? As in Matteo Romero?"

He nodded. "One of our oldest allies. And your father’s favorite rival."

Zara clenched her jaw. She knew Matteo. He’d once tried to buy her off from marrying into another cartel. He’d failed. But he still had eyes everywhere.

"Fine," she said. "But keep him away from me. He smells like greed."

Leonardo stood. "Greed is the only language they understand. And today, you’re fluent."

INT. ROMERO VILLA – LUNCHEON GARDEN – NOON

Laughter. Cigars. Clinking silverware.

Zara sat beside Leonardo, her fingers loosely entwined with his. The perfect bride. The perfect lie.

Matteo Romero—graying, wolfish, charming—raised his glass.

"To the future of our kingdoms. And the queen beside him."

Zara smiled sweetly. "Careful, Matteo. Some queens bite."

The men roared with laughter. Leonardo’s hand tightened ever so slightly on hers.

"And some kings," Romero replied, eyeing her, "prefer their queens with fangs."

INT. ROMERO VILLA – HALLWAY – LATER

Zara stepped away from the crowd, needing air. The villa was too full of ghosts.

A hand caught her wrist.

She turned sharply. Matteo.

"Don’t look so shocked," he said. "You know I always had a soft spot for you."

Zara pulled free. "And a rotten heart. What do you want?"

He stepped closer. "To warn you. Your husband isn’t who you think he is."

"And you are?"

"Smarter than him."

He handed her a folded piece of paper.

"Give him this. Tell him it’s from an old friend. Watch his face."

Zara took it, suspicious.

Back at the table, she passed Leonardo the note under the tablecloth.

He unfolded it. Read it. Blinked once.

Then tore it in half without a word.

Zara said nothing. But her thoughts screamed.

What secrets are you hiding, Leonardo?

And who was the friend you just buried with your silence?

---

To be continued...