THE UNINVITED GUEST
1177 Words
I was halfway through unpacking when the knock came at the door, sharp, deliberate, like whoever was on the other side didn’t believe in waiting.
Luca looked up from where he stood by the minibar, glass of scotch in hand. “Expecting someone?”
I shook my head and approached the door, my heart thudding a little too hard in my chest. We hadn’t told anyone about the marriage yet. Not even my friends. I hadn’t had the time or the courage.
When I opened the door, the last person I expected to see was standing there in a crimson trench coat, dark lipstick like a warning sign.
“Aurora,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Surprised?”
My stomach flipped. “Vivienne?”
Luca’s glass hit the bar with a thud as he turned toward the doorway, eyes narrowing.
Vivienne Grimaldi. Socialite, heiress, and my ex–best friend.
Also, Luca’s ex-fiancée.
“I thought you were in Paris,” I said, barely keeping my voice level.
“I was,” she said, breezing into the suite like she owned it. “But the news of your little marriage brought me home faster than a Chanel sale.”
I didn’t move. I was too busy replaying the last time I’d seen her two years ago, screaming at me on the steps of the Waldorf after I told her Luca had left her.
“I thought you hated me,” I said.
“Oh, I do,” she replied sweetly, brushing invisible lint off her designer sleeve. “But I also hate being kept in the dark. You married him? Seriously?”
I turned to Luca, who was silent, jaw clenched, eyes locked on Vivienne like she was a bomb with a ticking timer. I wasn’t sure if he was scared of what she’d say or waiting for it.
“Why are you really here, Vivienne?” I asked.
She took out her phone and scrolled for a second before holding the screen up to me. “I came for this.”
It was a photo. Of Ivy.
My world tilted.
The shot was recent, she was wearing the green sweater I’d just bought her last week. She was in the park near our apartment. Alone.
“Where did you get this?” My voice was sharp now, furious.
Vivienne tilted her head. “Relax. I didn’t take it. But someone sent it to me. With a very interesting message.”
She handed over the phone. The message was brief:
"The child is real. And she’s the key. Tell Luca."
My fingers trembled as I passed the phone to Luca. He stared at it like it might detonate in his hand.
Vivienne walked to the window, her back to us. “You two always thought you could play your little secrets close to the chest, didn’t you? Well, guess what? Someone’s watching. And they know.”
Luca’s voice was low, deadly. “Who sent this?”
She turned, shrugging. “I don’t know. The number was blocked. But you should probably figure it out before someone else does. Someone who won’t be so polite about it.”
“Why bring it to us?” I snapped. “Why not just go to the press, like you always do when you’re bored?”
She smiled again, this one was colder, sharper. “Because I want to be in the room when it all burns down.”
Then she walked out.
For a few seconds, the suite was dead silent. Then I turned on Luca. “You told me no one knew. That we were safe.”
“I thought we were,” he said tightly. “I’ve had Ivy protected from a distance since the day she was born. No names, no paper trail.”
“You clearly missed something.”
He didn’t deny it. “Someone’s playing a game.”
“With our daughter.” My voice cracked. “Luca, someone took a picture of Ivy. That’s not a threat that’s a promise. They know. They’re watching.”
He ran both hands through his hair, pacing. “We need to find out who. And fast. If this is about the inheritance clause”
“Don’t.” I cut him off. “Don’t act like this is just about your father’s will. Or your money. This is about Ivy. She’s not a pawn.”
He looked up at me, and there was something behind his eyes regret, maybe. Or something darker. “I would burn the entire empire to the ground before I let anything happen to her.”
That shook me. Not because of what he said, but because I believed him. For the first time, I truly believed him.
Later that night, after Luca had made half a dozen calls to security firms and private investigators, I sat on the edge of the bed staring at the photo again. Ivy looked so small. So unaware. I hated that her face was now in the hands of a stranger.
I hated more that Vivienne knew.
“She’ll use this,” I whispered as Luca came to stand beside me.
He nodded. “She’s not the only one.”
“What does that mean?”
He sat beside me, hands clasped. “My father had enemies. Business rivals, political sharks. When he died, his empire fractured. People think I’m weak because I didn’t inherit it clean. The clause, marrying, was his way of forcing me to settle down, to anchor. But now…”
“Now they’ll use Ivy to destabilize you.”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
I turned to him slowly. “Luca… what if this wasn’t just a warning?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“What if this was the opening move?”
He stared at me, the implications dawning slowly. If someone was watching Ivy, it meant they’d been tracking us. Our movements. Our meetings.
Our secrets.
“I need to move her,” he said abruptly. “Somewhere secure.”
“I’ll go with her.”
He shook his head. “No. If they’re watching you too”
“I am her mother,” I said fiercely. “And I’m not leaving her side.”
He didn’t argue.
At midnight, as we packed to leave the hotel and rendezvous with Luca’s security detail, my phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
My pulse skipped.
I opened the message.
"You can’t protect her forever. Tick tock, Mrs. DeRossi."
I turned the screen toward Luca.
He didn’t speak for a long time. Then finally, he looked up.
“They know about the marriage.”
“And they know I wasn’t your wife before this week,” I whispered.
“Which means…” His voice was grim. “They know Ivy was born before the wedding.”
I didn’t say the words aloud, but we both knew what it
meant.
The inheritance clause could be invalidated.
And if that happened, we wouldn’t just lose money.
We’d lose everything.
- Writer
