complicated feelings

CHAPTER 3 : SECRETS IN THE STUDY

Isla didn’t sleep that night.

Damian left for Milan at 3am. She watched his car from the window until the gates closed.

Lorenzo was somewhere in the house. And Selena was here.

The enemy was literally under the same roof.

She tossed and turned until 5am. Then gave up.

Rosa was already in the kitchen when Isla came down. The house was quiet except for the sound of the espresso machine.

"You’re up early, cara," Rosa said, sliding a cup across the counter. "Bad dreams?"

"I couldn’t sleep," Isla admitted. "Is it always this quiet?"

Rosa’s eyes darted to the stairs. "When Mr. Lorenzo is in a mood, yes. When Miss Selena is here, no."

Before Isla could ask, she heard it.

A door clicking shut upstairs.

Selena.

Isla’s bare feet made no sound on the marble as she followed. Selena was heading for the study. The same room where Lorenzo and Damian had fought last night.

The door was left open a crack.

"...I don’t care what Lorenzo said," Selena’s voice was sharp. "Damian proposed to me last year. In Paris. This illegitimate girl is just a distraction. A phase."

"Are you sure, miss?" Another woman. The house manager, Mrs. Bianchi. "Mr. Hourton Senior has been asking about the Allen file again."

"The Allen file?" Selena scoffed. "That’s nothing. Just some affair my uncle had 20 years ago. If it was important, Lorenzo would have buried it already."

Isla’s breath caught. Allen file. Affair. 20 years ago.

Her mom.

"And if she’s not a phase?" Mrs. Bianchi pressed. "What if Mr. Senior acknowledges her?"

"Then we ruin her first," Selena said, and Isla could hear the smile in her voice. "I have photos. From Joburg. Of her mother cleaning toilets. Of her begging my father for money at the gala. I’ll leak them to every blog in Rome."

Isla’s hands shook. Begging? Cleaning toilets? That was a lie. Her mom was a nurse. She worked double shifts to send Isla to school.

She took one step back and the floor creaked.

A hand grabbed her arm.

Isla spun around, heart in her throat.

Lorenzo.

He looked tired. Hair slightly messy. Sleeves rolled up. No suit jacket.

He put a finger to his lips. `Shhh.`

Then he pulled her away from the door, down the hall, into a small alcove that didn’t have cameras.

They stood there in silence for 3 seconds.

"Don’t listen to her," Lorenzo said finally. His voice was low. "Not everything she says is true."

"Then what IS true?" Isla whispered, pulling her arm away. "Is my mother in your father’s files? Did he know her?"

Lorenzo’s jaw ticked. He looked away. "That’s not your concern."

"It is my concern!" Isla hissed. "You all talk about me like I’m a problem to solve. Illegitimate. Gold digger. Distraction. I flew across the world because my dying mother told me to find my father. I deserve one honest answer."

For a second, something in Lorenzo’s face cracked.

Not ice. Exhaustion.

"Because Damian asked you to come," he said quietly. "And because... yes. My father might have made a mistake 20 years ago in Johannesburg."

The word hit her like a punch. Mistake.

"You mean my dad."

Lorenzo didn’t nod. Didn’t deny.

Footsteps. Selena was coming out.

Without thinking, Lorenzo grabbed Isla’s wrist and yanked her into the nearest guest room. He shut the door softly.

It was dark. Too close.

Isla could smell him. Cedar, expensive soap, and something colder underneath.

Selena’s heels clicked past the door. "Lorenzo? Are you in there? The board meeting is in an hour."

Lorenzo didn’t answer. His eyes were on Isla. Gray. unreadable.

For one second, neither of them moved. The air was thick.

Then he let go like she burned him and stepped back.

"Stay away from Selena," he said. "And stay away from me."

He left. Door closed.

Isla slid down the wall. Mistake. Father. Files.

Was Damian the only reason she was here? Or was there something bigger?

She didn’t go to breakfast. She couldn’t.

At noon, Rosa knocked. "A package for you, miss. No sender."

Inside the package: one photo and a key.

The photo: Her mom. 20 years younger. Hair long. Laughing. Standing next to a man in a dark suit at what looked like a hotel bar in Joburg.

The man’s face was blurred with a black marker. But his cufflink was clear. A silver `H`.

Hourton.

On the back, in her mom’s handwriting:

`He doesn’t know about you. Yet. Don’t trust them all.`

Isla turned the key over in her hand. Small. Silver. Room number `214` engraved on it.

Room 214 was on the east wing. A wing that was supposedly closed for renovations.

That night Isla waited until 1am. The house was dark.

She slipped out of her room with the key.

Room 214 was at the end of the hall. Dusty. Locked from the outside.

The key fit.

Inside was not a bedroom. It was an office. Old files. A desk. And on the wall, a cork board with photos and red string.

Her mom’s photo was there.

Damian’s photo was there.

And in the center: A photo of a younger Lorenzo. Maybe 22. Standing next to a man who looked exactly like him.

Mr. Hourton Senior.

Under it, someone had written in black pen:

`He knows. Don’t let him near her.`

Isla heard a sound behind her.

She spun around.

Lorenzo was in the doorway.

He wasn’t surprised to see her. He looked... resigned.

"You weren’t supposed to find this," he said.

"Then why give me the key?" Isla asked, holding it up.

"I didn’t."

Silence.

"Someone wants you scared," Lorenzo said. "Someone wants you to run."

"Who?"

"Me? Selena? Take your pick." He stepped inside and closed the door. "But if you stay, you need to understand something. This family destroys people, Isla. Especially people my father cares about."

"Did he care about my mom?"

Lorenzo looked at the photo on the wall. "I don’t know."

He walked to the desk and picked up a folder. `ALLEN, M.`

He didn’t open it. He held it out to her.

"If you read this, there’s no going back. You’ll be in the middle of everything."

Isla stared at the folder. Her hands were shaking.

This was it. The truth.

She reached out and took it.

Lorenzo watched her. "You’re braver than my brother."

"Is that a compliment?"

"It’s a warning."

He turned to leave, then stopped.

"Lock the door when you leave. And Isla... don’t tell Damian you were here."

Then he was gone.

Isla stood alone in room 214 with a folder that could ruin a billion-dollar family.

Outside, Rome was quiet.

Inside, her heart was racing.

She opened the folder.

The first page: `Subject: Marie Allen. Relationship: Confirmed. Child: 1 Female. Status: Unacknowledged.`

Unacknowledged.

Isla closed her eyes. So it was true.

She wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t a gold digger.

She was a Hourton.

And now everyone in this house would know it too.