Chapter 6 — Rumors
2077 Words
The estate did not return to silence after the attack.
It settled instead into something more controlled—like a machine that had briefly stalled and then resumed operation with sharper precision.
Everything was quieter.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that meant people were listening.
By morning, there were fewer visible guards.
But Bella could feel them more.
That was the difference she didn’t like.
Presence without visibility.
Like eyes in the walls.
She sat alone in her room for a long time before anyone came to speak to her.
The air in there was stale.
The tray from the previous night had been removed.
A new one appeared at the door without announcement, placed there by someone who didn’t wait to be seen doing it.
No knock. No voice. Just the soft sound of a plate hitting wood and then footsteps walking away.
Bella didn’t touch it immediately.
Her stomach was tight.
Instead, she replayed the night in her mind.
Gunshots.
Running.
Vincenzo’s voice—calm even when everything else was not.
Low. Steady.
You are not the target.
That sentence should have meant safety.
It didn’t.
Because if she wasn’t the target...
then why did it feel like she was the reason?
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
It wasn’t loud.
But it made her jump anyway.
She stood immediately.
Her legs felt weird. Like she’d been sitting too long.
“Who is it?” she asked.
Her voice came out rough.
“Carmela,” came the reply.
Even. Familiar.
Bella hesitated, then opened the door.
Carmela stood there as usual—composed, steady, unreadable in her own way.
Hair perfect. Posture perfect.
But there was something different in her posture today.
Slightly more alert.
Slightly less relaxed.
Like she’d been sleeping with one eye open.
“Are you injured?” Carmela asked.
Straight to it. No preamble.
Bella frowned. “No.”
A pause.
Carmela’s eyes did a quick scan anyway. Face. Arms.
Then Carmela nodded. “Good.”
“That’s it?” Bella said.
The words came out sharper than she meant.
“No explanation? No ‘last night was terrifying but don’t worry’ speech?”
Carmela studied her briefly.
Head tilted. Measuring.
“Would that help you?”
Bella blinked.
The question threw her.
“…no.”
“Then no.”
Bella exhaled sharply.
Air she didn’t know she was holding.
“This place is unbelievable.”
Carmela didn’t respond to that.
No defense. No agreement.
Instead she gestured down the corridor.
Her hand moved like she’d done it a thousand times.
“Breakfast is ready. You should eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Her stomach disagreed.
“You will be.”
That certainty again.
Like Carmela could see two hours into Bella’s future.
Bella stepped into the hallway anyway, arms folded tightly across her chest.
Armor.
“Last night,” she said, “people were shooting outside your house.”
She said it flat. To see if it would land differently out loud.
Carmela didn’t correct her wording.
Didn’t flinch.
“It was an intrusion,” she said simply.
Like she was reading from a report.
“That’s not normal.”
“For this world,” Carmela replied, “it is contained.”
Bella stopped walking.
Just stopped in the middle of the hall.
“Contained?”
The word felt fake.
Carmela glanced at her briefly.
Just a flick of the eyes.
“Yes.”
“So people just… try to break into your boss’s estate sometimes?”
She meant it to sound sarcastic.
It came out tired instead.
Carmela didn’t answer immediately.
That hesitation was answer enough.
It said _yes_ without saying it.
They reached the dining area again.
The room looked unchanged.
That was what made it unsettling.
Same table.
Same arrangement.
Same quiet structure.
Same vase with flowers that probably got replaced every morning.
As if violence outside had not been allowed to enter the design of the house.
As if the walls had a rule about what kind of chaos they’d tolerate.
Bella sat slowly.
The chair was cold under her.
Carmela placed food in front of her again.
Same routine.
Bella didn’t eat right away.
She just stared at it.
“You work for him,” she said.
It wasn’t a question.
Carmela paused.
Hand still near the plate.
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“A long time.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is the only one I will give.”
Final. Polite. Shut.
Bella leaned forward slightly.
Her elbows on the table.
“What is he?”
Carmela looked at her.
Really looked.
For the first time, something more human passed across her face.
Not fear.
Restraint.
Like she was holding something back with both hands.
“You should not ask that,” she said.
Quiet.
“That’s not an answer either.”
Carmela exhaled softly through her nose.
A sound Bella almost missed.
“You are here temporarily. That is what matters.”
“Everyone keeps saying ‘temporarily’ like it’s supposed to make me feel better.”
The word was starting to make her sick.
“It is meant to keep you informed.”
“I don’t feel informed.”
A pause.
The kind where you could hear the clock in the next room.
Then Carmela said, more carefully, “You are safe inside these walls.”
Bella let out a short laugh.
It wasn’t funny.
“That’s what everyone keeps saying before something bad happens.”
Carmela didn’t argue.
Didn’t try to convince her.
Instead, she said quietly, “Last night was not meant for you.”
Bella froze slightly.
Her fingers twitched on the table.
“That doesn’t make it better,” she said.
“No,” Carmela agreed.
Simple. Honest.
“It does not.”
A silence settled between them.
Thick.
Bella picked at the edge of the napkin.
Then Bella asked, “Where is he?”
She didn’t need to clarify who.
Carmela didn’t need to either.
“He is working,” she said.
“After what happened?”
Bella’s voice went up.
Carmela nodded once.
“Especially after what happened.”
Bella frowned.
Her eyebrows pulled together.
“So this is normal too? Gunfire, then work?”
Carmela studied her for a moment.
Really studied.
“For him, nothing stops being his responsibility.”
That sentence stayed in the air longer than the rest.
It hung there.
Heavy.
Bella looked down at the food in front of her.
The steam had stopped.
For the first time, she picked up the fork.
Held it.
But she didn’t eat.
Not yet.
“People talk about him,” she said quietly.
Almost to herself.
Carmela’s expression didn’t change.
“People always talk.”
“They called him something.”
The words came out before Bella could stop them.
That caught Carmela’s attention slightly.
A flicker.
Bella continued.
Her voice dropped.
“The Devil of Milan.”
A brief pause.
The air changed.
Carmela didn’t react immediately.
But her shoulders did something.
A fraction.
Then, carefully: “People like labels.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is what people choose to believe when they do not understand reality.”
Bella set the fork down again.
The clink was loud.
“So what is reality then?”
Carmela hesitated.
Longer than before.
Her eyes went somewhere else for half a second.
Then she said, “Reality is that most people who speak about him have never met him.”
“That doesn’t sound like a defense.”
“It is not meant to be one.”
Bella studied her.
Really studied.
“You’re careful with your words,” she said.
Carmela nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
A pause.
Carmela’s mouth pressed together.
“Because words have consequences here.”
Bella leaned back slightly.
The chair creaked.
“Everything here feels like it has consequences.”
Carmela didn’t deny it.
She didn’t lie either.
Instead, she changed the subject slightly.
“You should finish your meal.”
“I’m not a guest,” Bella said suddenly.
The words surprised even her.
Carmela looked at her.
Fully.
Bella’s voice tightened.
“You keep treating me like I’m being temporarily placed somewhere.
Like I don’t matter enough to explain anything to.”
Carmela’s expression softened just slightly.
At the corners.
“You matter,” she said.
Bella frowned.
She wanted to believe it.
“Then explain.”
Carmela didn’t answer.
Because she couldn’t.
Or wouldn’t.
The line was there and she wasn’t crossing it.
Before Bella could push further, footsteps approached.
Measured.
Familiar.
Carmela stepped back immediately, posture resetting into composure.
Like someone flipped a switch.
Bella turned.
Vincenzo stood at the entrance of the dining room.
Same calm presence.
Same controlled stillness.
Black shirt. Dark pants.
But now there was something else beneath it.
Tension that had not been there before.
In his jaw. In his shoulders.
He looked at Bella first.
A full second.
Checking.
Then at Carmela.
“Leave us,” he said.
Low. No room for discussion.
Carmela nodded once and exited without hesitation.
No goodbye. No look back.
Silence remained between Bella and him.
It felt heavier than before.
Denser.
“You didn’t sleep,” Bella said finally.
It wasn’t a question.
She could see it under his eyes.
Vincenzo didn’t deny it.
“I did,” he said.
A pause.
“Not enough.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
She meant it to sound cold.
A faint pause.
His mouth moved like he almost smiled.
“Everything here is my problem,” he replied.
That answer made her study him more closely.
Really look at him.
“People outside tried to kill you last night,” she said.
Saying it made her throat tight.
“Yes.”
“And you’re just… back to normal?”
Vincenzo’s gaze held steady.
Unblinking.
“There is no normal.”
That didn’t comfort her.
It made her chest ache.
“It felt like it was about me,” she said quietly.
The truth she’d been turning over all night.
A shift.
Not visible to most.
But Bella noticed it.
In his eyes.
“You are not the reason,” he said.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Vincenzo paused.
He looked toward the window. Then back.
Then: “You are involved because you are present.”
“That’s the same thing dressed differently.”
A faint silence.
The house seemed to listen with them.
Then he said, carefully, “There are people who are aware of your arrival.”
Bella frowned.
“Why?”
The question came out small.
“I am still determining that.”
That answer should have been frustrating.
It was.
But something about the way he said it made it worse.
Like even he didn’t fully understand it yet.
Like he was also in the dark.
Bella stood slowly.
The chair scraped against the floor.
“So what now?” she asked.
Vincenzo looked at her for a moment.
Longer than usual.
Then said quietly:
“Now you remain inside the estate.”
Bella’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s not a suggestion.”
“It is a necessity.”
“For my safety?”
She needed him to say it.
“Yes.”
She shook her head.
Hair moving.
“Or yours?”
That question landed.
Not loudly.
But precisely.
Like an arrow.
For the first time, Vincenzo didn’t answer immediately.
The silence stretched.
Three seconds. Four.
And in that silence—
Bella understood something she didn’t want to understand yet:
Not everything happening outside was the real danger.
Some of it might already be inside.
Hours later, the house had settled again.
That controlled, artificial calm.
Bella wandered.
Not because she was looking for anything.
Because staying in one room made her skin crawl.
She passed a hallway she hadn’t been down before.
The door to Vincenzo’s study was slightly open.
Just a crack.
She shouldn’t have looked.
She did anyway.
His desk was messy.
Unusual for him.
Files scattered.
A lamp on.
And partially hidden beneath a stack of papers,
the corner of a photograph.
Bella stepped in before she could stop herself.
She pulled it out carefully.
Her breath caught.
It was her grandfather.
Younger.
Standing next to a man she didn’t recognize.
Both of them smiled like they knew a secret.
Bella’s fingers went cold around the edge of the photo.
- Writer
