CHAPTER 3: A VINEYARD OF SECRETS
1444 Words
VILLA LOMBARDI, TUSCANY
Morning sun hovered above Tuscany's hills casting the vineyard in honey-gold light. Sofia stepped outside shielding her eyes against glare as birds chirped slowly in a rhythm.
She wore a sundress… simple in style, cream-colored and delicately fluttering gently in the warm breeze hinting at the secrets beneath.
Her attire wasn't worn for him specifically.
But, She knew he'd definitely noticed.
She sensed his presence before catching sight of him. Unsettling awareness crawled slowly across her skin. Like a gravity shifted upon his entry into a room.
Emilio stood silently beside a vintage black Jeep parked near an ivy-covered barn. Sunglasses clutched in one hand, his black button-down shirt sleeves were rolled up and his expression remained inscrutable.
“You’re up early,” he said, watching her approach.
“I thought college girls preferred to sleep through the morning,” He teased with a smooth voice, roughened by sleep.
Sofia smiled. “I don’t like wasting time.”
His mouth twitched, slightly. “Then let’s not.”
She blinked. “Are we… going somewhere?”
“I thought I’d give you a tour of the vineyard. Unless your afraid of dirt.”
Sofia smiled pretty, widely. “You keep trying to provoke me, Don Lombardi.”
He opened the passenger door. “I haven’t even started.”
***
The drive was pretty quiet but heavily charged
Sofia kept stealing glances at him. His jaw was clenched tightly, one hand draped over the wheel, while the other rested on the gearshift… dangerously near her thigh. Every bump in the road seemed reduce the space between them.
“So,” she said, her voice a little too casual.
“Why all the secrecy?”
Emilio turned his head slightly. “Secrecy?”
“This place. The guards. Locked rooms. You act like a lone monarch, not a vineyard owner.”
He laughed softly… low, surprised, and just a little dangerous.
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I always do,” she said, folding her arms.
“That’s what makes me interesting.”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “No, that’s not what makes you interesting.”
There was a heavy silence. Intense. She gazed out of the window, trying to hide the tension creeping up her throat.
But he’d already seen it.
***
They stopped at the top of a hill, overlooking rows upon rows of vines, stretching like soldiers toward the horizon. There was a stony gazebo standing nearby, half-covered in rose bushes and humming with bees.
“This is my favorite spot,” Emilio said, stepping out.
“It’s beautiful and serene,” she said as she followed him, brushing her hand on the edges of the vine.
“Don’t trust in looks because they can be deceiving,” he said in a dark tone.
“ Is that a warning?” she asked, turning.
“A fact.”
Their eyes met. Locked.
The tension enveloped them like the stifling summer heat. She experienced it in her chest, in the manner her thighs squeezed under her dress. In the way he considered her... not only as a girl, not only as a visitor.
But as something he could not allow himself to desire.
She turned away from him, turning into the gazebo, fingertips trailing across the stone, and presented him her back.
"Your look suggests you're unsure whether to kiss me or send me home."
He did not respond. The noise of his steps neared... measured, deliberate. She sensed his heat behind her, the force he lacked in words.
"Don't tempt me, Sofia," he whispered close to her ear.
Her breath stopped. "Why not?"
"Since you don't know what I would do to you if I stopped pretending I shouldn't."
He was so near now, his breath warm on her neck and his fragrance curling into her apprehension. She slowly turned to face him. her breast brushing his. His hand rose, knuckles brushing her jaw, a single finger tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I'm not afraid of you," she murmured.
“No. You should be,” he said.
He did not distance himself.
His mouth floated above hers... an inch, a breath, a commitment. Her eyes fluttering shut, her lips opened...
His phone rang.
He withdrew, jaw tight, drew the gadget from his pocket and peered at the screen. His face changed somehow.
"I have to go," he flatly said.
He was already leaving.
Sofia stood by herself in the vineyard, heart pounding, lips still tingling from an almost kiss. As the Jeep descended down the hill, her fingers curled toward her dress.
What had she just seen in his eyes?
Hope?
rage?
***
Sofia stood in the stillness long after the Jeep disappeared down the winding muddy road; the buzzing of bees and rustling plants were only sounds permeating the dense air.
She embraced herself using her arms.
What just happened?
He had been so close... his voice still whispered in her ear like a secret.
"Don't tempt me, Sofia."
Still, his perspective on her... It was not only desire. It was pain, caution, and something else she struggled to pinpoint.
It gnawed at her.
She trekked back toward the main house, traveled the long route over the vineyard paths, needing time to consider. Every action conjured up by the remembrance of him... How his eyes had darkened when she got too near, how his fingers had lingered over her cheek like he was memorizing her.
It gave no sense.
He was not sensible.
A man like Don Emilio Lombardi should not have made her sense of visibility feel real. But He did.
****
She reached the estate just as the late afternoon sun began its descent behind the mountains. The staff had grown restless... whispers softly but clearly floated in the air.
"He left without the driver."
“He went for something important.”
“He went with Luce.”
She halted, snatching that last name.
“Luce.”
The fierce man who barely interacted with her. the man always watching and always prepared.
The air inside the villa felt weightier than usual, as though the walls had squeezed in on his absence.
She headed toward the east wing and found herself once more outside the closed door.
The one she was not supposed to encounter.
Rebellion pushed her a very little bit. He could have merely asked whether she wanted to stay out. He had left her in suspense instead. half-kissed, full of questions.
And that locked door appeared quite enticing once more.
She turned the knob once more.
It remained locked.
But this time she noticed a small detail she had missed before. half-hidden behind a linen curtain, an old key hook just down the hallway.
It was vacant. Still not completely empty.
One ancient key hung from a brass hook.
Her heart thumped as she reached for it.
It locked directly into it.
***
The door creaked open to reveal a room with faintly lit shuttered windows and wooden floors. Dust hovered like secrets in the air. The region was both workplace and memory. One wall featured bookshelves; alongside them... Some held old photographs of men in suits; others were empty. Others shattered; glass burst as though from rage.
Sofia sneaked inside cautiously.
A leather-bound folder lay on the desk; the top embossed with a logo she didn't knew. On the far table, somewhat obscured under a velvet cover... was something like a pistol.
Her breath caught.
This was not just an investigation.
This was a war room.
She backed up, startled by the weight of what her entrance signaled. This was not her world. It is not meant to be.
It was his, though.
And something inside her knew she could still resist the pull if she turned back now.
She instead traveled further inside.
***
A floorboard behind her creaked.
She turned sharply.
Just to find Luce at the doorway.
He said coldly, his hand hovering near to the weapon at his hip, "You are not meant to be here."
Sofia's lips became dry. "I... was just seeking a book."
His eyes slitted. “This room contains no books. It holds truth. Miss Morano, if you enjoy your time here, you will behave as though you never opened that door.”
He shifted before she could talk.
To let her leave.
She realized in that moment she was no longer just a guest.
She has become involved in something she cannot understand.
Emilio Lombardi was also not just a puzzle.
He was a man surrounded in risk and trouble.
And she had only recently pulled the first thread.
- Writer
