Don Lorenzo Valenti didn’t bother hiding his irritation when the door to his study opened again.
His gaze lifted sharply—cold, unreadable.
And there stood his son.
Again.
A scowl immediately formed on his face.
“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Lorenzo asked, his voice edged with impatience.
Alessandro remained calm, though he knew better than to test his father’s mood.
“I’m on my way,” he replied quickly, stepping further into the room. “But I figured out an easier way to get the list you asked for… and I thought I should tell you first.”
Lorenzo leaned back slightly in his chair, swirling the whiskey in his glass.
“I’m listening.”
His tone was disinterested, but his sharp eyes said otherwise.
Alessandro took a breath.
“I want to throw a party tonight.”
Lorenzo's expression darkened instantly.
“A party?” he repeated slowly. “Where?”
Alessandro hesitated for only a second.
“Here.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Lorenzo stared at him as if trying to decide whether he was serious… or simply stupid.
“You never fail to give me reasons to question if you’re truly my son,” he said flatly.
Alessandro swallowed but held his ground.
“Just hear me out, father.”
Lorenzo didn’t respond immediately. He simply watched him, waiting—expecting nothing meaningful.
But Alessandro continued.
“I’ll invite the same people I’ve always invited. The same group that has been coming here,” he explained carefully. “This time, your men can observe them closely. Quietly. Without raising suspicion.”
Lorenzo's gaze sharpened.
Alessandro pressed on.
“They can identify anyone suspicious. Anyone who doesn’t belong. Anyone who might be working against you.”
The room fell silent again.
Lorenzo exhaled slowly, tapping his finger against the glass.
It wasn’t a bad idea.
In fact…
It was strategic.
Subtle.
Effective.
For a brief moment, something close to approval flickered in his eyes—but it vanished just as quickly.
“Fine,” he said at last.
Alessandro's shoulders relaxed slightly.
“But,” Lorenzo added, his tone turning cold again, “if this fails…”
Alessandro nodded quickly. “It won’t.”
“It better not.”
A pause.
Then Lorenzo waved his hand dismissively.
“Go.”
Alessandro didn’t need to be told twice.
He turned and left the study, a small, satisfied smile creeping onto his face as soon as the door closed behind him.
Everything was falling into place.
----
Isabella stood in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection.
She barely recognized herself.
Her eyes looked tired.
Distant.
Haunted.
Every time she closed her eyes, fragments of last night came rushing back—blurred, incomplete… but enough to make her chest tighten.
The man.
His voice.
His presence.
The way everything spiraled out of her control.
She gripped the edge of her table.
Who was he?
Why had he been in Alessandro's room?
And worse…
Why had she responded the way she did?
Her cheeks burned with shame.
“That wasn’t me…” she whispered.
But deep down, she wasn’t sure.
The memory of the drink Valeria had given her surfaced again.
That strange warmth.
That loss of control.
Her stomach twisted.
“That drink…” she muttered.
It had something to do with it.
It had to.
Isabella closed her eyes briefly, trying to steady herself.
This wasn’t how she had imagined it.
Not like this.
Not with a stranger.
Not in confusion.
Not in regret.
A bitter breath escaped her lips.
She didn’t think she could forgive herself.
And Valeria?
Isabella's jaw tightened.
She didn’t think she could forgive her either.
But despite everything… she still got dressed.
Still packed her bag.
Still prepared for school.
Because she had no choice.
Her scholarship depended on it.
Missing classes wasn’t an option.
No matter how broken she felt.
The moment Isabella stepped through the school gates, her heart dropped.
Alessandro.
He was standing there.
Waiting.
As if nothing had happened.
As if everything was normal.
“Sweetheart,” he called, walking toward her with a smile. “Can you ever forgive me?”
Isabella's chest tightened.
She couldn’t even look him in the eyes.
What if he knew?
What if somehow… he finds out what had happened in his room?
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
“Where did you spend the night?” she asked instead, her voice quieter than usual.
“At a friend’s place,” Alessandro replied smoothly. “We were drinking, playing games… I lost track of time.”
A lie.
Isabella nodded slowly.
“It’s okay,” she said, forcing the words out. “I forgive you.”
Relief flashed across Alessandro's face.
“I want to make it up to you,” he said quickly.
“You don’t have to—”
“I do,” he cut in, smiling. “I’m throwing you a proper birthday party tonight.”
Isabella froze.
“A party?”
She shook her head immediately.
“No… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
The thought of returning to that house—that room—made her chest tighten.
“You can’t say no,” Alessandro said lightly. “Everything is already set.”
Her eyes widened.
“You already planned it?”
“Of course,” he replied. “You deserve it.”
Isabella hesitated.
Her instincts told her to refuse.
To walk away.
To avoid everything connected to last night.
But Alessandro was looking at her expectantly.
Waiting.
“Please,” he added softly.
Isabella exhaled slowly.
“…Okay.”
The word left her lips before she could stop it.
Alessandro smiled instantly, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
And just like that, he walked away.
Leaving her standing there.
Uneasy.
Conflicted.
Trapped.
Valeria had been watching everything from a distance.
The moment Alessandro left, she hurried over.
“Well?” she said excitedly. “Tell me everything!”
Isabella didn’t respond immediately.
Valeria leaned closer, her voice dropping.
“It was perfect, right?”
That was when Isabella turned.
And Valeria froze.
The look in her eyes wasn’t excitement.
It was anger.
Cold.
Sharp.
“What was in that drink you gave me?” Isabella asked.
Valeria blinked.
“Nothing harmful,” she replied casually. “Why?”
Isabella held her gaze for a moment longer.
“It didn’t go well with my system.”
Her tone was flat.
Distant.
Then she turned and began walking away.
Valeria frowned, confused.
“Why are you acting like this?” she called after her. “Isabella!”
Isabella didn’t stop.
“I have class,” she said over her shoulder. “I don’t want to be late.”
And with that, she disappeared into the building.
Valeria remained where she stood, her expression slowly changing.
The excitement faded.
Replaced by suspicion.
“…Something’s not right,” she murmured.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched the direction Isabella had gone.
Something had happened.
Something unexpected.
And Valeria intended to find out what it was.