Kindness!!!
1679 Words
The entire office fell silent.
Even the rain outside seemed quieter.
Alessandro’s gray eyes turned dangerously still.
"Explain."
Dante slipped his gloves off slowly, unfazed by the tension suffocating the room.
"Twenty years ago, Isabella Sinclair died in a house fire." He glanced toward the file on the desk. "That’s the story everyone knows."
Alessandro said nothing.
Dante continued calmly.
"What people don’t know is that the fire started in the west wing nursery."
A pause.
"Aurora’s nursery."
Something cold settled in Alessandro’s chest.
"And?"
Dante’s expression darkened slightly.
"Someone locked the door from the outside."
The words landed like a blade.
One of the guards cursed under his breath.
But Alessandro remained terrifyingly composed.
Only the blood dripping slowly from his injured palm betrayed anything at all.
"Who?"
Dante looked directly at him.
"That’s the problem. The records disappeared."
Alessandro’s jaw tightened.
"But one thing is certain," Dante said quietly. "Aurora’s mother died trying to get to her daughter."
For the first time that night—
real anger flashed across Alessandro’s face.
Sharp.
Violent.
Gone almost instantly.
"Leave."
The room obeyed immediately.
Within seconds, only Alessandro remained.
Alone.
Silent.
Dangerous.
His eyes drifted toward the rain-covered windows.
Then toward the east wing.
Toward Aurora.
Something about the image of her kneeling on cold marble floors while bleeding from her hands made his chest feel unbearably tight.
He hated the feeling.
Because Alessandro Moretti did not get emotionally attached.
Ever.
Yet somehow—
that girl with haunted eyes was already becoming a problem.
---
Aurora had fallen asleep sitting against the headboard.
The untouched strawberries still rested beside her tray.
The room remained softly lit by the fireplace, golden warmth filling the silence.
She looked smaller while sleeping.
Fragile.
One hand still curled tightly into the blanket as though afraid someone might steal it from her.
The bedroom door opened quietly.
Alessandro stepped inside without a sound.
His gaze immediately found her.
For several seconds, he simply stood there.
Watching.
Aurora’s face looked calmer asleep.
Less afraid.
But even now, her brows occasionally furrowed slightly like she was trapped inside bad dreams.
Alessandro noticed the untouched dessert first.
Then the way she had carefully folded the napkin afterward.
Precise.
Cautious.
Like someone terrified of making mistakes.
His expression darkened faintly.
A girl raised with affection would never behave like this.
He moved closer slowly.
Aurora stirred faintly in her sleep at the movement.
A soft sound escaped her lips.
"Mama…"
Alessandro stopped instantly.
The single word hit strangely hard.
Aurora’s breathing became uneven again.
Distressed.
Caught in some nightmare.
Without thinking—
Alessandro sat carefully on the edge of the bed.
His large hand moved toward her face before pausing briefly.
As though unfamiliar with gentleness himself.
Then slowly—
he brushed his fingers lightly through her hair.
"You’re safe," he said quietly.
Aurora relaxed almost immediately.
The tension leaving her body so suddenly made Alessandro go still.
Like she had trusted the comfort instinctively even while asleep.
Something dangerous twisted inside his chest again.
Protectiveness.
Possession.
And something else he refused to name.
Aurora shifted slightly, unconsciously leaning closer toward the warmth beside her.
Alessandro looked down at her for a long moment.
Then his eyes landed on her hands.
Raw.
Red.
Tiny cuts across her fingers from bleach and scrubbing brushes.
A shadow crossed his face.
Carefully, he reached for one of her hands.
Aurora flinched even in sleep.
His expression turned murderous instantly.
Whoever taught her to fear touch like this—
would suffer for it.
Slowly, Alessandro opened the bedside drawer and removed a small medical kit.
The most feared man in Europe sat silently beside the bed at two in the morning—
cleaning blood from Aurora Sinclair’s cracked hands with impossible gentleness.
Aurora stirred again halfway through.
Her eyes fluttered open weakly.
Confused.
Sleepy.
For several seconds she simply stared at him.
At Alessandro Moretti sitting beside her bed.
Holding her injured hand carefully in his larger one.
Aurora’s brain stopped functioning.
"…What are you doing?" she whispered.
Alessandro didn’t release her hand.
"Your hands are injured."
Like that explained everything.
Aurora stared at him in disbelief.
No one had ever noticed her injuries before unless they caused inconvenience.
"You should’ve called a doctor," he said calmly while applying ointment. "These cuts could become infected."
Aurora looked genuinely alarmed now.
"I-I’m sorry—"
Alessandro looked up immediately.
That dangerous calm returned.
"Why do you apologize for being hurt?"
Aurora froze.
Because she didn’t know the answer.
Or maybe she did.
People only got angry when she was injured.
Bleeding meant making a mess.
Bruises meant becoming difficult to work with.
Pain had always been treated like failure.
The silence stretched too long.
Then unexpectedly—
Alessandro lifted her bandaged hand toward his lips.
And pressed the softest kiss against her knuckles.
Aurora’s heart stopped.
"No one will hurt you here," he said quietly.
The sincerity in his voice terrified her more than threats ever could.
Because for the first time in her life—
Aurora wanted to believe someone.
Aurora couldn’t sleep after that.
Even long after Alessandro left the room, her pulse still refused to calm.
She sat curled beneath the blankets, staring at her freshly bandaged hands like they belonged to someone else.
Carefully wrapped.
Treated gently.
As though her pain actually mattered.
The thought felt foreign.
Dangerous.
Aurora touched the edge of the bandage softly.
Then immediately pulled her hand back.
No.
She couldn’t let herself get attached to kindness this quickly.
People changed.
People lied.
People pretended.
And powerful men were the worst of all.
Still…
her chest hurt strangely when she remembered the way Alessandro had looked at her while cleaning her wounds.
Not disgusted.
Not annoyed.
Angry.
As though someone hurting her had personally offended him.
Aurora buried her face against her knees.
Why?
---
The next morning—
Aurora woke slowly to sunlight spilling across the massive bedroom.
For one peaceful second, she forgot where she was.
Then reality returned instantly.
The Moretti mansion.
Alessandro.
The marriage.
Fear curled immediately inside her stomach.
Aurora climbed out of bed carefully, startled again by how soft the carpet felt beneath her feet.
A fresh dress had already been laid out for her.
Cream-colored.
Elegant.
Far too beautiful for someone like her.
Beside it sat a handwritten note.
Breakfast at 8. Eat properly. — A.M.
Aurora stared at the note for a long moment.
No insults.
No orders.
No criticism.
Just… eat properly.
Something about that nearly made her emotional again.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
Maria entered with a warm smile. "Good morning, miss."
Aurora immediately stood straighter. "Good morning."
Maria glanced at the untouched note knowingly.
"The master rarely writes notes himself."
Aurora looked down quickly.
"Oh…"
Maria’s eyes softened.
"He also canceled three meetings this morning."
Aurora blinked in confusion. "Why?"
Maria hesitated carefully before answering.
"Because he instructed the kitchen to prepare breakfast personally."
Aurora stared at her.
Surely not for her.
That would make no sense.
Maria smiled faintly at Aurora’s bewildered expression.
"You should hurry before the food gets cold."
---
The dining hall was enormous.
Far too enormous for only two people.
Aurora stepped inside nervously, immediately spotting Alessandro seated at the far end of the table.
Dark suit.
Silver watch.
Expression unreadable behind the morning newspaper in his hand.
He looked less like a man and more like something dangerous pretending to be civilized.
Aurora slowed instinctively.
Alessandro lowered the newspaper slightly the moment he noticed her.
His eyes immediately swept over her appearance.
The dress.
The bandages.
The exhaustion beneath her eyes.
Then he folded the newspaper neatly.
"Sit."
Aurora obeyed quietly.
The table was already filled with food.
Fresh pastries.
Fruit.
Coffee.
Pancakes.
Eggs.
Enough to feed ten people.
Aurora became visibly nervous.
At the Sinclair estate, eating too much often resulted in punishment.
Alessandro noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
"You keep looking at the food like it’s a trap," he said calmly.
Aurora lowered her gaze quickly. "Sorry."
There it was again.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
The word followed her everywhere.
Alessandro leaned back slightly, studying her.
"Who taught you that?"
Aurora looked confused. "What?"
"To apologize every time you breathe."
The question caught her off guard.
Aurora opened her mouth—
then closed it again.
Because she genuinely didn’t know.
Or maybe she knew too well.
Silence stretched between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just heavy.
Then Alessandro reached toward the center of the table and placed a strawberry onto Aurora’s plate.
A simple action.
Yet Aurora looked stunned by it.
"Eat," he said quietly.
Aurora hesitated before taking a small bite.
The sweetness nearly overwhelmed her.
She hadn’t tasted strawberries this fresh in years.
Alessandro watched her carefully the entire time.
Not in a cruel way.
More like he was memorizing every tiny reaction she made.
Aurora became increasingly aware of his gaze.
"Why are you staring at me?" she whispered before she could stop herself.
Alessandro answered immediately.
"Because I can."
Aurora nearly choked on her tea.
A faint amusement flickered briefly in his gray eyes.
Gone a second later.
Then suddenly—
one of the guards entered the dining hall quickly.
"Sir."
Alessandro’s expression hardened instantly. "What?"
The guard hesitated.
"There’s a situation at the front gate."
Aurora tensed automatically.
Alessandro noticed.
"Who?"
The guard looked uneasy now.
"Richard Sinclair is here."
The fork slipped from Aurora’s fingers.
Her face lost all color immediately.
Fear.
Pure instinctive fear.
Alessandro saw it.
And something cold entered his expression.
"He’s demanding to see Miss Aurora," the guard continued carefully. "He says she belongs to him."
The entire room fell silent.
Aurora’s breathing became shaky instantly.
Memories crashed into her mind—
Richard’s voice.
The punishments.
The screaming.
The humiliation.
She instinctively shrank back in her chair.
And Alessandro—
Alessandro looked at her trembling hands once before standing slowly from the table.
Terrifying calm settled across his face.
"Tell Richard Sinclair," he said softly,
"that he no longer owns anything under my protection."
to be continued 🔚
- Writer
