Chapter 4
936 Words
Elena's Pov
I stepped into the sweeping entry of the Moretti manor, the soft snap of my shoes on the shining marble floor echoing in the vast emptiness. The scent of old wood and perfumy gardenias enveloped me, a rich but stifling reminder of the weight I bore. The crystal above bathed light upon the rich splendor that awaited me, yet was unable to cut the chill that clung to the air.
As I entered the house, the silence was broken by the creak of oncoming footsteps. Rosa stood up from the corridor, her arms crossed and a cunning smile spreading across her lips.
"There you are," she said, a mixture of relief and question in her voice. "Your uncle was worried. He waited until ten, then instructed that you go see him in the morning."
I glanced up at the ticking old clock on the wall. It was long past midnight already. Time had slipped away from us without us noticing.
Rosa's eyes became cold as she stared at me. "But more importantly, why that smile?"
I blinked in surprise. "Smile?"
She smiled gently, stepping forward. "Don't play games, Elena. You walked in here like a woman who'd just discovered the secret to happiness. I knew you were at the charity but who is the source of that glow?"
I hesitated, the night catching up with me. The event, the rooftop. Marco.
We walked into the cozy den, the sole room in the house with life. Rosa curled up into the armchair, and I fell into the plush cushioning of the sofa, draping a throw blanket around my legs.
"I saw him," I began, my voice barely above a whisper. "Marco DeLuca."
Rosa's eyes widened. "The guy you were standing with the other night you mean."
I nodded. "Yes, him. He's a DeLuca."
She leaned forward, her interest keen. "Tell me everything."
I relived the night in vivid detail, the serendipitous encounter, the effortless talk, the manner in which he looked at me as though he actually saw me. I described to her the view from the roof, the laughter we exchanged, and the queries that probed more than anyone had ever tried to probe before.
Rosa listened to me attentively, a blend of astonishment and interest on her face.
When I was done, she relaxed back, absorbing everything. "Wow."
"I know," I said, the weight of the confession settling home. "It was a mistake. I know I shouldn't have lingered."
"But you did," she reminded me gently.
I nodded, his eyes seared in my memory. "He made me feel.seen. Like I wasn't Moretti to him, but human. But you know it can't go past that, grandpa will have my head."
Rosa placed her hand over mine. "Sometimes what you want is to decide in spite of what happens and decide anyway."
I stared at her, uncertain in my mind. "Even if it's dangerous?"
"Particularly then," she replied, her eyes unflinching.
There was a warm silence between us, punctuated by innuendo. Eventually, I stood up, kissed her forehead, and went upstairs.
I undressed in my bedroom, shedding the burgundy gown and donning a satin robe. The city streets shone outside the balcony, mirroring the turmoil within me. I stepped out, the night breeze caressing my skin lightly, the scent of night blooming jasmine following in the wind.
Leaning against the railing, I let my thoughts drift. The evening had stirred something within me, a hunger and a hope I wasn't aware of. The way Marco had looked at me, not as Moretti, but as Elena, had opened a door within me for something more.
Stepping back inside, I sat on the edge of my bed, reliving the situation. I leaned over to grab my phone, intending to check the time, when a text caught my eye.
A new text message.
Unknown Number:
Lunch tomorrow? —Marco
I breathed in sharply. I had not given him my number. How the f**k had he gotten it?
A mixture of surprise and excitement coursed through me. The lines between my family and his were set, yet he was reaching out to me.
I reread the message, undertones whirling in my mind. And why did the thought of seeing him again send me goosebumps?
I would care about how he got my number but for now, I had to focus on the butterflies summersulting in my belly.
……….
Early morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, bathing the room with a warm golden light. I rose to my feet, tension heavy on my shoulders. After a quick shower, I dressed myself in a simple yet elegant attire, a cream-colored blouse paired with well-fitted pants.
Rosa was already up in the kitchen downstairs, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting in the air.
"Morning," she greeted me with a smile that told volumes.
"Morning," I replied, pouring a cup.
She c****d an eyebrow. "So, did you sleep at all?"
I shook my head, drinking the coffee. "Not really." I hesitated, then added. "He asked me out to lunch."
Her eyes widened. "And?"
"That's not the point Rosa, focus. I didn't give him my number," I said, the knowledge still making me uncomfortable.
Rosa's expression turned serious as if taking in the news and finally, she broke into a smile.. "You don't say.” she squealed. “That is some level of commitment right there Tesoro.”
"I know," I told her, the weight of her words bearing down on me. But I wasn't sure I wanted him to show that level of commitment. I wasn't sure what I wanted at all.
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