The Devil in His Eyes

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven — Isabella

When I woke, the bed beside me was empty. The sheets were already cool, as if he had been gone for hours.

Relief slipped through me before I could stop it. God only knows where Adrian had disappeared to, but his absence filled me with something I hadn’t felt since the wedding—peace. For once, I could breathe without bracing myself.

I sat up slowly, blinking at the slivers of morning light that crept through the tall windows. My gaze fell on the corner of the room, where two of my suitcases rested neatly against the wall. A quiet smile touched my lips. Father must have sent them ahead of the ceremony. For all the distance between us, he had thought of me. My dresses, my books, my skincare bottles—tiny fragments of the world I’d known. I clung to that small comfort like an anchor.

I didn't have much time to tour the house yesterday so today I'm going yo make up for it.

So today was for exploring and touring this huge mansion and getting acquainted of this beautiful architecture

I freshened up, letting the warm water chase away the stiffness in my body. Routine steadied me: cleansing, moisturizing, smoothing serum across my skin, dabbing perfume at my wrist. Each step was familiar, grounding. When I dressed, I chose something simple, soft, a pale blouse that reminded me of spring mornings at home.

A knock interrupted me.

“Signora Moretti,” a maid’s voice called politely through the door. “The master requests your presence for breakfast.”

My pulse jumped, but I forced calm into my voice. “I’ll be down shortly.”

When I descended the grand staircase, I found him already at the long dining table. Adrian sat at the head, dressed in a black dress shirt paired with black dress pants, shirt open at the collar, posture composed and unreadable. His gaze lifted the moment I entered. I couldn’t read him—didn’t dare try—but I felt the weight of his eyes.

Before I could sit, an elderly maid approached with a warm smile. Adrian’s expression softened almost imperceptibly as he addressed her. “Thank you, Valerie,” he said, and for a fleeting moment, he seemed almost… human. Respectful, even. My chest tightened at the thought—was she something like a mother figure to him? It reminded me, painfully, that I hadn’t met his parents. I wondered what kind of people had raised a man like him.

Adrian rose then, and his voice cut across the room. “Isabella. There’s someone I want you to meet.”He spoke nicely and that surprised the f**k out of me.

A tall young man stepped forward from the shadows near the door. His build was athletic but not intimidating, his eyes sharp yet curious. “This is Matteo,” Adrian said. “Your new bodyguard.”

I blinked, surprised. My own bodyguard?

Matteo gave me a polite nod. He looked close to my age—closer than anyone else in this house. I found myself smiling, relieved at the thought of a companion who wasn’t twice my years. “Hi, Matteo,” I said softly. He returned the greeting, and for the first time that morning, I felt the possibility of friendship. I will have him talking and smiling with me by the end of this week.

Later, I made a point to speak with the maids as they moved about their duties. Most were reserved at first, but kindness, I learned, was a language that could soften anyone. Even Valerie, the elderly maid, let out a fond laugh when I asked if she could show me around.

She agreed, and soon I found myself walking the endless corridors of the mansion. Sunlight spilled through tall windows, catching on polished banisters and velvet curtains. There was beauty here, but also a suffocating sense of secrets hidden in its walls.

She showed me the ground floor which consisted of the kitchen, dining room, living room, his office, the laundry room, a few closet and two bathrooms.

“Does he live here alone” I asyher as we walked up the stairs.

“Yes signora” She replied and i wanted to correct her about the choice of name but decided to ask the question i have been wanting to ask.

“What about his parents” I mean he can't a huge mansion like this and live in it alone.

He even has a security booth at the entrance of the house, so he have got to be the son of a billionaire. My papa is rich and all but not this rich.

Then suddenly she stopped walking in the middle of the stairs and i accidentally slipped and started to fall back from her sudden halt but matteo was right behind to save me.

“I'm so sorry signora, but i cannot answer your questions” She bowed and started walking again.

Okay…

It's not my fault that my mind is so full of questions. Who wouldn't want to learn information about a stranger they call their husband.

We reached to the top of the stairs, where she showed me five bedrooms, two more bathrooms and a gym.

“Not all rooms are open to you, signora,” Valerie said gently as we passed a locked door on the third floor. Her voice lowered, conspiratorial. “This one, no one enters. The master forbids it. As well as his office.”

Her words settled in my chest like stones. I'm his wife. I wanted to say but i knew my place.

I glanced at the handle—an ornate brass piece, gleaming even in the dim light of the hallway. The keyhole looked ancient, as though it had swallowed too many secrets to ever be opened again.

“Why?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Valerie stiffened slightly, her fingers tightening around the silver tray she carried. “It is not my place to answer, signora,” she said, voice quieter now.

There was something in her eyes—fear, maybe, or loyalty. Or perhaps both.

I offered her a polite smile, pretending indifference. “Of course,” I murmured, though my gaze lingered on the door a moment longer.

We continued down the corridor, our footsteps echoing against the marble floor. The house was a labyrinth of shadows and polished silence, every corner whispering of something unspoken.

When we reached the end of the hall, Valerie hesitated. “If you need anything, signora, ring the bell. Dinner will be served at eight.”

I nodded, watching her retreat until her footsteps faded into the stillness. Then I turned back toward the forbidden door.

It loomed at the end of the corridor, dark and quiet, the air around it heavier somehow.

My husband’s rules already pressed against me like invisible bars.

But the more he tried to keep me away, the more I wanted to know what he was hiding.

And one way or another… I would find out.

Her words settled in my chest like stones.

Forbidden rooms. Secrets behind closed doors.

I kept my face neutral, but inside, curiosity bloomed. This house wasn’t just a fortress—it was a maze, one I would have to learn to navigate carefully.

And perhaps, one day, uncover.