Novels by Lizzy

The morning sunlight slipped through the curtains, painting lines across the floor. I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands pressed against my knees, trying to steady the storm inside me. For once, Luciano was still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. His face looked softer in sleep, almost human, almost vulnerable. But I knew better. He was a man built from fire and shadows, and every time I thought I understood him, something new unraveled.I touched his hand gently, almost afraid he would wake. My mind kept circling back to what Isadora had said—the revelation that my father was alive. That truth had turned everything I thought I knew upside down. And now… now I couldn’t stop asking myself: Was Luciano protecting me, or keeping me from the truth?I didn’t wake him. Instead, I slipped quietly from the bed, pulled a robe around me, and walked into the hall. The house was quiet, too quiet. The silence carried weight, the kind of silence before something breaks.As I

The moment Isadora said those words, my whole world tilted.The Council knows.I couldn’t move. Couldn’t even breathe. My body felt frozen, like I had been turned to stone, while inside, my heart pounded so hard it hurt.Luciano didn’t flinch. His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing like he had expected this all along. But I saw it—just for a second. That flicker of fear in his eyes.“They can’t know everything,” he said flatly, his voice sharp as glass. “They’re testing us. They want me to make a mistake.”But Isadora shook her head. “No. They know, Luciano. About Father. About Aria. About Lorenzo’s betrayal. They know it all. And they won’t wait long before they act.”My knees felt weak. I gripped the edge of the desk just to stay standing. “What does that mean?” I asked, my voice trembling.Isadora’s eyes met mine, pity swimming in them. “It means they’ll come for you, Aria. To use you against him. To break him.”I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to keep my heart from breaking fre

I couldn’t breathe.The sound of glass shattering still rang in my ears, sharp and violent, like the world itself had cracked open. My hands trembled as I pressed them against my chest, trying to hold myself together. But no matter how hard I pressed, it felt like everything inside me was spilling out.Luciano stood in front of me, his face as hard as stone. His eyes, those deep, dangerous eyes, were locked on mine. They burned with a fire I didn’t know how to face. For a moment, I couldn’t tell if he wanted to destroy me or hold me close until I disappeared inside him.“Aria,” he said at last, his voice low and sharp, like the edge of a blade.I swallowed, but my throat was dry. My lips parted, but no words came out.“What you did,” he continued, his steps closing the space between us, “it broke something in me.”His words hit me harder than any gunshot ever could. I wanted to explain, to scream that I never meant to hurt him, that every choice I made was to survive. But my voice was

The morning light didn’t bring peace.It only made everything outside more visible—the shadows of the trees, the glint of something metallic near the garden wall, the faint movement of men where they thought they couldn’t be seen.They were still there.Waiting.I stayed close to Luciano, watching every rise and fall of his chest, but my mind spun in circles. Rosa’s words echoed over and over. We must send for help.She was right. If I kept pretending we could hold out alone, I was lying to myself.But who could I trust?Who would even come?I brushed my hand over Luciano’s cheek. His skin was still pale, his lips dry. When his eyes opened, he looked at me like he already knew the storm outside, like he always knew.“You’re thinking too loudly,” he murmured.I tried to smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “I’m just… planning.”“Planning to run?”“No.” My voice cracked, too raw. “Planning to save you.”His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Maybe he was too tired. Maybe he trusted me.

I woke before the sun.The room was still dark, the air cool, but my eyes shot open the moment I felt Luciano shift beside me. His breathing hitched, a faint sound of pain escaping his lips.“Luciano?” My voice was barely a whisper.His eyes opened slowly, heavy with exhaustion. The light from the small lamp glowed against his sharp features, even paler now, but alive. Always that word—alive.“Go back to sleep,” he rasped.“As if I could,” I muttered, sitting up so I could look at him properly. “You win the award for worst patient alive.”He smirked faintly, though his body tensed when he tried to adjust. “I don’t like being weak.”My chest ached at the admission. He hated this—the stillness, the dependence, the fact that he wasn’t in control. I leaned close, brushing my fingers along his jaw. “You’re not weak. You’re recovering. That’s different.”His dark eyes searched mine, as though weighing my words. Finally, he sighed and closed them again. “You’ll make a liar of me, Aria. You’l

I didn’t sleep at all.How could I, when every second I spent watching Luciano breathe felt like a prayer? His chest rises and falls, slower than I’d like, weaker than it should be, but he’s alive. That’s all that matters.Alive.The word feels like a miracle.My fingers won’t stop clinging to his hand, as if the moment I let go, I’ll lose him again. I keep whispering his name under my breath, afraid that silence will swallow him. Afraid that if I stop calling him, his soul will drift away.He stirred hours ago. Opened his eyes for a moment. Spoke to me, rasping the words that still burn in my chest: You love me.Yes, I do. God help me, I love him.Now he’s resting again. His eyes are closed, his body still weak from the blood loss, the pain, the fight that almost stole him from me. I can’t erase the image of his body collapsing, of his blood staining my hands, of me screaming until my throat burned raw.I swallow hard, forcing myself not to cry again. He’s alive. He’s here.I brush h