Chapter 4

ARIA POV

I don’t sleep.

I lay there until the sky went gray, listening to the house breathe. The Moretti house doesn’t sound like other houses. It creaks, but not like wood. It’s marble shifting. It’s air vents. It’s the sound of money settling.

At 7am there’s a knock.

"Breakfast in 20," Nico’s voice. Soft. Like he’s afraid of waking me.

"Okay," I say.

I wash my face with cold water because the hot takes too long to heat. I put on the uniform they left in my closet. Black pants, black shirt. No dress this time. No name tag. Just staff. Anonymous. Safe.

The dining room is huge. Longer table than my whole apartment. Crystal glasses that probably cost more than my rent.

They’re all there.

Luca at the head, coffee, reading something on a tablet. No look up. Like I’m furniture.

Enzo, eating like he’s timing himself. Efficient. No wasted movement.

Nico, pushing eggs around his plate. He looks like he didn’t sleep either.

Dante, at the far end, not eating. Just watching the door. Always the door.

And Marco.

Marco’s in a hoodie, hair wet, grinning when he sees me.

"Morning, rule-breaker," he says.

"Morning," I mumble.

I take the empty seat. The one in the middle. Stupid choice. Too exposed.

No one talks. Just forks and knives. The sound is loud in this room.

Until Luca sets his tablet down.

"Victoria called," he says. "She’s coming for breakfast."

The air changes. It gets heavier.

Marco stops chewing. "She’s not invited."

"She invited herself," Luca says. "Said she wanted to meet the new staff."

Nico sighs. Enzo doesn’t react. Dante’s eyes go to me.

"Don’t talk to her," Luca tells me. His voice is flat. "Don’t look at her. Don’t answer her. You hear me?"

"Yes."

My stomach drops. I’m not hungry anymore.

10 minutes later the doors open.

Victoria.

Same red dress. Different day. Hair perfect, heels clicking like gunshots on the marble. She smells expensive and mean.

She scans the table, and when she sees me, her smile gets sharp.

"Oh," she says. "You’re really here."

No one answers her.

She sits next to Luca. He doesn’t move over. Doesn’t acknowledge her.

"Morning boys," she says, sweet. "Missed you."

Marco snorts. "We noticed."

Victoria ignores him. Her eyes are on me.

"So," she says. "What are you? Maid? Cook?"

I keep my eyes on my plate. The eggs are cold now.

"She doesn’t speak to guests," Luca says.

"I’m not a guest," Victoria says. "I’m family."

No one corrects her.

She leans forward. "Aria, right? That’s what the tag said."

I don’t look up.

"Cat got your tongue? Or did you use it all up begging yesterday?"

My hands shake under the table. I press them into my thighs.

I feel Marco shift next to me. His knee brushes mine. On purpose?

"Victoria," Luca says. Warning. One word.

"What? I’m just making conversation." She picks up my orange juice and drinks it. "Oops. Sorry. Staff should learn to label things."

That’s it.

Something snaps in my chest.

I look up.

"Don’t touch my things," I say. My voice is quiet but it cuts through the room.

The room goes still.

Victoria blinks. "Excuse me?"

"I said don’t touch my things," I repeat. Louder this time. "You want juice, pour your own."

Marco chokes on a laugh. Covers it with a cough.

Luca’s jaw ticks. He’s not mad. He’s... assessing. Like I’m a problem he didn’t account for.

Nico looks like he wants to disappear. Enzo raises an eyebrow. Dante just watches.

Victoria’s face goes red. "You little—"

"Victoria," Luca cuts in. "Leave."

"I’m not done—"

"I said leave."

She stands. Slams her glass down. Juice spills across the table, across the white tablecloth.

"This isn’t over," she says to me. "You think because they feel sorry for you—"

"I think," Marco interrupts, standing too, "that you should go before I say something I’ll regret."

Victoria looks at him. Really looks. Like she’s seeing him for the first time in years.

"You’re choosing her," she says.

"I’m choosing not to be cruel for sport," Marco says. "There’s a difference."

She storms out. The doors slam so hard the glasses rattle.

Silence.

Luca picks up a napkin, wipes the juice. Slow. Deliberate.

"You spoke," he says to me.

"Yes."

"Good," he says. Then he looks at Marco. "And you defended her. Again."

Marco shrugs. "She was being an asshole."

"She’s dangerous," Luca says. "And now she knows your name."

He’s talking to me.

"I can handle it," I say.

"Can you?" Luca asks. "Because the last person who talked back to a Caruso ended up in the river."

My blood goes cold.

"Was that a threat?" I ask.

"It was a fact," Luca says. He stands. "Finish breakfast. Then come to my office. We need to discuss boundaries."

He leaves. Enzo follows. Dante too. No words.

That leaves me, Nico, and Marco.

Nico pushes his plate away. "You okay?" he asks me. Quiet.

"I’m fine."

"You didn’t have to do that," he says. "With Victoria."

"I did," I say. "She started it."

Marco hasn’t sat back down. He’s looking at me like I’m something new. Like I’m a math problem he can’t solve.

"What?" I ask him.

"Nothing," he says. Then grins. "Just... you didn’t bow."

"Neither did you."

"Fair." He leans on the table. "Office after this. Don’t be late."

He walks out, whistling. Like we didn’t just have a standoff with Victoria Caruso.

Nico waits until he’s gone. "Be careful with him," Nico says. "Marco doesn’t pick favorites."

"What does that mean?"

"It means when he does, people get hurt." He says it like he’s lived it.

"Did he pick a favorite before?" I ask.

Nico shakes his head. "Not in a long time."

He leaves too.

I sit there, alone with cold eggs and spilled juice, and think:

I’ve been here less than 24 hours and I already have two enemies and one brother who looks at me like I’m a problem.

The house is quiet again. Too quiet.

I can still hear Victoria’s heels in my head.

I can still feel Marco’s knee against mine.

I stand up. My legs are shaky.

On my way out, I pass the window. Outside, the gates are opening. A black car is pulling in.

Not Victoria’s.

Someone else.

A man gets out. Suit. Sunglasses. He looks up at the house and I swear he’s looking right at me.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I didn’t know I had service in here.

Unknown number.

One text: _You shouldn’t have talked back. -V_

I delete it.