Chapter 11: Unwelcome Interest

Aria’s POV

I had officially become suspicious of everyone in the Ciel family.

Romano was secretive.

Dante enjoyed causing problems.

And Enzo Ciel looked at me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

Ever since the council dinner, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his expression had changed when he heard my surname.

Vale.

Just Vale.

A name I had lived with my entire life.

A name that apparently had the power to make one of the most feared men in Italy look unsettled.

Which meant there was something I didn’t know.

And I hated not knowing things.

I found Romano in his office later that morning. He was sitting behind his desk surrounded by documents, looking exactly like the intimidating businessman he pretended to be.

I walked in without knocking.

He didn’t even look up.

“You’re developing a bad habit.”

“What?”

“Entering rooms like you own them.”

I sat down opposite him.

“I learned from you.”

That got his attention.

His eyes lifted from the paperwork.

“You’ve become annoying.”

“I’ve always been annoying.”

“Fair.”

I folded my arms.

“We need to talk.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“It’s about your father.”

Immediately, the amusement disappeared from his face.

“What about him?”

“He knows something.”

Romano leaned back slightly.

“We’ve already established that.”

“No. I mean he really knows something.”

I thought about the dinner again.

The way Enzo had frozen.

The way he had stared at me.

The shock.

The recognition.

The fear.

None of it made sense.

“My surname means something to him.”

Romano was quiet for a moment.

“I know.”

“Did you ask him?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“He told me to mind my business.”

I blinked.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“Your family has terrible communication skills.”

A laugh escaped him before he could stop it.

A real one.

Not the small almost-smiles he usually gave.

An actual laugh.

For a second, I forgot what we were talking about.

Then he noticed me staring.

Unfortunately.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You were staring.”

“So were you.”

His eyes narrowed.

My smile widened.

Victory.

Before either of us could continue, Dante appeared in the doorway.

“Good. You’re both here.”

Romano sighed immediately.

That couldn’t be a good sign.

“What now?”

Dante grinned.

“You’re going out tonight.”

“No.”

“Absolutely not.”

He ignored both of us.

“There is a charity gala.”

I groaned.

Romano looked equally unimpressed.

“I’ve attended three events this week.”

“You’ll survive one more.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

I looked between them.

“You two argue like an old married couple.”

Dante looked delighted as he spoke and Romano looked offended.

I suddenly became very interested in the ceiling.

“Anyway,” Dante continued. “Important people will be there.”

Romano sighed.

“Who?”

A strange smile appeared on Dante’s face.

“Thomas Rinaldi.”

The room became quiet.

I noticed immediately.

Because for the first time all morning, Romano looked irritated.

Not angry.

Not annoyed.

Irritated.

Which was somehow worse.

“Who is Thomas?” I asked.

Dante answered first.

“Rich.”

Romano looked away.

“Arrogant.”

“Charming.”

“Manipulative.”

“Successful.”

“Insufferable.”

I looked between them.

“Do you like him?”

“No.”

They answered at exactly the same time.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

The gala was held in one of the most expensive hotels in Milan.

Apparently rich people enjoyed gathering together in giant rooms and pretending they weren’t judging each other.

I was beginning to understand why Romano hated these events.

By the time we entered the ballroom, I already wanted to leave.

“Relax.”

I glanced at Romano.

“I’m relaxed.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

“You’ve been crushing my arm for the last five minutes.”

I immediately let go.

“That never happened.”

His mouth twitched.

Unfortunately, I noticed.

The evening began normally.

Conversations.

Introductions.

Smiles.

People pretending they weren’t interested in me while very obviously being interested in me.

Then the atmosphere shifted.

Subtly.

Heads turned.

Conversations paused.

A few people smiled.

Someone important had arrived.

I followed everyone’s gaze toward the entrance.

And saw him.

Tall.

Dark-haired.

Confident.

Not in the same way as Romano.

Romano’s confidence felt dangerous while his confidence felt effortless.

Like he expected the world to like him and somehow it did. He moved through the crowd easily, greeting people and making everyone laugh, then his gaze landed on me and he smiled.

Uh oh.

“That’s Thomas?” I asked.

Romano’s jaw tightened.

“Unfortunately.”

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Thomas started walking toward us.

The closer he got, the less pleased Romano looked.

I was suddenly enjoying myself.

“Romano.”

Thomas extended his hand.

Romano shook it.

Barely.

“Thomas.”

Then Thomas looked at me.

His smile widened.

“So you’re real.”

I blinked.

“What?”

“The mysterious fiancée.”

He placed a hand over his chest dramatically.

“I was beginning to think Romano invented you.”

I laughed, actually laughed.

Beside me, Romano looked deeply offended.

Thomas noticed and seemed delighted by it.

“I’m Aria.”

“I know.”

The answer was smooth, too smooth.

“You’ve heard of me?”

“The entire country has heard of you.”

Fair point.

“You handled the media better than I would have.”

I smiled.

“I highly doubt that.”

“You’d be surprised.”

For the next several minutes, the conversation flowed surprisingly easily.

Thomas was funny.

He somehow managed to make people comfortable within seconds.

The complete opposite of Romano.

Which explained why they clearly disliked each other.

At one point Thomas made a joke about journalists.

I laughed.

When I looked up, Romano was watching us.

Not the conversation.

Us.

The realization made something strange happen in my stomach, something I immediately ignored. Thomas didn’t and his eyes flickered between us.

Thoughtful.

Interested.

Then he smiled again and somehow I knew he had noticed something.

The same thing I had.

Across the ballroom, Enzo Ciel stood alone.

Watching.

Waiting.

Thinking.

A man approached him quietly.

“Sir.”

Enzo accepted the folder without looking away from the crowd.

“Well?”

“Everything we could find.”

The investigator stepped back.

Enzo waited until he was alone before opening the file.

The first page contained a photograph.

Aria Vale.

The same face.

The same eyes as she had as a kid.

The same surname.

His expression hardened.

He turned the page

Then another.

And another.

The deeper he read, the colder his expression became.

Because none of it made sense, the time line, the records and family history, none of it made sense.

Across the room, Romano was standing beside Aria and watching Thomas, and watching her.

Enzo noticed immediately.

His jaw tightened.

That was a problem for another day.

Right now, he had a bigger one.

He looked back at the file.

Then reread a particular section.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

No.

Impossible.

Slowly, he lifted his head.

His gaze found Aria across the ballroom.

At the exact same moment Romano realized he was watching Thomas far more than necessary.

And at the exact same moment Thomas made Aria laugh again.

Three different men.

Three different reasons.

One woman.

Enzo stared at the file in his hand.

Then whispered words he never thought he’d say again.

“Dear God.”

Because if the information in front of him was true—

Everything they believed about the Vale family was wrong.