Chapter one

Katrina’s POV

I stood in the sterile hospital hallway, the faint scent of disinfectant lingering in the air, and felt… nothing. My mother, Isabella Bellini, had just passed away from cancer, and her body had already been taken to the crematorium. I should have felt pain here, in my chest, or anywhere else.

I should have cried like everyone else around me, but I couldn’t even fake a single tear. The truth was, my mother and I had always been like two parallel lines. We never shared any real memories.

We hadn’t spoken in years. She barely acknowledged me when she was alive, probably because I reminded her too much of my father, who died shortly after I was born. Though I looked like a miniature version of her, there was something in me she never connected with, something I could never understand.

She didn’t move on immediately after my father’s death, which made me think she must have harbored resentment toward me, maybe because I was the only thing he left behind. Perhaps they had quarrels before he died, or maybe she just projected her bitterness onto me.

After fifteen years, she married a rich and powerful man, Lorenzo Romano. He seemed perfect for her extravagant style, though it was a life I never wanted. Isabella Bellini thrived in elite circles, knowing everyone on the social ladder, while I was her opposite.

After their marriage, I often felt invisible. I remembered sitting in the hospital waiting area during her treatments, watching her speak with Lorenzo while her back remained turned toward me. She had always done that—always looking ahead, never noticing me.

Soft footsteps echoed down the hallway, and I looked up. It was him—Lorenzo.

He was tall, over six feet, with broad shoulders and a commanding presence. His sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes could chill anyone, but they softened whenever they fell on me. There was something about him that made my stomach twist, something I could never admit to anyone. He was impossibly handsome, impossibly hot, and he was my stepfather. Yet no matter how much I tried to remind myself, I still found myself thinking of him in ways I shouldn’t, imagining him when I was alone, unable to resist the pull I felt toward him.

The first time I had seen him, I had assumed my mother had a thing for younger men, but in reality, he was older than she was. I hadn’t seen him in the five years I had been away at college, but now he looked even more striking than I remembered.

“Katrina,” he said, his voice low, smooth, and commanding while carrying a soft warmth. He placed a hand on my shoulder. Even though it was meant to be comforting, I shuddered, feeling a weak flutter in my knees.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he added, gently.

I swallowed hard and looked away. “T-thanks.”

Lorenzo stood beside me in silence for a moment, both of us staring down the empty hallway. He showed little emotion, only a faint frown. He didn’t cry, not like I expected him to.

“I… know you and your mother weren’t close,” he said after a pause. “But know this—I’ll take care of you now. So you don’t have to worry.”

I looked up at him, then quickly down again before being blinded by his presence. This was the first real conversation we had ever had. It lasted longer than expected, stirring something strange inside me.

“W-what do you mean? I’m an adult,” I stammered, betraying my racing thoughts.

“You’re here for your internship, right?” he asked, looking at me. I meekly nodded. “You start at my company next week.”

I stared at him in shock. This was Romano Enterprises we were talking about, the top real estate company in the country, competing internationally. They never accepted interns, no matter how exceptional.

“B-but there’s no internship program at Romano,” I stuttered.

“I can create one,” he said with a faint smirk before turning away. “Let’s go. I’ll drive you back to the house.”

Without looking back, he walked ahead. I glanced at my mother’s photograph one last time before following him. Looking back now, their life together hadn’t been intimate in any genuine way. He made the money, while she spent lavishly and mingled in elite circles. To the outside world, it had looked real, but behind the curtain, it might have been something else entirely.

Lorenzo was standing not far away, waiting for me. He held out his arm for me to hold onto as I reached him, and the thought made my knees weak.

“Again… but when next can I get this chance?” I hesitated, then looped my arm around his. My face flushed as I looked up at him, and I could tell he thought nothing of it, simply treating me as his own child. We headed toward his black SUV. My mother’s passing was behind me now, just like that—she was gone, forever.

The ride to the villa was quiet. Lorenzo didn’t say much, and I didn’t know what to say. The whole day had been a blur, from the moment I landed at the airport to rushing straight to my mother’s final moments. I hadn’t even thought about where I would stay, and she had never acted the way a mother should have toward me.

Even after I learned of her death, I had tried desperately to make her notice me, something she never would have done.

We arrived at the villa, the home we had shared before I left, and now it belonged entirely to him. The place was massive and cold. It didn’t feel like a home, which should be warm and comforting. It felt more like a museum than a residence.

“Welcome home,” he said softly as I stepped out of the car. He had always been gentle and caring toward my mother, and I had never given him the chance to be that way with me, but now, he was exactly as he had always been.

As we stepped out, one of the guards drove the car away, and a maid opened the door. “You can leave,” he said to her. She bowed and quietly exited.

The villa hadn’t changed much, but a few things had. My mother’s pictures were gone, replaced with new décor, and everything she had collected was removed. Lorenzo didn’t wait long to erase reminders of her. “Come, I’ll show you to your room,” he said.

“No, thanks… I’ll—” My words caught in my throat as I tripped, falling backward. My eyes widened in terror as I looked for something to grab, but suddenly, I was pulled up by the waist.

The warmth of Lorenzo’s strong hands around me made me look up at him. He steadied me until I was firmly on my feet, our bodies colliding. I let out a soft gasp.

That was when I realized my chest was pressed against his, the space between us nonexistent. His heartbeat was fast, and we remained like that for a few seconds. That was when I noticed it, an undeniable bulge pressing against me as he held me close.