Chapter Five — Fate...

Diana Cross

The past few weeks have been absurdly intense, and I can feel anxiety eating away at every inch of my chest.

Ever since running away from that masquerade ball—right after committing the second biggest madness of my life—I haven't had a single moment of peace.

The constant fear of being exposed or recognized in that elite environment left my nerves utterly shattered.

Not to mention the overwhelming memories of that man in the Venetian Domino mask, which simply refused to leave my mind.

The only physical memory I have of him is his black mask, which I grabbed instead of my own. His scent still lingers on it. Does he even remember me?

The possessive, dominant way he took me in that dark room remained seared into my memory and, above all, onto my body.

"Why are you so quiet today, Diana?" Beatriz's voice broke the heavy silence of the office.

She lowered the papers in her hands and studied me intently over her reading glasses, narrowing her eyes.

"You haven't opened your mouth since you got back from lunch," she remarked, resting her elbows on the desk.

"Oh, Bea... I'm really not feeling well today," I replied, massaging my temples with trembling fingers.

"I think I ate something bad at the restaurant, or maybe I'm coming down with a nasty bug," I offered, letting out a heavy sigh.

The truth was that I had been feeling extremely nauseous every morning, my body heavy with an unending fatigue.

To make matters worse, over the past few weeks I had to face endless pressure and setbacks that sapped my remaining strength.

My family kept suffocating me with demands to drop everything, forget the past, and move back to my hometown immediately.

They wanted me to play the victim, keep quiet, and act like a lapdog, accepting the humiliation with my head bowed.

But I was fiercely determined to endure the hardship of living alone here in Florence, giving up every comfort and support system they could offer.

Anything was infinitely better than accepting their hypocrisy and surrendering my precious dignity all over again.

"Have you seen a doctor about this?" Bea asked, softening her tone with genuine concern.

She pushed her chair back and took a step toward me, crossing her arms as she looked me up and down.

"Don't play around with your health, Diana. It's bad enough you're cooped up in that tiny apartment, running away from everyone."

She gently touched my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"You can't keep isolating yourself from the world like this, sweetie. Life keeps moving, and so must you."

"I know, Bea... I know," I whispered, averting my eyes toward my screen to hide the tears threatening to spill over.

"I might have gotten over Andrew, but the truth is I'm nowhere near ready to trust another soul."

"It was two deep betrayals, Bea. Two people I would have laid down my life for, and they destroyed me without mercy," I confessed in a whisper.

Remembering Andrew and my former best friend together in our bed only worsened my nausea, bringing a sharp, acidic taste to my mouth.

I swallowed hard, forcing my stomach to settle as a sudden wave of heat and dizziness washed over me.

Those two scoundrels deserved each other, and more than anything, I deserved to find my own happiness.

I truly just needed to dig deep and find the strength and courage to start over from scratch.

"Diana! I need you to head up to the executive suite right now!" my boss's voice boomed, making me jump.

He emerged abruptly from his office in a rush, clutching a heavy leather briefcase with a stressed expression.

"Deliver these documents directly to Lorenzo Bianchi. He needs to review and sign off on this project today, without fail," he ordered.

He dropped the report with a sharp thud onto my desk, turned on his heel, and retreated into his office, slamming the door.

I checked my watch and let out a heavy sigh of sheer frustration, my shoulders slumping in defeat.

Who asks for urgent document deliveries at this hour? It was nearly six in the evening, and I couldn't wait to escape to my sanctuary.

"The mailroom staff must have packed up and left ages ago," Bea commented, giving me a sympathetic look.

She immediately felt for my grim expression, offering a resigned half-smile as she gathered her belongings.

"Looks like I'll have to ascend to the corporate Olympus and meet the Zeus ruling this empire in person," I joked, trying to mask my dread.

I hugged the heavy folder against my chest and looked at my friend, a spark of genuine curiosity glinting in my eyes.

"Is he one of those grumpy, unbearable middle-aged executives?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, girl! You're in for a massive shock if you think that," Bea chuckled, shaking her head.

She pointed her pen toward the exit and gave me a playful wink, attempting to boost my spirits before I faced the head honcho.

"Go on, grab your things. Once you hand those over, you can head straight home."

"Just promise me one thing, Diana: stop by a clinic first to get that constant weakness checked out," she added sternly.

I hurriedly packed my bag, put on my coat, and said goodbye to my only loyal friend in this massive city.

I walked slowly toward the private elevator that leads straight to the dreaded, luxurious executive floor of Valmont & Co.

At this late hour, the building had quieted down significantly, with very few people left in the hallways.

Nearly every employee had wrapped up their exhausting workday and headed back home.

And that was exactly what I intended to do as fast as humanly possible, the moment I delivered these damn papers to the big boss.

Reaching the executive floor, I found an entirely empty layout bathed in a deathly, intimidating silence.

The space dripped with lavish luxury, polished marble and gold accents gleaming softly under muted chandeliers.

I knew powerful men loved showing off, but this crossed every line of excess, making me feel utterly insignificant.

Approaching the executive assistant's desk, I noticed the chair was vacant; she had undoubtedly called it a day.

I pressed the folder tighter against my chest, my heart hammering against my ribs. Is he still inside?

With slow, hesitant steps, I walked toward the imposing solid-wood door bearing the nameplate: CEO Lorenzo Bianchi.

I raised a trembling hand and knocked once, twice, but no one answered, leaving only the hollow echo in the corridor.

Swallowing hard, a sudden wave of nerve overcame me, and I slowly turned the handle to push the door open.

Instantly, a cold drop settled in my stomach, which was already churning from the nausea.

What if he's in there and snaps at me for invading his space unannounced? I thought, on the verge of stepping back.

"Excuse me..." I whispered, pushing the heavy door while stepping one foot inside the presidential office.

The words died in my throat, and I froze dead in my tracks, completely paralyzed by the figure before me.

He was hands down the most breathtaking man I had ever laid eyes on—a masterclass in masculinity and power.

An imposing stature, broad shoulders filling out a bespoke suit, golden skin, and perfectly styled dark hair.

His face looked meticulously sculpted by a god; in truth, he looked like an untouchable, dangerous deity.

When he finally looked up and registered my presence, his entire body froze in that exact microsecond.

Our eyes met in a sudden jolt of electricity, trapping us in a suffocating, hypnotic gaze neither of us could break.

Yet it wasn't his striking, intimidating beauty that drained the air right out of my lungs, leaving me in total panic.

My gaze drifted downward, locking onto something held between his long fingers—something he had been studying with dark fixation.

My God! No... This can't be real! A silent scream echoed in my mind as the blood drained from my face.

It was my mask. The exact black widow mask I had left behind on that dark floor after a night of pure passion.

A violent shockwave coursed down my spine as the pieces of this dangerous puzzle clicked together.

Could the commanding man standing in front of me be the very same breathtaking stranger I surrendered to so wildly at the ball?

The man who pinned me against the wall, devoured me without mercy, and brought me to the edge was the CEO of my company.

The sheer weight of that realization made my knees buckle, threatening to give out completely.

Lorenzo Bianchi rose slowly from the leather chair behind his executive desk, his eyes locked onto mine.

He began advancing toward me with deliberate, predatory strides, still holding the piece of black lace in one hand.

His gaze was intense, cool, and searching, taking in every detail of my pale face. Did he recognize me?

"Are you alright?" were the only words I managed to hear from him, his voice low and raspy in the quiet room.

He stopped just inches away, close enough for his electric presence to hit me like a force of nature.

And then came the final blow: I inhaled, catching the familiar woody scent radiating from his warm skin.

It was the exact same cologne of the Venetian Domino. The scent of the man who had shattered my defenses and claimed my body.

Absolute certainty crashed over me, and the last drop of energy left in my body simply vanished.

The folder slipped from my numb fingers, hitting the floor, as I lost all sight, touch, and sound around me.

Lorenzo Bianchi's face was the very last thing that flashed before my eyes before I plummeted into complete darkness.