Chapter 18: Whispers in the Walls

The rain came lightly in the early afternoon—thin, hesitant droplets brushing the wide windows of the villa like fingers searching for a way in. Siena sat alone on the edge of the small balcony outside Lucia’s room, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her tea untouched on the small table beside her.

Lucia was sleeping again. Peacefully, this time. The doctors had adjusted her medication, and her breathing had steadied. Siena had watched her daughter’s chest rise and fall for nearly an hour before she allowed herself to exhale.

And now… now the silence was dangerous.

Because in silence, thoughts grew wild.

She stared out over the garden — stone pathways, trimmed hedges, iron fences. All of it flawless. All of it locked in place like a well-oiled machine.

Just like him.

Adriano.

She didn’t want to think about him. But she always did.

Ever since they arrived in Geneva, he’d kept his distance. He hadn’t touched her again. Hadn’t pushed. Hadn’t even raised his voice. But Siena could still feel his presence everywhere — in the quiet efficiency of the staff, in the weight of the walls, in the way nothing ever went wrong in this house. It was all him.

His world.

His control.

And somehow… she was still inside it.

Not as a prisoner. Not entirely.

But not free either.

Her eyes drifted back to the garden.

They were safe here. For now. But the longer they stayed, the more Siena began to sense it — a tension under the surface. As if this calm was borrowed. Stolen, maybe. And somewhere, someone was waiting to collect the debt.

She didn't know where the feeling came from.

She just knew it was real.

The door behind her opened.

She turned slowly, expecting one of the nurses.

But it wasn’t.

It was Zara.

The assistant moved silently onto the balcony, hands folded in front of her. Always composed. Always unreadable.

“Is everything alright?” Siena asked.

Zara nodded once. “Yes, Miss Costa. The staff is just… tightening security.”

Siena tensed. “Why?”

A pause.

Then Zara answered quietly, “There’s been movement in Milan. Mr. Valtasari has been informed.”

Siena’s heart dropped.

She stood up. “What kind of movement?”

“I don’t know the details,” Zara said carefully. “But Mr. Valtasari has doubled the security perimeter. He’s… concerned.”

“About what?”

But Zara didn’t answer. Only offered a slight bow of her head.

“If you need anything, I’ll be just outside.”

And then she was gone.

Siena turned back toward the glass. But the garden no longer felt peaceful.

Now it looked like a trap.

---

The soft slap of her bare feet against the marble floor echoed like a warning through the hallway. Siena moved with purpose, the blanket still clutched around her shoulders, her breath tight in her lungs. She didn’t knock when she reached his study. She pushed the door open with a force that made it bang against the wall.

Adriano looked up from his desk, mid-call, eyes narrowing slightly.

“I’ll call you back,” he said into the phone, voice calm but clipped. He ended the call and set the device down without breaking eye contact.

“Siena,” he said evenly, leaning back in the chair, “I told Zara to —”

“I don’t want to talk to Zara,” she snapped. “I want to talk to you.”

Adriano’s jaw flexed.

She stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. The click sounded louder than it should have.

“What’s happening?” she demanded. “What kind of movement in Milan? Why are your men suddenly crawling all over the perimeter like we’re under siege?”

He didn’t answer right away.

“Don’t lie to me,” she warned.

“I’m not,” he said softly. “But I didn’t want you to worry.”

She scoffed, stepping closer. “Too late.”

Adriano rose from his chair, slow and deliberate. His sleeves were rolled to the elbow, the top buttons of his shirt undone. He looked less like a crime lord and more like a man worn thin by too many sleepless nights.

“I was going to tell you,” he said.

“When?” she shot back. “After something exploded? After someone walked through those gates with a gun?”

He exhaled sharply. “You think I’d ever let that happen?”

She didn’t back down. “You promised she’d be safe.”

Silence.

Then, a beat later, his voice dropped to a growl: “And I will die keeping that promise.”

The words landed like a gunshot between them.

Siena flinched. She hadn’t expected him to say that. Not like that. With so much… finality.

“I meant it,” he continued, stepping closer. “I meant every word I said when I brought you here. Whatever’s stirring back in Milan — whoever’s behind it — it doesn’t matter. Because they’d have to burn through hell to reach her. And they’ll have to go through me first.”

She searched his face. “And if they do?”

His mouth tightened. “Then they won’t leave alive.”

Siena folded her arms, trying to protect herself from the panic clawing up her throat.

“I didn’t ask for this war,” she said quietly.

“I know,” he murmured. “But you’re in it. Because I’m in it. And because she’s mine.”

Something flickered in her chest — fury, fear, love, confusion.

“You think I care whose blood she shares?” she said. “I care that she’s breathing. That she’s smiling. That she’s safe.”

Adriano nodded. “Then we’re on the same side.”

They stood there, two storms barely contained. The distance between them small, but filled with every unsaid word.

“You should have told me,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“You don’t get to decide what I can handle.”

“I know that too.”

He stepped even closer now. “But this isn’t about you handling it. It’s about me not letting you.”

Their eyes locked.

Siena’s voice trembled. “I’m scared.”

Adriano nodded once. “So am I.”

Another silence.

A heavy, fragile thread tied between them.

Then Siena stepped back, fingers trembling at her sides.

“I’m going to check on Lucia.”

Adriano watched her turn, his throat working like he wanted to say something more — but he didn’t.

She left the room, but the promise lingered in the air behind her:

He would die before he let anyone touch what was his.

---

Siena had just stepped out of the study when the first sign of trouble came.

A muffled voice — hurried, low — from the end of the hallway. She turned instinctively. A suited man was speaking into a concealed earpiece, his steps brisk as he passed. Another followed, then another.

Something shifted in the air.

The silence inside the villa wasn’t silence anymore — it was pressure. A warning.

Adriano emerged from the study just seconds later. His phone buzzed in his palm. He answered with a curt, “Speak.”

A pause. Then his entire body stilled.

Siena’s breath caught.

He didn’t move, didn’t blink. But she saw the change — that flicker behind his eyes, the one that said something had just gone terribly wrong.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice dangerously calm.

Another pause.

Then: “Lock everything. Now.”

He ended the call.

Siena’s stomach dropped. “What happened?”

His jaw clenched. “They know we’re here.”

“Who?”

“My enemies,” he said simply. Coldly. “The ones who shouldn’t.”

A door slammed downstairs. A guard barked an order. The entire villa seemed to shift from serenity to siege.

Siena stepped closer. “What does that mean?”

Adriano turned to her slowly. His eyes had gone from glassy warmth to something dark. Unforgiving. Territorial.

“It means,” he said, voice low, “I was right to bring you here.”

She swallowed. “We need to get Lucia out —”

“She’s staying,” he snapped. “She’s safer behind these walls than anywhere else on this earth.”

Siena flinched. “You said no one knew —”

“I said I thought no one knew. I was wrong.”

For a moment, the room trembled with silence.

Then, something in him shifted again.

It was subtle — a twitch of his jaw, a twitch in his fingers — but she felt it.

His gaze dropped to her lips.

And just like that… the storm changed direction.

“You came to my study,” he said softly, like it meant something more than it should have.

“I came for answers.”

“No,” he said. “You came because you still trust me.”

Siena took a step back. “That’s not why.”

“You’re still here.”

“I’m here for Lucia.”

He moved faster than she could react — one step, then another, until she was against the wall, breath caught in her throat.

He didn’t touch her.

Not yet.

But his hands planted on either side of her head, and the air between them grew heavy with something far more dangerous than fear.

“I told myself I brought you here because of her,” he said, voice low and hoarse. “But that’s not the whole truth, Siena.”

Her pulse thundered in her ears.

“I’ve built empires,” he whispered. “Burned cities. Buried men for less than what you did to me. And yet —”

He leaned in, so close she could feel the heat of his breath.

“— I never stopped wanting you.”

Siena’s hand found the wall behind her, steadying herself.

“This isn’t the time —”

“It’s always the time,” he growled. “Because every time you look at me, every time you breathe near me, I forget everything else. Geneva. Enemies. Blood. None of it matters.”

She shook her head. “You don’t mean that —”

“I mean it more than I’ve meant anything in my goddamn life.”

His eyes dropped again — to her mouth, her throat, the rise and fall of her chest.

“I should be thinking about security protocols,” he murmured. “I should be calling in reinforcements.”

“Then do it,” she whispered, barely able to speak.

He didn’t.

Because at that moment, obsession overpowered reason.

His hand lifted — slow, reverent — and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Fingers lingered against her skin.

“Say it,” he said.

Her lips parted. “Say what?”

“That you feel it too.”

Siena’s eyes fluttered shut.

Because she did.

God help her… she did.

But then, just as his hand dropped to her waist — just as the moment was about to break —

A knock shattered the silence.

Zara’s voice, from beyond the door. “Sir. We have a problem.”

Adriano didn’t move right away.

He didn’t look away from Siena.

He just said, through gritted teeth:

“Handle it.”

And then, softer… just for Siena:

“Stay where I can see you.”

Then he was gone — back into the fire.

Leaving her heart pounding.

And her hands trembling.

---