LOGIN“Oh, Enzo—yes! Kiss me hard—”
That bitch.
She was on top of him, back arched, face flushed with lust. And she said that loud enough for me to hear.
His hands were on her. His mouth on her neck. She moaned, clinging to him like he was hers.
He ripped the strap of her dress down her shoulder. His back was to me. He couldn’t see me standing there. Couldn’t see the way my world cracked into shards with every groan that left his mouth.
Please look at me, Enzo. Please.
I begged silently.
But he didn’t turn.
She wouldn’t let him.
I stood frozen on the stairs.
Statue still. Breathless.
I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
I watched her drop to her knees.
I watched her mouth wrap around him.
My stomach turned. My throat burned.
He groaned—groaned—and grabbed a fistful of her hair. His hips moved like this was something he’d done with her before. Like it meant nothing.
She smirked at me. That bitch smirked.
She saw me. And she made damn sure I saw her.
My tears fell without permission.
I didn’t care.
I hated her.
I hated him.
But I couldn’t scream. Couldn’t stop it.
My body wouldn’t listen.
What if I called him? Would he stop?
Or would he just fuck her harder?
I turned away, bile crawling up my throat.
But the universe wasn’t done humiliating me. I tripped, knees hitting the marble floor hard.
“Ah—!”
Pain shot through my leg. My ankle twisted wrong.
I tried to stand—
Fell again.
Shit. I think I sprained it.
“Evelyn?!”
No.
No no no—shit. He saw me.
I couldn’t face him like this. Not now. Not with tears on my face and her spit on his dick.
I tried to hobble away.
Fast. As fast as I could.
“Ahh—!” I winced. My ankle throbbed, white-hot.
“Wait! Let me—!” he shouted, and then I felt him—his arms around me.
“No—it’s fine—”
But he ignored me, like always.
He lifted me in bridal style, strong and effortless, like I was something breakable. His arm curled around my waist, his face tight with concern. Not a word about her. Not a glance back.
She called out for him.
“Enzo—”
He didn’t even look at her.
Straight into his room.
My heart thudded wildly in my chest. I stared at his face the whole way. Watched the little twitch in his jaw, the flicker in his eyes. Tension. Silence.
He laid me gently on his bed.
Then turned and walked out.
“W-wait—”
Is he going back to her?
Is he mad that I interrupted them?
He didn’t say a word to me. Not even one.
My eyes stung. My chest ached.
I shouldn’t have come.
He has a fiancée now.
I’m so fucking stupid.
But then—
He returned. With a bowl of ice in his hands.
No Carol.
Just him.
I let out a shaky breath.
He didn’t go to her.
He came back to me.
Tears slipped down, silent and sharp, but I wiped them away before he noticed.
He sat at the edge of the bed. Gently took my leg into his lap.
“Is it hurting here?”
I nodded.
He started unstrapping my heels.
“Who told you to wear heels this high?”
I blinked, eyes darting from his hands to his face.
“Huh?”
“It was by accident,” I stammered.
“You wore them by accident?” His voice was dry. Flat.
“No—I meant the fall—”
He looked at me then. Right into me.
Expression unreadable. Cold. Almost… hollow.
“When did you come?”
He placed the ice gently on my ankle.
“You should’ve called.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be.”
That hit harder than it should have. Like a slap without sound.
I met his eyes. My voice cracked.
“I didn’t know you’d be this late. If I had, I would've been gone…”
Still, he said nothing.
Just stared.
“Tell Carol I said sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to ruin your night—”
My voice broke. Tears escaped.
I couldn’t finish the sentence.
The silence that followed was suffocating. The only sound was the raging beat of my heart.
“I—I…”
And then—his arms wrapped around me.
He pulled me into him.
He was hugging me?
“I didn’t mean to disturb you both—”
“Stop. RIGHT. THERE.”
His voice cracked like a whip. Final. Fierce.
Like he couldn’t take hearing another word.
His lips brushed my neck once—slow, deliberate—like he was testing himself more than me.I gasped softly, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Enzo…please”“That sound,” he murmured against my skin, “is exactly why this is feeling so good.”“I hope this also feels good,” I whispered, and getting my hips closer to his lower body. I don't know about him but I was feeling something. My body betrayed me, I was desperate now.He didn’t stop.His mouth traced a line along my throat, lingering just below my ear. His arms tightened around me, instinctive, protective, and before I realized it, my legs wrapped around his waist as he lifted me effortlessly.“You’re impossible,” he muttered.I was sliding up and down while his fingers dig into my ass cheek.I smiled against his temple. “You don’t sound like you hate it.”He carried me to the sofa, laying me back carefully—as if control still mattered, as if he was afraid of himself. He hovered over me for a second, breathing hard
I led her into the kitchen and gently guided her to one of the chairs by the island.She sat down stiffly, her shoulders folding inward the moment she did. Then—quietly—she began to cry.No sobs. No sounds.Just tears slipping down her face as she stared at the floor, her hands clenched tightly in her lap as if she were holding herself together by force alone.“Do you want anything?” I asked softly. “Water… tea?”She shook her head once. Then she looked up at me, eyes red-rimmed, searching.“You are…?” she asked, her voice hesitant, unfinished.I recognized it instantly.A diversion.She didn’t want to talk about what had just happened. About Lucas. About the pain clawing through her.So I answered.“Evelyn.I’m–” I stopped not knowing what to say.“Are you his-” I knew what she was implying.“My parents are no more,” I said quietly.Her eyes widened slightly.“After they died, Enzo’s step–older brother, Antonio, and his wife Lily became my guardians. Antonio was my father’s best fr
I couldn’t stay inside anymore.The garden air was cool against my skin, the scent of damp grass and night-blooming flowers doing nothing to slow the frantic rhythm in my chest. I paced along the stone path, fingers curling and uncurling at my sides, my heartbeat so loud it felt like it might echo.What if this is connected?The thought lodged itself deep, refusing to loosen.The email.The timing.The woman.Lucas’s reaction.None of it felt random.Enough.I turned sharply and headed back toward the house, my steps quickening as I crossed the lawn. With every step closer to Enzo’s study, a strange unease crept up my spine—an instinctive warning, quiet but insistent.Something was wrong.I was only a few feet from the door when I heard it.Raised voices.Not Enzo’s.A woman’s—sharp, trembling beneath fury.“You left me there, and you want me to trust you?” she cried. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Lucas— I th—”Her voice broke.The sound cut straight through me.I didn’t knock.I pu
Before I could even think about replying, before my thumb could hover over the screen again, voices drifted up from downstairs. They were muted at first, polite, and unfamiliar. I paused. My phone was still warm in my hand, the email pressing heavily against my thoughts. I quickly locked the screen, flipped it face-down onto the bed, and stood up. For a moment, I debated staying put, pretending I hadn’t heard anything. But curiosity and something sharper took over. I stepped into the hallway and slowly descended the stairs, my hand brushing the banister, my movements careful. The voices became clearer with each step. At the bottom, I saw her. She stood near the entrance, framed by the soft glow of the foyer lights. She was a beautiful woman in a pale pink dress, the fabric flowing lightly around her legs as if it barely touched her skin. Her hair fell in long, loose curls down her back, glossy and purposeful, as if she had taken her time getting ready. She looked composed. Too com
The house was unusually quiet.Enzo had retreated into his study after the garden, the heavy door closing with a soft finality that felt deliberate. I didn’t stop him. Lately, we orbited each other carefully, like two people afraid that one wrong step would reopen wounds still bleeding beneath the surface.I went to my room.The moment I closed the door behind me, the composure I’d worn all afternoon slipped. Not shattered—just loosened. I kicked off my shoes, sat on the edge of the bed, and leaned back against the headboard, staring at nothing.Out of habit more than intent, I picked up my phone.Scroll. Refresh. Scroll.News I didn’t care about. Messages I didn’t want to answer. Silence from the one person I wasn’t allowed to miss.My thumb paused.The screen lit up again.New EmailThe sender’s address meant nothing to me.But the subject line did.Rosemary Hospital.My pulse jumped, sharp and immediate.I hadn’t given that email to anyone. I’d been careful. Discreet. Anonymous whe
Two months later.The grass beneath me was cool, still holding onto the memory of morning dew, even though the sun had long climbed higher. I lay flat on my back, arms loose at my sides, staring up at a sky too blue for the way my chest felt.Somewhere above, leaves whispered against one another. The garden was alive—birds calling, insects humming softly—but I felt detached from it all, as though I were watching life through glass.Two months.That was how long it had been since everything cracked open.In those weeks, I had searched.Not casually. Not half-heartedly.I searched through old files locked away in rooms no one visited anymore. Through documents my parents never meant for me to read.Through hospital records, boarding school reports, unsigned letters, and fragments of conversations that had once floated past me as a child, unnoticed and unimportant.I searched for the truth about my parents’ death.And for Amelia’s disappearance.What I found was never enough. Pieces wit







