CHAPTER SEVEN

Dinner With the Devil:

Amara had expected Alessia's house to feel cold.

It didn't.

That was the first thing that surprised her.

The entrance was enormous, with marble floors and high ceilings, but the lighting was warm. There were bookshelves along one wall, paintings that looked centuries old, and fresh flowers arranged on almost every table.

It didn't feel like a house owned by a woman everyone called ruthless.

It felt like a home.

Almost.

“You're staring.”

Amara looked at Alessia.

“I didn't say anything.”

“You didn't have to.”

“Do you always know what people are thinking?”

“No.”

Alessia continued walking.

“Only when they're obvious.”

Amara followed.

“I'm not obvious.”

“You are to me.”

She stopped.

Amara nearly walked into her.

Alessia turned.

For a second, they were standing far too close.

Neither moved.

Then Alessia stepped aside.

“Dinner is this way.”

Amara cleared her throat.

“Right.”

---

The dining room was smaller than Amara expected.

A long table could have seated twenty people, but only two places had been prepared.

Amara looked at the table.

“Just us?”

“Yes.”

“Where's everyone else?”

“There's no one else.”

“Your family?”

“Matteo doesn't live here.”

“Do you have other family?”

Alessia pulled out a chair for her.

“Not anyone who comes to dinner.”

Amara sat.

Alessia took the seat opposite her.

A server placed their meals on the table and left.

Amara stared at the food.

“This looks expensive.”

“It is.”

She laughed.

“You're not even going to pretend?”

“Why would I?”

“I don't know. Rich people usually pretend they're normal.”

Alessia raised an eyebrow.

“Do I look normal?”

“No.”

“Exactly.”

Amara smiled.

For several minutes, they ate in silence.

It wasn't uncomfortable.

That surprised Amara too.

Alessia seemed different outside the office.

Less guarded.

Less intimidating.

Almost peaceful.

Almost.

“Why don't you ever smile?”

Alessia looked up.

“I do.”

“Rarely.”

“You've known me for less than a week.”

“And I've already noticed.”

Alessia took a sip of water.

“Maybe you're paying too much attention to me.”

Amara looked down at her plate.

“Maybe.”

The corner of Alessia's mouth lifted.

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“You're annoying.”

“So I've heard.”

Amara shook her head.

Then she noticed the cut on Alessia's hand again.

“You still haven't treated that.”

Alessia glanced at it.

“I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

“Yes.”

“Give me your hand.”

Alessia looked at her.

“Why?”

“Because I'm going to clean it.”

“You don't have to.”

“I know.”

Amara stood.

“Where's your first-aid kit?”

“Kitchen.”

She walked away.

Alessia watched her disappear.

For a woman who had spent years making sure nobody got close enough to hurt her, she was beginning to wonder whether she'd made the biggest mistake of her life.

Amara returned with a small medical kit.

She sat beside Alessia.

“Hand.”

Alessia obeyed.

Amara gently cleaned the cut.

“You're very bossy.”

“I'm learning from you.”

Alessia smiled.

“You're enjoying this.”

“A little.”

Their eyes met.

Amara's fingers paused around Alessia's hand.

Neither spoke.

Then Amara quickly finished wrapping the bandage.

“There.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

She started to pull away.

Alessia's fingers closed gently around hers.

Amara froze.

Alessia looked at their hands.

Then released her.

“Sorry.”

Amara swallowed.

“It's okay.”

But neither sounded convinced.

---

Later that night, Amara stood on the balcony.

The city stretched beneath her, thousands of lights blinking against the darkness.

She heard footsteps behind her.

“Can't sleep?”

She turned.

Alessia.

“No.”

“Neither can I.”

Amara smiled.

“I didn't think billionaires had insomnia.”

“We do.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes money doesn't buy peace.”

Amara looked back at the city.

“That's probably the first normal thing you've ever said.”

Alessia leaned against the railing.

“Tell me about your father.”

Amara's smile disappeared.

“Why?”

“Because I knew him.”

“You've said that.”

“I want you to tell me what you remember.”

Amara hesitated.

“He was kind.”

Alessia looked at her.

“He wasn't perfect.”

“No.”

“He worked too much.”

“Yes.”

“He used to bring me flowers when he came home.”

Alessia's expression softened.

“He loved roses.”

Amara looked at her.

“You remember that?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Alessia was silent.

Then she said,

“Your father gave me roses once.”

Amara's eyes widened.

“Why?”

“He was apologizing.”

“For what?”

Alessia looked away.

“Something he had done.”

“What?”

“I can't tell you.”

Amara sighed.

“Of course.”

She turned to leave.

“Amara.”

She stopped.

Alessia looked at her.

“Your father didn't deserve what happened to him.”

Amara's throat tightened.

“You said he made choices.”

“He did.”

“Then what happened?”

Alessia's voice became quiet.

“Someone betrayed him.”

“Who?”

Alessia didn't answer.

Amara stepped closer.

“Was it you?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

Alessia looked into her eyes.

“I don't know.”

Amara stared at her.

“You're lying again.”

“I'm not.”

“Then why do you look guilty?”

Alessia's expression changed.

“Because I should have protected him.”

Amara's heart broke a little.

“You cared about him.”

“Yes.”

“More than you're telling me.”

Alessia said nothing.

Amara walked past her.

Then stopped.

“Goodnight, Alessia.”

“Goodnight.”

Amara disappeared inside.

Alessia remained on the balcony.

She closed her eyes.

A voice from the past echoed in her mind.

You promised you'd protect him.

Alessia opened her eyes.

She looked toward the bedroom where Amara had disappeared.

“I failed him.”

Her phone vibrated.

A message.

UNKNOWN:

She trusts you now.

Alessia's expression hardened.

Another message appeared.

Let's see how long that lasts.

A photograph followed.

Alessia opened it.

Her blood ran cold.

It was Amara.

Taken earlier that evening.

On the balcony.

With Alessia standing beside her.

Someone had been watching them.

The message beneath the photograph was short.

“You can't protect her forever.”

Alessia stared at the screen.

Then she typed one response.

“Watch me.”

She deleted the message before sending it.

Instead, she called Matteo.

He answered immediately.

“What happened?”

“Wake everyone up.”

“Why?”

“Someone has been inside the estate's security perimeter.”

Silence.

“Are you sure?”

Alessia looked at the photograph again.

“Yes.”

“And Amara?”

Alessia's eyes moved toward the hallway.

“She stays with me.”

Matteo hesitated.

“Alessia…”

“I said she stays with me.”

She ended the call.

Then she walked toward Amara's room.

For the first time, Alessia wasn't afraid of what the enemy might do to her.

She was afraid of what they might do to the woman she was beginning to love.

And that frightened her more than anything.