Chapter 27: Lines in the Sand

When Arianna returned home that evening, Luca was already there, pacing the living room like a lion in a too-small cage. The moment he saw her, his eyes searched her face.

“You went to Isabella’s office,” he said, not as a question but a statement.

Arianna dropped her bag on the couch. “I went to drop off the documents you asked me to. I didn’t know she’d—”

“She called me right after you left,” Luca interrupted, his jaw tight. “She said you came to… negotiate on my behalf.”

Arianna’s eyes widened. “Negotiate? She cornered me, Luca! She’s trying to make me leave you.”

Luca’s fists clenched at his sides. “I told you not to get involved with her. She plays dirty.”

“She’s already involved me,” Arianna shot back. “And she made it clear she’s not just after you she’s after control of everything around you. Including me.”

He closed the space between them, his voice low but shaking with anger. “Arianna, listen to me. She doesn’t care who she hurts. If she thinks you’re a weakness—”

“I’m not a weakness,” Arianna cut in, her chin lifting defiantly. “And I’m not going to let her scare me into disappearing.”

For a long moment, they stared at each other, the air between them electric. Then Luca reached up, brushing his thumb over her cheek, his touch softer than his words.

“Then we draw a line,” he murmured. “No more letting her dictate the rules. She wants a war? Fine. She’s got one.”

But as Arianna met his eyes, she couldn’t shake the feeling that in a war with Isabella, someone always paid a price and it wasn’t always the one who deserved it.

Amara's Discovery

The clinking of crystal glasses echoed through the marble-floored hallway of the LeClair Culinary Institute. The scent of roasting rosemary chicken wafted in from the training kitchen, but Amara’s attention was locked on something else entirely.

She’d come in early that morning to prepare the demonstration table for Luca’s upcoming workshop — chopping vegetables into perfect brunoise, arranging fresh herbs like miniature bouquets. She had her music in one ear and the rest of the world tuned out… until she heard the voices.

Sharp. Low. And much too familiar.

Amara froze, her hands pausing mid-chop. It was Isabella. That syrupy, cutting voice carried an edge like a chef’s knife.

“…he’s distracted by that woman,” Isabella was saying. “Arianna has him soft. If we want this deal to go through, she has to be… removed from the picture.”

Removed? Amara’s heart raced.

A second voice — male, deep, and business like  replied, “We can push her out quietly. Create an incident. Something to make Luca doubt her. He’ll do the rest himself.”

The hair on the back of Amara’s neck stood up. She didn’t recognize the man’s voice, but the intent was crystal clear.

Footsteps clicked closer. Amara ducked behind a tall rack of copper pots, pressing herself against the cool wall. Her breath came in shallow bursts. Isabella swept past, her designer heels striking the floor like a countdown clock. The man followed, tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a charcoal suit.

Once they disappeared around the corner, Amara dared to move. She gripped the counter for support, her mind racing. She’d never liked Isabella — too polished, too calculating but this? This was dangerous.

She grabbed her phone, hesitating. If she went straight to Luca, would he even believe her? And what if Isabella found out she’d overheard? People like Isabella had ways of making problems disappear.

But Arianna… Arianna had been nothing but kind to her. Supportive. Like the older sister she’d never had. And Luca? For all his billionaire charm, he was clearly head-over-heels for Arianna.

Amara squared her shoulders. No way was she letting someone blow up their lives without warning them.

She tucked her phone into her pocket, wiped her hands, and headed straight for Arianna’s office.

When she got there, Arianna was alone, reviewing the new dessert menu. She looked up and smiled. “Amara, hey. You’re here early.”

Amara shut the door behind her, locking it. “We need to talk. And you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

Arianna’s brow furrowed. “What is it?”

Amara took a deep breath. “It’s about Isabella. I just overheard something… something about getting rid of you. And I think she’s working with someone else to make it happen.”

Arianna went still, her pen dropping onto the desk.

“I’m serious,” Amara pressed. “I don’t know all the details yet, but if we don’t act fast, she’s going to pull something big.”

For a long moment, Arianna just stared at her, the weight of Amara’s words sinking in. Then Arianna reached for her phone.

“Thank you, Amara,” she said quietly. “But from this moment on… you and I are going

to be very careful about who we trust.”