All Chapters of A Wife For Nico Vescari: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

~CAKE~The studio for Maison Virelli smells like expensive alcohol and ambition.Everything is white — the walls, the floors, even the backdrop.I did my homework—The brand is one of Milan’s pride pieces — bold, sensual campaigns, faces that look like they were carved instead of born. Now I am standing in the center of it all in a silk slip and borrowed poise.“Redresse les épaules,” the photographer snaps. {Straighten your shoulders.}I adjust.He circles me like he’s assessing sculpture. “Plus doux. Pas comme ça.” { Softer. Not like that.}I try again.He lowers the camera slightly. “Mon Dieu,” {My God} he mutters under his breath.The makeup artist steps in, dabbing at my cheek with a sponge. She smiles politely. “Relax your jaw a little. You’re clenching.”I hadn’t noticed.The photographer exhales dramatically. “Regarde-moi comme si tu possédais la pièce.” {Look at me like you own the room.}Own the room? I don’t even feel like I own myself.I hold the Maison Virelli bottle high

~CAKE~By the time Elianna arrived, the sun had gone down and the wine was cold.The compound felt different from back home. Here felt polished, not too many eyes on you. The pool lights were already on. The water glowed an artificial blue that made everything look expensive.Sienna was in the middle of the pool, recounting what had happened on set earlier like she had just survived a battlefield.“I swear to God,” she said, pushing wet hair off her face, “if that stylist ever touches your waist again and says, ‘Let’s define your silhouette,’ I will define her obituary.”Elianna laughed softly, floating on her back like she didn’t belong to gravity.“You threatened her, didn’t you?” I asked.“I educated her,” Sienna corrected.“That’s worse.”We were drinking something cold and pink that tasted harmless and wasn’t. Leo had the staff deliver it without speaking, like ghosts with manners.Sienna’s phone buzzed from the edge of the pool. She glanced at it, and her entire expression shif

~CAKE~The shoot ended better than it started.By the second set, I stopped letting people adjust me like a mannequin. The first hour had been constant repositioning—chin up, shoulder back, tilt more, soften, relax. I was not stiff. I was irritated. There’s a difference. Eventually I told the stylist to stop touching me and just tell me what she wanted. After that, everything clicked. I moved how I wanted, held the poses longer, shifted my weight naturally instead of waiting for instruction. The photographer stopped over-directing and started shooting.Elianna watched most of it from behind the monitors, arms folded, expression sharp and observant. Sienna cried halfway through because she said I looked “iconic,” which was dramatic even for her. Elianna told her to fix her mascara and stop embarrassing us. By the time we wrapped, even the production team seemed more confident around me.“It’s a success,” Elianna said as we walked out.Not good. Not decent. A success.I believed her.Sh

~CAKE~I didn’t bother easing the door shut, I slammed it hard enough the walls probably felt it.Elianna looked up from the bed where she was sprawled comfortably. “Okay. Who died?”“I was literally unpacking,” I said, dragging my suitcase zipper harder than necessary just remembering it. “I hadn’t even taken my boots off. Then Enzo calls me.”“What did he want?”“Nico had sent for me.” I threw my hands up. “Sent for me. Like I'm a staff. Like he couldn’t wait to see me.”“So you went.”“Of course I went. I’m not stupid.”I folded a blouse and immediately unfolded it because I was too annoyed to do it properly.“I thought it was just him,” I continued. “I thought maybe he wanted to talk about… I don’t know. Check on me being back, or whatever.”Elianna’s mouth curved slightly.“I open the door,” I said, “and there she is.”“Who?” she asked.“Bianca Moretti,” I said, deepening my voice in a mockingly refined tone. “The one who was meant to marry Nico.”Elianna snorted.“She was alread

~CAKE~By noon, I was convinced my lungs were trying to leave my body.I sneezed for what felt like the hundredth time, barely managing to grab a tissue before it became a disaster. My head throbbed behind my eyes, my nose was blocked and running at the same time, and every time I coughed, it felt like my ribs were protesting.Sienna stood at the foot of my bed with her arms crossed.“Normal people swim during the day,” she said.Elianna, sitting beside me, added, “Normal people also change out of wet clothes before sleeping.”I blew my nose and glared at both of them. “Normal people are boring.”They stared at me.“I regret nothing,” I added weakly, before sneezing again.Sienna shook her head. “You were shivering in your sleep.”“I was dreaming,” I said. “Very athletic dreams.”Elianna gave me a look that said she knew exactly what kind of “athletic” I meant, but she spared me.“You’re ridiculous,” she said softly, brushing hair off my forehead.“I’m fine,” I insisted. “It’s just a