Morning arrived softly-but inside the Romano mansion, it was anything but quiet.

Donato stirred in his sleep, his face half-buried in the pillow, the faint ringing of his alarm cutting through the comfort of the night. Out of habit, he shifted slightly, expecting Kiara's gentle hand to reach over, switch it off, and then shake him awake with that soft insistence he had grown used to. But today... the sound didn't stop. It kept ringing. Loud. Persistent. Irritating.

A low groan escaped him as he lazily stretched his arm toward her side of the bed-only to feel nothing. No warmth. No presence. Just cold sheets. His brows furrowed immediately. Still half-asleep, he ran his hand across the empty space again, as if she might suddenly reappear-but the coldness told him everything. She had been gone for a while.

That pulled him out of sleep completely. Donato sat up, running a hand through his hair as he turned the alarm off, his gaze instinctively scanning the room. The silence inside the bedroom felt... unusual. He glanced at the clock.

8:00 AM.

Normal waking time. But not like this. Not without her.

A faint frown settled on his face as memories from the previous night surfaced-Kiara laughing endlessly with her mother, Kavya, and Krish... her voice filling the house, her happiness almost overflowing. She had come to bed late-very late-and even then, she hadn't stopped talking. She had curled beside him, excitedly narrating every little moment, every joke, every detail, while he had simply watched her with quiet fondness, letting her words wash over him.

They had slept around four. And now she was already gone. A small, almost childish irritation crept into his thoughts. "I'm going to miss my wife," he muttered under his breath, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "She has her family now. I've been replaced."

Still, he got up, pushing the thought aside, and got ready quickly. Within fifteen minutes, he stepped out of the room-sharp, composed, dressed in his usual perfectly tailored suit. But the moment he entered the living area- He stopped. Completely. The sight in front of him was so unexpected that for a second, he simply stared.

Kiara. In a saree. She moved across the room with effortless grace, the soft fabric flowing around her like it belonged to her. The deep, rich color of the saree wrapped around her perfectly, highlighting every delicate movement. Her hair was loosely styled, a few strands escaping around her face, and the faint shimmer of bangles at her wrist caught the morning light as she hurried from the kitchen to the dining table and back again.

She looked... different. Not the modern, sharp Kiara he saw in the office. Not the teasing, playful wife from last night. This version of her felt softer. Warmer. Rooted. And breathtaking. Donato's gaze lingered longer than it should have, something unreadable passing through his eyes. Beautiful, he thought quietly. Too beautiful.

Then his attention shifted. Not just Kiara-every woman in the house was dressed in sarees. Aravi, Nonna,Lucia, Elana, even Sofia-moving between the kitchen and dining area, carrying dishes, laughing, talking, filling the space with an energy that felt alive.

And on the other side-The men. Seated comfortably, like an audience enjoying a show.

Elder Romano sat with his usual dignity, observing everything with calm satisfaction. Alberto leaned back casually, engaged in conversation. Krish sat dramatically sprawled, talking nonstop. Elio was beside him, equally energetic. And-

Enzo.

Awake. At this hour. Donato blinked once, genuinely surprised. "Did I miss something?" he murmured under his breath. "Is there a festival I don't know about... or did my family just decide to celebrate without informing me?"

He was still trying to process the scene when-

"Uncle Donato!"

A loud voice broke through his thoughts. Elio came running toward him at full speed. Donato's expression softened instantly. He crouched down slightly and caught the child mid-run, lifting him up effortlessly into his arms. A rare, genuine smile appeared on his face.

He pressed a quick kiss to Elio's cheek. Elio immediately scrunched his face in protest, wiping his cheek with his palm. "Don't eat me!" he complained. A low chuckle escaped Donato. "I will," he said casually-and deliberately leaned in again, playfully biting his cheek this time.

Elio let out a dramatic shout, squirming in his arms. "I said don't!" Donato only laughed softly, holding him securely before finally walking toward the seating area, still carrying him like it was the most natural thing in the world. But even as he joined them- His eyes drifted back.

To Kiara.

Moving. Laughing. Alive. And for a brief moment, something unfamiliar settled inside him again. Not tension. Not danger. Not control. Just-Peace. Donato was still watching her. Completely unaware of the world around him.

His gaze followed Kiara as she moved between the table and kitchen, her saree flowing softly with every step, her bangles chiming faintly like a rhythm only he seemed to notice. There was something different about her today-something that held him still without effort.

"Enjoying the view?"

The voice broke through his thoughts. Donato glanced sideways to find Enzo leaning casually beside him, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "What happened?" Enzo added quietly. "Lost somewhere... in your wife's saree or in her beauty?"

Donato didn't even hesitate. "Absolutely in her beauty," he replied, his voice calm, certain-almost proud. And then his eyes drifted back again. Kiara had just bent slightly forward, placing a dish carefully on the table-and for a brief second, time slowed.

The saree hugged her perfectly. The curve of her waist-slim, defined, elegant-caught his attention so sharply that he went completely still. His expression didn't change. But his mind did. Did she always look like this...slim? Why didn't I notice before?

Something about that simple movement, that unguarded moment, struck deeper than it should have. It wasn't just attraction-it was realization. Like he was seeing her again, in a new light... and liking it far too much.

"Shameless man," Enzo muttered under his breath, clearly noticing everything. "Ogling your own wife like that."

A slow smirk tugged at Donato's lips. "What can I do?" he replied lazily. "You wouldn't understand, baby. You don't have one."

Enzo let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Whatever," he muttered. "If you let me have mine, maybe I would too."

Donato's brows lifted slightly. "Hmm? Did you say something?"

Enzo straightened instantly. "No. Nothing."

Before Donato could question further-"Okay, gentlemen, breakfast is ready. Come on." Sofia's cheerful voice cut in as she approached them. Donato turned toward her, his gaze softening. "You look pretty in a saree, Sofi baby," he commented casually.

Sofia grinned instantly, twirling once with playful pride. "Thank you, brother. Kia made me wear it."

That earned a small smile from Donato before everyone moved toward the dining table. The table itself was a sight-rich, vibrant, filled with a mix of Rajasthani and Italian dishes. The aroma alone wrapped around the room, warm and inviting, carrying with it a sense of home that blended two worlds seamlessly.

As everyone settled, Donato finally voiced the question lingering in his mind.

"Did I miss something?" he asked, glancing around. "Are we celebrating anything?" his tone calm but edged with quiet curiosity as Kiara settled beside him, the soft rustle of her saree brushing against his sleeve.

Before she could answer, Aravi smiled from across the table. "Nothing like that," she said warmly. "It's just that Mrs. Rajput is here, and she brought sarees for all of us.see we wear it, So we thought... why not make the day memorable? A proper Rajasthani breakfast. Of course, we didn't abandon Italian completely-so it's a mix."

Donato's gaze moved slowly across the table-the vibrant spread of food, the laughter, the women in sarees, the warmth that filled the room like sunlight. Then his eyes returned to Kiara. "Oh," he said softly, a faint smile forming. "That's... amazing."

And it was. There was something grounding about the moment. Something real. The conversation resumed naturally, plates were passed around, and the table came alive with overlapping voices and quiet laughter. But for Donato, the noise faded into the background.

Because Kiara was right beside him. He leaned slightly closer, just enough for his breath to brush against her ear. "You look hot," he whispered.

The effect was immediate. Kiara choked. A sharp cough escaped her as she grabbed at her throat, completely caught off guard. Every head at the table turned toward her in concern.

"Careful, beta," Meera said instantly, leaning forward.

Donato, without missing a beat, reached for a glass of water and handed it to her, his expression perfectly composed. "Yes, Kiara," he added, voice smooth with feigned innocence. "Be careful. Are you not feeling okay? We can go rest in the room."

His tone was gentle. Too gentle. Kiara took the glass, her fingers brushing his for a brief second, and shot him a sharp glare over the rim as she drank. He knew exactly what he was doing. "No, no," she said quickly after swallowing, forcing composure back into her voice. "I'm fine. The food just got stuck."

Donato's lips curved into a subtle, unapologetic smile-one that only she noticed. On the other side of the table, a quieter scene unfolded. Enzo and Elana had ended up sitting beside each other-close enough for awareness, far enough for distance.

For a while, neither spoke. Then Enzo glanced at her. Once. Twice. And finally, softly, almost carefully, he said, "You look beautiful in a saree, Eli."

Elana stilled. It was barely noticeable-but her hand paused mid-air, her breath catching for the smallest fraction of a second. A faint flush crept up her cheeks, warming her skin despite her effort to stay composed.

She didn't look at him. Didn't allow herself to. "Thank you," she murmured quietly, her voice controlled, almost indifferent. And then she resumed eating. As if nothing had happened. But something had shifted-soft, fragile, unspoken-lingering between them like a truth neither was ready to face.

And around them, the table continued to buzz with life... unaware, or perhaps quietly aware, of the emotions threading silently beneath the surface.

Once breakfast ended, the lively energy of the dining table slowly dissolved into movement. Chairs scraped softly against the floor, dishes were gathered, and conversations continued in smaller clusters as everyone began drifting toward their routines. The men started preparing to leave for work, while the women lingered-laughing, talking, planning the rest of their day together.

Donato, however, wasn't paying attention to any of that. He was watching Kiara. Waiting. He leaned casually against the wall for a moment, his gaze following her as she moved around the kitchen, placing dishes on the counter, adjusting things with effortless ease. In his mind, it was simple-once she finished, she would go upstairs to change to go to office with him.

And he would follow. But she didn't.

Instead, she walked straight past that expectation and joined the others in the living room, settling comfortably beside Meera and Kavya, immediately getting pulled into conversation-completely, unapologetically forgetting that her husband was still very much present... and waiting.

Donato's jaw tightened slightly. One minute passed. Then another. Still nothing. A faint exhale left him as he pushed himself off the wall and walked toward them. He stopped just close enough, then cleared his throat-once. It worked. All eyes turned to him.

"Hmm... Kiara," he said, his tone controlled, though there was a subtle edge beneath it. "We're getting late. Are you coming... like this? In a saree?"

Kiara looked up at him, confusion flickering across her face for a second-then realization followed. "Oh..." she breathed. "Ro, actually... I forgot to tell you. I'm not going to the office today," she said, her voice soft but certain. "I want to stay with Mom, Aunt, and Krish."

Before Donato could respond, Aravi added cheerfully, "Yes, Donato, let her spend time with her family. In fact, I'm not going either. We ladies are going out-shopping, maybe lunch. A full day."

Donato paused, absorbing that. Then he nodded slowly. "Alright," he said. "Be careful. I'll leave Sam with you. He'll take you wherever you need to go." ( Sam is donato's personal and closest bodygurd ) His tone was calm. Measured.

But his eyes... were still on Kiara. "Kiara," he added, a little more quietly now, "will you come for a minute? I forgot a file I need today. I can't find it." It was a simple excuse. Too simple.

And Kiara knew it. Because she had arranged every single file he needed that morning. A faint smile tugged at her lips. She stood up without arguing. "Excuse me," she murmured, then followed him upstairs. The moment they entered the room-

The door hadn't even properly closed when Donato turned, pushed it shut behind her, and in one swift movement, caged her against it.

Kiara barely had time to react. His hand pressed firmly beside her head, his body close enough to erase any space between them, his presence overwhelming, immediate. And then- He kissed her. Not soft. Not hesitant.

It was sudden, deep, almost impatient-like he had been holding back far longer than he intended. His other hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer as if he had every right to, as if he needed to.

Kiara gasped softly against his lips, the surprise melting almost instantly into response. Her fingers instinctively gripped his shirt, grounding herself as the intensity of him surrounded her. The world outside-the voices, the movement, the house full of people-faded completely. There was only this. Only him.

Only the way his frustration, his want, his quiet possessiveness poured into that kiss without a single word spoken. When he finally pulled back, just slightly, his forehead almost touching hers, his breath still uneven, his eyes locked onto hers with something far deeper than teasing now-his voice low, almost unsteady in a way that didn't belong to a man like him.

"You forgot me," he murmured again, softer this time, like he was testing the weight of those words between them.

Kiara's breath was still uneven, her back pressed lightly against the door, her fingers curled into his shirt. For a moment, she didn't speak-just looked at him. Really looked at him. And what she saw there...Wasn't just teasing. Wasn't just desire. It was something deeper. Something raw.

Her lips curved slightly. "I didn't forget you," she whispered back. "I was just... happy."

Donato exhaled slowly, his gaze softening as his hand shifted from the wall to gently cup her face. His thumb brushed along her cheek, slow, deliberate, as if he was grounding himself in her presence.

"I know," he said quietly. "I saw."

His eyes searched hers, then drifted for a second-taking her in again, not hurried, not distracted this time. Just... absorbing. "You were glowing," he continued, almost to himself. "Laughing like you didn't have a single worry in the world." A faint smile touched his lips. "I should be used to it by now... but I'm not."

Kiara's lashes fluttered slightly at the intensity in his voice.

He leaned closer again, not to kiss her this time-but just enough that their breaths mingled. "This..." he murmured, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of her saree near her waist, careful, reverent. "This look on you... it's dangerous."

Her brows lifted faintly. "Dangerous?"

"For me," he replied without hesitation.

A quiet, breathy laugh escaped her-but it faded quickly when she saw he wasn't joking.

"You have no idea what you were doing out there," he added, his voice dipping lower, more intimate. "Walking around like that... smiling... bending over that table like you weren't aware of anything." He shook his head slightly, almost in disbelief. "You're making it very hard for me to behave like a decent man."

Kiara's cheeks warmed, her fingers tightening slightly on his shirt. "You're not supposed to be decent," she said softly, trying to deflect-but her voice lacked its usual confidence.

Donato's eyes darkened just a fraction. "No," he agreed quietly. "Not with you."

Silence settled between them for a moment-but it wasn't empty. It was full. Heavy with unspoken things. His hand slipped from her cheek to her waist again, holding her gently this time, not possessively-just... close. "I don't like it," he admitted suddenly.

Kiara frowned slightly. "What?"

"When you forget me." There was no accusation in his tone. Just truth.

She softened instantly, her hand moving up to rest over his. "I didn't mean to," she said gently. "They're my family, Ro... I haven't been with them like this in so long."

"I know," he repeated, his voice calmer now. "And I want you to have that. All of it."

His thumb brushed lightly against her waist again, absentminded, almost soothing. "But don't disappear from me completely," he added, his gaze locking onto hers again. "I don't like being replaced."

Kiara smiled at that-soft, genuine. "You're not replaceable you're the main center of my life," she whispered.

Something in his expression shifted again at those words. Slower this time. Deeper. His forehead rested lightly against hers, his eyes closing for just a second as if he needed that closeness. "Good," he murmured. "Because I'm already losing my mind over you as it is."

Her breath hitched faintly.

"You look..." he paused, searching for the right word-and then gave up with a quiet exhale. "No. There's no word for it." His eyes opened again, holding hers. "You don't just look beautiful," he said softly. "You feel like something I don't deserve... and still refuse to let go of."

The honesty in his voice stilled her completely. For a moment, neither moved. Then Kiara leaned in just slightly-closing the small distance herself this time-and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. Not rushed. Not demanding. Just... real.

He responded instantly, but gently this time-his hand tightening just enough at her waist to keep her close, his lips moving against hers in a slow, lingering rhythm that held more emotion than urgency. When they parted again, it wasn't abrupt.

It was gradual. Reluctant. Donato rested his forehead against hers once more, his voice barely above a whisper. "Stay with them today," he said. "Laugh like that again." A faint pause. "But come back to me too."

Kiara smiled, her fingers brushing lightly along his jaw. "I will always do, come back to you" she said softly. And somehow-That was enough for him.

____

The afternoon light filtered through the tall glass windows of Donato's office, casting long, sharp shadows across the polished floor. The room was quiet-too quiet for a man like him-except for the soft sound of pages turning as he reviewed a file with complete focus.

Then- The door opened without hesitation.

"Miss me, honey?"

The voice carried a familiar, dramatic tone-one Donato could recognize even with his last breath. Without even lifting his eyes from the file, he replied dryly, "In your dreams."

"Ouch. That hurts."

Enzo walked in anyway, clutching his chest in mock pain as he dropped himself onto the sofa like a man deeply wounded by betrayal. Donato let out a quiet chuckle at the act but didn't immediately look up.

"Hey," Enzo added after a moment, shifting slightly. "I'm here for a reason, you know. I'm also a CEO. A very busy man. And here you are... ignoring me."

That made Donato finally close the file. He stood up, composed as ever, and walked around his desk before settling onto the sofa across from Enzo, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. "I could never do that," he said with a faint smirk. "Ignore my darling. Now tell me-what good news do you have?"

Enzo's playful expression faded, replaced by something more serious.

"It's working," he said. "Our plan... it's working." That got Donato's full attention. "I just got a report from my men," Enzo continued, leaning forward slightly. "The ones I placed around Vittoria. A few days ago, her car's brakes failed." Donato's expression didn't change-but his gaze hardened.

"And it wasn't an accident," Enzo added quietly. "From what we gathered, it was planned." A brief silence settled between them. "And that's not all," Enzo went on. "Yesterday, one of her guards was killed."

Donato's jaw tightened subtly. "When I looked into it," Enzo said, "I found out Vittoria had hired him to keep an eye on you. Your movements. Who you meet. Where you go. So she could 'coincidentally' show up at the right time."

A faint, humorless smirk crossed Donato's lips. "Of course she did." "But the guard is dead now," Enzo said. "And there's more. She's been receiving anonymous notes. Threats. She even asked her secretary and men to trace the sender-but no success."

He paused, watching Donato carefully. "Doesn't it feel familiar?" he asked. "The same pattern your stalker uses. Threatening anyone who comes close to you. Warning them. Hurting them just enough to scare them away."

Donato leaned back slightly, his mind already connecting the pieces. "The last woman I remember..." he said slowly, his voice distant as he recalled. "She was a client. Tried to get close. Then one day, she mentioned a note... with flowers. Said it jokingly. Didn't take it seriously."

His gaze darkened. "But after that... she disappeared."

Enzo nodded. "Exactly. Your stalker doesn't need to kill them. Just scare them enough. A warning. A small accident. And they walk away on their own."

"But Vittoria..." Donato muttered.

"...isn't backing off," Enzo completed. "She's not scared. She's pushing forward. Trying to find out who's behind all this."

A faint silence followed. Then Donato spoke, calm but calculated. "Let her." Enzo looked at him. "It will make things easier for us," Donato added. "If she keeps digging, the stalker will react again."

Enzo leaned back, nodding slowly. "Exactly. I'll keep eyes on her. Through her... we'll reach your stalker you just continue to show that you're getting close to vittoria that will trigger for your stalker to do something reckless."

Donato didn't respond immediately. His gaze drifted away for a second. "Let's just hope..." he said quietly, "...they don't reach Kiara."

"They won't," Enzo replied instantly.

Donato's eyes snapped back to him. "Why are you so sure?"

Enzo exhaled slowly, his expression turning thoughtful. "Because from what I understand... your stalker is smart," he said. "They know Kiara isn't easy to reach. Sending her a note? Hurting her slightly? That won't work." He paused. "She's not someone who'll get scared and walk away from you."

Donato's voice was firm. "No. She won't."

"Exactly," Enzo said. "And your stalker knows that too. That's why they haven't touched her yet." A heavier silence filled the room. "Which means..." Enzo continued slowly, "...they're not planning something small." Donato's expression darkened.

"They'll remove every obstacle first," Enzo added. "And then... when it comes to Kiara they will do..." He didn't finish. He didn't need to. Because Donato already understood. His chest tightened, something cold settling deep inside him. "Something big," Enzo said quietly. "Something permanent."

Donato's voice came out lower than before. A pause. And then-"Death."

The word left his lips like a quiet horror. And for the first time in a long while-Donato Romano looked... afraid.

____

The Romano mansion, in the quiet stretch of the afternoon, carried a different kind of life. The echoes of the morning laughter had softened into a calm stillness, broken only by distant footsteps and the faint clinking of utensils from the kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, falling over marble floors and antique decor that seemed to tell stories older than the house itself.

Krish wandered through it all like a curious explorer.

His hands were tucked casually into his pockets as he moved from one corner to another, his eyes constantly shifting-up to the high, intricately designed ceilings, then to the grand paintings lining the walls, then to the rare sculptures placed with deliberate elegance.

"Okay... this is not a house," he muttered to himself. "This is a museum. Or maybe a palace. Or... both." He leaned closer to inspect a vintage clock, squinting slightly. "If this falls, I'm definitely getting disowned."

Still looking upward, distracted by a chandelier that looked far too expensive to even breathe near-He walked straight into someone.

Thud.

Both of them stumbled, completely unprepared for the collision, and landed on the floor on opposite sides.

"Ouch-" Krish groaned, immediately grabbing his head. "What was that?!"

Across from him, Sofia had also fallen-but unlike him, she wasn't reacting to the pain. She was staring. Completely still. Completely frozen. Wow... he looks even more handsome from close. Her thoughts blurred as she blinked slowly, trying to process the fact that the same boy she had noticed at the airport-her first, instant, completely unexpected crush-was now right in front of her.

Not far away. Not imagined. Right. Here. For a moment, she forgot everything else-including the fact that he was clearly in pain.

Krish, meanwhile, pushed himself up slightly, still rubbing his head. He looked at her-still lying there, staring at him like she had just seen something unreal. He frowned. "Hey-" he said, then added in Hinglish, completely unaware she wouldn't understand, "Suno bacchi, aise floor pe sona achi baat nahi hai. Aur tum dekh ke nahi chal sakti kya?" ("Listen, kid, it's not a good thing to sleep on the floor. And can't you watch where you're going?")

Sofia blinked. Once. Twice. Her brain tried to process the sentence-and failed completely. "...What did you say?" she asked in English, a polite smile forming on her lips.

Krish sighed dramatically, standing up fully now and dusting his clothes. ""Main apni baat repeat nahi karta," he said, then paused, tilting his head slightly. " "Lekin tum Italian ho, isliye ek exception de raha hoon." ("I don't repeat myself, "But since you're Italian, I'll make an exception.")

He pointed lightly toward her. Suno bacchi-dhyaan se chala karo. Aur aise floor pe kaun sota hai? Itne bade mansion mein tumhara apna room nahi hai kya?" ("Listen, kid-walk properly. And who sleeps on the floor like this? Don't you have your own room in this huge mansion?")

Sofia didn't understand a single word. Not one. But the tone... the expression... the way he was talking- He must be apologizing. Her smile widened instantly, soft and bright. totaly unaware that her first ever crush just called her kid."

"Oh no, it's okay," she said sweetly, shaking her head. "Accidents happen."

Krish blinked."...What?"

"I said it's okay," she repeated, nodding reassuringly.

He frowned deeper now, slightly confused. "Okay... but I wasn't apologizing."

Sofia tilted her head. "Then what were you saying?"

Krish crossed his arms, thinking for a second. "I was telling you that you should watch where you're going."

Sofia gasped softly, placing a hand over her chest in mock offense. "Excuse me? You walked into me."

"I was observing the architecture," he defended immediately. "This house is distracting."

"So it's the house's fault?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Exactly."

Sofia stared at him for a second... then laughed. A soft, genuine laugh.

Krish paused. And for a brief moment-he just looked at her. Then quickly looked away.

"So..." Sofia said, standing up and brushing her dress slightly, "you're the 'dramatic brother' I saw at the airport, right?"

Krish straightened instantly, pride returning. "huu me?

"I could tell," she said, smiling. "Your entry was... unforgettable."

He smirked. "I don't do normal entries."

"Clearly." A small silence followed-comfortable, curious. Then Sofia asked, "What were you actually saying earlier? It didn't sound like English."

"Hinglish," he replied casually.

"Hing... what?"

"Hinglish," he repeated. "Half Hindi, half English. Premium language."

Sofia laughed again. "It sounded like a secret code."

"It is," he said confidently. "Only intelligent people understand it."

"Oh really?" she challenged lightly.

"Yes."

"Then I guess I'm not intelligent," she shrugged dramatically.

Krish looked at her for a second... then smirked. "Or maybe you just need a good teacher."

Sofia's eyes lit up slightly at that. "Are you volunteering?" she asked.

Krish shrugged casually. "Maybe."

Another pause. Then Sofia extended her hand suddenly. "Hi. Proper introduction. I'm Sofia."

Krish looked at her hand-then shook it. "Krish. The Special guest."

"I remember," she smiled. "You announced it yourself."

"Good," he said. "At least someone appreciates my presence."

Sofia laughed again-and this time, he didn't look away. And somewhere, in the quiet corners of the grand mansion-A new, unexpected story had just begun.

Thank you babies 😊 🫀 🪄