Morning arrived quietly-but not peacefully.

At the Romano mansion, the first light of dawn slipped through the tall glass windows, painting the marble floors in soft gold. The house, usually alive with movement and voices, felt unusually still... as if it, too, was recovering from the storm of the previous night.

Inside their bedroom, the curtains were half-drawn, letting in just enough light to reveal the scene that had unfolded hours ago. Kiara was still asleep

She lay curled against Donato, her head resting on his chest, her arm loosely wrapped around his waist as if even in sleep she refused to let him go. Her face looked calmer now, though faint traces of dried tears still marked her cheeks.

Donato, however, was awake. He hadn't moved for a long time. One arm was wrapped securely around her, holding her close, while the other rested beneath his head. His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, but his thoughts were far from still.

Careful. Alert. Protective. His fingers moved slowly through her hair, absentmindedly, gently-like grounding himself through her presence. Last night had shaken him more than he wanted to admit.

Not because of the argument. Not even because she pushed him. But because of what it revealed. Her fear of losing him. Her possessiveness. Her vulnerability. And now... the realization that he had unknowingly placed her in a situation where doubt could grow.

That-he didn't like. Not one bit. His jaw tightened slightly as his thoughts shifted. To Vittoria. To the plan. To the stalker. Things were escalating faster than expected. The threats had already crossed a line-from intimidation to attempted harm.

A brake failure wasn't a warning. It was an attempt. And if the stalker had already reached that point with Vittoria Then Kiara-His hold around her tightened unconsciously. No. That thought didn't even get to finish. He would not let it. Never.

Kiara stirred slightly in his arms, her brows knitting faintly before relaxing again as if she sensed his presence and settled back into it. Her fingers curled slightly into his shirt, holding onto him even in sleep.

That small action softened something in him instantly. He lowered his gaze to her, watching her quietly. This... This was what mattered. Not the plan. Not the game. Not even the enemy. Her. And if anything-even slightly-threatened that He would burn it down without hesitation.

Slowly, he shifted, careful not to wake her, and adjusted her more comfortably against him. This time, he leaned back against the bed frame, pulling her with him so she rested properly in his arms.

A silent decision settled in his mind. The plan stays. But Kiara doesn't stay in the dark anymore. No more half-truths. No more misunderstandings. He had seen what silence could do. And he wouldn't risk it again.

Outside, the mansion slowly began to wake-soft footsteps in the hallway, distant voices, the quiet clinking of utensils from the kitchen. A new day had started.But for Donato-It wasn't just another day. It was the beginning of something far more dangerous. And this time-He was ready for it.

A faint shift, a small movement against him-and Donato immediately felt it. His arm, still wrapped securely around her, tightened instinctively, as if even in awareness he refused to let her slip away. Her lashes fluttered before her eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the quiet light of the room. For a moment, she simply looked at him... really looked at him, as if confirming he was there.

That he hadn't left again. Her fingers curled slightly into his shirt. "I'm sorry..." she whispered, her voice soft, fragile, still carrying the weight of last night.

Donato closed his eyes briefly, exhaling through his nose like he had expected this. "Kiara-"

"I didn't mean it, Ro," she rushed again, her brows knitting, guilt returning too quickly. "I don't know what happened, I just-"

He sighed, then gently cupped her face, forcing her to stop. "Kiara Romano" his tone shifted-low, warning, but playful beneath it, "if you say sorry one more time then I-"

"You what?" she asked immediately, her voice softer now, a faint challenge slipping through despite everything.

His lips curved. "Then I will eat you." Before she could react, he leaned down and lightly bit her cheek.

She gasped-then burst into laughter, the sound bright, unrestrained, breaking whatever heaviness still lingered between them. "Ro!" she laughed, trying to push him away, but he didn't let her.

In the next second, he was hovering over her, caging her in beneath him, his elbows planted on either side of her head as he dipped down again-this time pressing soft, quick kisses across her face. Her cheeks, her jaw, her forehead-followed by playful little bites that made her squirm.

"Stop-okay-okay!" she laughed breathlessly, trying to escape him, but he only grinned and continued, fingers moving to her sides, tickling her mercilessly.

"Say it again," he teased.

"I won't! I won't!" she gasped between laughter, her body twisting under him as she tried to breathe. "Ro-please-"

Only when he felt her laughter turning breathless did he finally stop. But he didn't move away. He stayed exactly where he was-hovering over her, close enough that her uneven breaths brushed against his face. Slowly, his expression softened. One hand moved up, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness that contrasted everything just moments before.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Good morning, Mrs. Romano," he murmured, nudging her nose lightly with his.

Her lips curved into a small smile. She lifted her head just enough to return the gesture, placing a gentle kiss against his forehead. "Good morning, Mr. Romano."

For a moment, they stayed like that-close, quiet, at peace. Then Donato exhaled softly and shifted slightly. "Come on," he said, his tone lighter now, deliberately so. "We have to get ready. Office today." He wanted to move forward. To not let her sink back into last night.

Kiara blinked, then turned her head slightly toward the clock- And froze. "Oh my God, Ro-it's nine!" she suddenly exclaimed, eyes widening as she pushed at his shoulder. "We're late! Get up-I have to get ready!"

Donato chuckled as he finally moved off her, sitting up lazily while watching her panic. "Relax, sweetheart," he said, stretching slightly. "Your husband is the CEO. It's allowed for the CEO and his wife to be late, no?"

"No," she shot back immediately, already getting up from the bed. "Work is work. There is no privilege for the CEO's wife. I don't want employees thinking I'm taking advantage of being your wife."

He paused. And just... looked at her. That small seriousness. that integrity. It made something in him soften again. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Okay," he said simply, standing up as well. ""Then let's get ready together. It'll save time-"

His words broke off mid-sentence. Kiara's gaze had fallen on his hand. For a second, she stilled completely, her expression shifting-confusion first, then concern. Without a word, she stepped closer, her fingers wrapping around his wrist before he could even react.

"Ro... what happened to your hand?" she asked, her voice tightening slightly as she turned it, noticing the bandage. "Why is this bandaged?"

Donato's smile turned sheepish, almost boyish. "It's nothing," he said lightly. Her eyes narrowed instantly. "Don't tell me you left last night and got into a fight with someone," she said, raising a brow, suspicion clear in her tone.

He shook his head quickly. "No, no, Kiara, I swear-I didn't fight." He lifted his hand slightly, as if presenting evidence. "It just happened at the gym."

She didn't look convinced. Her eyes searched his face carefully, trying to read between his words. "Are you telling the truth?" there was a pause-just a second-but enough. "Should I call Enzo?" he added casually. "He'll tell you."

That made her hesitate. "No need," she muttered, though her grip on his hand lingered for a moment longer before she slowly let go. "Why didn't I notice it last night..." she whispered more to herself than to him, her brows still slightly furrowed as she turned toward the bathroom.

But Donato heard he exhaled quietly. Thank God you didn't notice, he thought, a fleeting relief passing through him. Otherwise, I would've been sleeping outside.

"Hm?" she turned her head halfway back. "Did you say something?"

He blinked, then shook his head smoothly. "No. Nothing." Before she could question further, he stepped closer, his hand slipping around her waist, pulling her gently toward him with an easy familiarity. "Come on," he said, his tone soft but playful again. "Let's get ready. Otherwise, you won't even get to spend a little time with your family."

The word hit her instantly. Family. She froze mid-step. "Oh shit-Ro... my mom is here."

He raised a brow. "Yes... and?"

"She's going to be disappointed!" Kiara groaned, running a hand through her hair. "I woke up late-I'm sure everyone's already had breakfast. Mom, Dad, Albert bro, grandfather, uncle-they've probably all left for office and I'm still here sleeping-she's going to scold me."

Donato's lips curved slowly-dangerously amused. "She won't," he said calmly. "Because I'll tell her you worked very hard last night... that's why you were tired and slept late."

There was a brief pause. Kiara blinked. Then her eyes narrowed. Realization hit. "You-!" she grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him. "Pervert!"

He caught it easily, laughing under his breath before stepping closer again. Without giving her a chance to escape, he took her hand in his and gently pulled her toward the bathroom.

"Only for you, darling," he murmured, his voice low, teasing. And just like that- The tension of last night faded further into the background Replaced by warmth, laughter, and something steady enough to survive even their worst moments.

_____

Albert's office was wrapped in silence-but not the peaceful kind. It was the kind that pressed against the walls, heavy, restless, suffocating.

He sat behind his desk, fingers loosely clasped, yet completely still... while his mind refused to follow that same discipline. His gaze was fixed somewhere ahead, unfocused, distant-because he wasn't seeing the office in front of him.

He was seeing her. Kavya. Again. And again. And again. Her ghungroo echoing softly in memory. The rhythm of her steps. The effortless grace in every turn. The way her eyes lit up when she laughed. The way she spoke-confident, alive, unapologetically herself.

It made no sense. He barely knew her. Yet somehow she had slipped into his thoughts like she belonged there. And that- That irritated him. Albert exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"What is going on with me..." he muttered under his breath. His jaw tightened slightly. "Is Donato right?" he whispered to himself, almost unwilling to say it out loud. "Am I falling for her?"

The words felt foreign. Unacceptable. He had built walls for a reason. Discipline. Control. Distance. Feelings like this didn't just appear out of nowhere. And yet- He hadn't even seen her that morning.

He had looked. Without realizing it. A quick glance at the breakfast table. A subtle pause in the hallway. A flicker of expectation he hadn't acknowledged. But she wasn't there. And the absence It lingered. It irritated him more than it should have.

He had grown used to her presence without even noticing it. Her voice filling the space. Her laughter blending with the others. Her energy... softening something in him he didn't even know needed softening.

And now that it wasn't there He felt it. That realization alone made his jaw clench harder. Even Gia-who had been relentlessly trying to contact him, appearing out of nowhere, calling from unknown numbers-had faded into the background of his mind.

For the first time... She wasn't the problem. Someone else was. And that someone didn't even know it. Albert's thoughts spiraled deeper-until suddenly The office door burst open. The sharp sound shattered the silence like glass.

Albert flinched slightly, snapping out of his thoughts, his eyes immediately hardening as they shot toward the intruder.

Gia.

Standing there like she belonged. Behind her, his secretary rushed in, breath slightly uneven, clearly distressed. "Ma'am, please stop-!" she tried again, but it was already too late.

Albert's expression darkened instantly. "What the hell, Gia?" his voice cut through the room, sharp, controlled-but carrying a dangerous edge. "What are you doing in my office?"

Gia didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't apologize. She stood there, unwavering, her gaze locked onto him as if nothing else in the room existed. As if his anger meant nothing. Behind her, the secretary finally stepped in fully, visibly shaken.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir," she said quickly, her voice trembling slightly. "I tried to stop her, but she didn't listen. She pushed past me and came in-"

Albert didn't even look at her. His eyes remained fixed on Gia. Cold. Unreadable. Dangerous.

"It's okay." you can leave now."

Albert's voice was controlled, steady-yet firm enough to immediately calm the trembling panic of his secretary. He didn't even spare her a glance as he dismissed her with a slight gesture of his hand. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, clearly shaken, then nodded quickly and hurried out, closing the door behind her.

The moment it shut- The air in the room shifted. Silence returned, but this time it wasn't restless. It was sharp. Tense. Albert slowly rose from his chair, the faint scrape of it against the floor echoing louder than it should have in the stillness. His posture straightened, shoulders rigid, every inch of him radiating control-but his eyes... his eyes were cold.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low, clipped. "What do you want?"

Gia stepped closer, as if his tone hadn't affected her at all. There was a strange softness on her face-carefully crafted, almost practiced. "Albert... why did you change your number?" she asked, her voice gentle, almost wounded. "I couldn't contact you."

His jaw tightened. "Exactly," he replied sharply. "You weren't supposed to." His eyes hardened further. "That's why I changed it. Because I don't want any contact with you. Is that so hard to understand?"

The words landed, blunt and merciless. But Gia didn't step back. Instead, her expression crumbled-too quickly. Tears welled in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks as she moved another step forward, her voice breaking just enough to sound convincing.

"Albert... I'm sorry, baby... please, just listen to me," she pleaded, her hands slightly raised as if reaching for him but not daring to touch. "I know I was wrong. I'm ashamed of it. I-I really love you. Just give me one chance..."

Albert let out a dry, humorless scoff. "Love?" he repeated, the word dripping with disbelief. His gaze raked over her with open disgust. "You're disgusting." The cruelty in his tone was deliberate. Measured. "I don't have any place for you in my life," he continued coldly. "Leave. From this office. From my life."

But she shook her head immediately. "No-I won't," she insisted, stubborn, desperate. "Not until you give me a chance. I know you don't have anyone else in your life. You haven't moved on since our breakup. You still love me... you're just angry."

That-That made something in him snap. Albert let out a quiet, incredulous chuckle, shaking his head slightly as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Love you?" he repeated, his voice dangerously calm now. "I don't even want to think about you. And you're talking about love?"

But she held her ground. Then why?" she challenged, her voice rising slightly. "Why aren't you in another relationship? Why are you still single?"

The question lingered. For a brief second, Albert said nothing. His gaze shifted away from her... just for a moment. And in that moment- A face flashed in his mind. Kavya. Her laughter. Her eyes. Her dance. Something unfamiliar tightened in his chest.

Then, just as quickly, his expression hardened again. He turned back to Gia, decision already made."I'm not," he said flatly. She blinked. "I'm not single," he continued, his voice firm, unwavering. "I have someone. I'm in a relationship."

The words came out smoother than he expected. Stronger. "I have a girlfriend," he added, stepping slightly closer, his eyes locking onto hers with finality. "Someone I love. Someone I'm going to marry." It was a lie. A complete, calculated lie. But it did exactly what he needed it to.

Gia froze. "No..." she whispered, shaking her head slowly. "No, you're lying."

"I'm not," he replied without hesitation. Silence stretched between them. Heavy. Uncomfortable. Final. "Now leave," Albert said, his tone dropping back into cold authority. "Quietly. Or I'll have security drag you out."

For the first time since she entered-She broke. Her confidence faltered. Her expression shifted, uncertainty creeping in beneath the cracks of her act. She stared at him for a long second, searching his face for something-anything.

But there was nothing. No softness. No hesitation. No past. Just a closed door. Without another word, she turned. And walked out. The door clicked shut behind her.

Albert stood there for a moment, unmoving. Then he exhaled deeply, the tension finally leaving his shoulders as he dragged a hand down his face. He walked back to his chair and dropped into it, leaning back heavily, staring at the ceiling.

"I have a girlfriend..." he muttered under his breath, almost in disbelief. Another image flickered in his mind. Kavya. His jaw tightened. "Damn it..." he whispered, closing his eyes briefly. Because the lie-Didn't feel entirely like one anymore. its a lie that he wants to make it true."

______

Kiara sat on the edge of her bed, her hands tightly clasped together in her lap, fingers nervously fidgeting against each other as if they were trying to hold something inside-something she was afraid might spill out if she loosened her grip even a little. The room was quiet, but not peaceful. It carried a heaviness, the kind that lingered after tears had already fallen and words had already been swallowed.

Across from her, Meera watched. A mother's eyes don't need explanations. They see what is hidden. At first, Kiara had smiled-too quickly, too lightly-brushing it off with a soft "I'm fine, Mom... everything's okay." And Meera had nodded, accepting it on the surface... but not believing it for a second.

Because this was her daughter. And she knew that silence.

So when they were finally alone, when the noise of the house faded and the door closed behind them, Meera didn't hesitate this time. She stepped closer, her voice softer-but firm with concern.

"What's wrong?" she asked gently. "Don't hide it from me, Kiara. I know you better than you know yourself." The words broke something.

Kiara exhaled slowly, her shoulders dropping as if the strength she had been holding onto finally gave up. She lowered herself fully onto the bed, her gaze fixed on her hands, unable to meet her mother's eyes.

Meera didn't rush her. She simply waited. And after a moment- Kiara spoke. "Mom..." her voice came out quiet, fragile. "It's happening again."

Meera's expression changed instantly. A flicker of fear. Confusion. "What is?" she asked, though something deep inside her already knew.

Kiara swallowed, her fingers tightening further. "My temper... my anger..." she continued, her voice trembling now. "It happened yesterday. I lost control again. I... I did something I didn't want to do."

Her head dropped lower, shame creeping into every word. Meera's brows furrowed, concern deepening into worry. "But how, Kiara?" she asked softly, stepping closer. "It's been almost two years. The last time you lost control... after your therapy, everything became normal. You didn't have those anger episodes anymore." Her voice wavered slightly now. "Then why suddenly...?"

Kiara shook her head slowly, as if she didn't have the answer herself. "I don't know, Mom," she whispered. "I was shocked too. It hasn't happened for so long... but yesterday-something triggered me. And I just... I couldn't stop."

Her breathing grew uneven. "I hurt Ro, Mom..." The words broke apart as sobs followed them. "I pushed him..." she admitted, her voice cracking completely now. "I didn't mean to-but I did..." Tears spilled freely, guilt and fear pouring out of her all at once.

And before she could fall apart any further Meera pulled her into her arms. Tight. Protective. Instinctive. Kiara buried her face into her mother's shoulder, crying like she hadn't in years, her body trembling as if she was trying to release everything she had held back.

But Meera, Meera wasn't just comforting her. She was terrified. Her arms held Kiara close, but her mind had already gone somewhere else. Three years back. To the time when this had first started.

When Kiara's anger wasn't just anger-it was uncontrollable, consuming, something that frightened even her own family. The sleepless nights. The breakdowns. The therapy sessions. The slow, painful journey to bring her back to balance.

They had thought it was over. They had believed she had healed. But now-That same shadow had returned. And this time, it wasn't just about Kiara. It was about her marriage. Her life. Her future. Meera closed her eyes tightly for a moment, her hand gently stroking Kiara's hair as she tried to steady her own rising fear.

No... she thought silently. This cannot come back. Because if it did- It wouldn't just hurt Kiara again. It might take everything from her.

Meera pulled back just enough to look at Kiara's face, her hands still gently holding her shoulders, as if afraid that if she let go completely, her daughter might slip back into that place again. Her eyes scanned Kiara carefully-not just seeing her, but reading her, searching for signs she had once memorized out of fear.

"Did the migraines start again?" she asked softly, her voice carrying a quiet concern that went deeper than the question itself.

Kiara hesitated for a second, then shook her head slightly. "Not constantly," she said, her voice calmer now but still fragile. "Only sometimes... when things get hectic, or when I get too tired. I feel it then. But it's not frequent, Mom. It's controllable."

Meera exhaled slowly, but it wasn't relief-it was restraint. She moved her hand to Kiara's cheek, brushing away the faint trace of tears that still lingered there.

"Kiara, listen to me," she said gently, her tone firm yet full of warmth. "You overcame all of this two years ago. You fought it... bravely. You didn't let it break you." Her eyes softened with pride, but worry still lingered beneath. "But now things are different. You're married. You have a life, a relationship that needs balance."

Kiara lowered her gaze again, listening quietly.

"Husband and wife... they argue, they disagree," Meera continued, her voice steady, guiding. "That's normal. But losing control-losing yourself like that-it's not right, baby. Not for you... and not for your marriage. You can't let your anger take over like that again. You have to control it."

Kiara nodded slowly, her fingers curling into the fabric of her dress as if grounding herself. "I will, Mom," she said, determination slipping into her voice. "I won't let that old Kiara come back. I won't."

Meera studied her face for a moment, then gave a small nod, wanting to believe her-but still cautious. "And if it becomes difficult to control" she added carefully, "you should tell Donato."

The reaction was instant. "No, Mom-no," Kiara said quickly, shaking her head, almost panicked. "Please don't tell anyone. I'll handle it myself. Don't worry." There was urgency in her voice now, a quiet fear-not of the condition, but of being seen differently because of it.

Meera paused, watching her closely, then nodded slowly. She understood that fear even if she didn't fully agree with it. "Then should I talk to your father?" she suggested gently. "We can go back to India for some time. You can restart your medication... and therapy if needed. You know, if this is coming back, we should treat it before it grows stronger again."

But Kiara shook her head again, more firmly this time.

"No, Mom," she insisted. "It's not like that. I was scared too, I thought the same... but it just happened once. That's all. I was... jealous. That's why I reacted like that." She took a small breath, trying to steady herself. "I'm sure it won't happen again. And if it does I'll tell Donato. I promise."

Meera's expression softened slightly at that.

"That's good," she said, her thumb brushing gently against Kiara's hand. "Just promise me one thing-you won't ignore yourself. This isn't something to be ashamed of, Kiara. It's not a flaw. It's an illness. And illnesses are treated, not hidden."

Kiara looked at her, her eyes calmer now, more grounded. "You've healed once," Meera continued softly. "You can do it again. But don't hesitate if you need help. And don't hide it from Donato. He will stand with you."

Kiara nodded, more sincerely this time. "Yes, Mom... I will." And for a moment, the storm inside her quieted-not gone, not forgotten-but held, gently, between a mother's understanding and a daughter's promise.

____

The days that followed settled into a quiet, almost deceptive calm-like a storm that had passed but still lingered somewhere far on the horizon. Life at the mansion resumed its rhythm, smooth and composed, as if nothing had ever fractured beneath the surface.

Kiara slowly returned to herself, her laughter finding its way back into the halls, her presence once again light and warm. Donato watched this carefully, almost protectively, doing everything in his power to keep her anchored in that peace.

He never brought up that night again-not the argument, not the tears, not the way things had almost slipped out of control. And unexpectedly, Kiara didn't either. It was as if both of them had silently agreed to leave it buried, choosing comfort over confrontation, healing over reopening wounds.

Yet, beneath that calm, Donato's world hadn't entirely stilled. The sudden disappearance of Vittoria didn't sit right with him.

One day she was there-persistent, present, entangled in a plan that was meant to expose something far more dangerous-and the next, she was gone. Completely. Replaced by her brother, who stepped into her position at the company without explanation or delay. For Donato, it wasn't just unexpected-it was suspicious.

His instincts didn't allow him to accept things at face value.

For a moment, he had even considered the possibility that the stalker had made a move-something drastic enough to force her out of sight. But that thought was interrupted when Mr. Moretti himself came to meet him. Calm, composed, and convincing, he explained that Vittoria had been called to Japan by her grandparents, needed there to manage their branch and stay with them for personal reasons.

Donato had smiled. Polite. Controlled. Accepting. But he hadn't believed it. Not entirely.

Something about it felt too sudden, too convenient. Still, he let it go-for now. Because regardless of the truth, her absence solved one immediate problem. Kiara's growing insecurity, the tension, the unspoken misunderstandings-all of it dissolved with Vittoria gone. And as for the stalker... Donato wasn't a man who depended on a single plan. If one path closed, he would carve another. Whoever was behind it wouldn't stay hidden forever.

Meanwhile, in another corner of the same world, a different kind of storm was quietly building. Albert had finally stopped denying it. What he had been feeling for days-what he had tried to brush off as distraction, curiosity, or mere admiration-had taken a clearer shape now. He had accepted it.

He had fallen for Kavya. The realization didn't come with excitement. It came with restlessness. Because this wasn't simple. It wasn't planned. And worst of all-it was late. In just one week, she would leave. Go back to India. And the thought of that... unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

He found himself distracted in meetings, absent in conversations, his mind drifting back to her-her laughter echoing in the corridors, her presence at the breakfast table, the way she filled spaces without even trying. He hadn't realized when it had begun, or how deeply it had rooted itself within him... but now that he knew, there was no ignoring it.

The problem wasn't what he felt. The problem was- What to do with it. Time wasn't on his side. And Albert Romano wasn't a man used to hesitation, yet here he was-pausing, thinking, overanalyzing something as simple and as complicated as a confession.

Because this wasn't just about saying the words. It was about risking everything that came after. And as the days quietly moved forward, one thing became certain-If he didn't speak now... he might lose her before she ever knew. unaware that his family already plan everything."

______

Enzo sat back in his chair, one leg crossed lazily over the other, the dim light of his office casting sharp shadows across his face. The room was quiet-too quiet-the kind of silence that usually meant his mind was working, calculating, waiting for something to fall into place. And then, it did.

His phone buzzed.

He didn't rush to pick it up. He never did. Calm, controlled, he lifted it to his ear, his expression unreadable as he listened. But the moment the words reached him-

"Sir, we caught the man who tampered with Ms. Moretti's car brakes..."

Something shifted. A slow, dangerous light flickered in his eyes. "Excellent," Enzo said, his voice low but laced with satisfaction, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "Where is he?"

"In our custody, sir. I'm sure he knows everything about the stalker... who they are."

Enzo leaned forward slightly now, resting his elbows on the desk, interest sharpening into focus. This wasn't just progress-this was the thread that could unravel everything. "Good," he replied, his tone turning colder, more precise. "Keep him alive. I'll handle the rest. I'll meet him soon."

He ended the call without another word. For a moment, he just sat there, staring at nothing in particular... and then a quiet chuckle escaped him. "Finally..." he murmured under his breath.

While Donato had stepped back, letting Vittoria's sudden disappearance settle things on the surface, Enzo had done the opposite. He had continued digging-silently, patiently-pulling at every loose end. And one of those ends had finally led him here.

To the man who tried to kill. Or at least... send a message. Enzo rose from his chair slowly, adjusting his sleeves as if preparing for something routine-but the glint in his eyes said otherwise. This wasn't routine. This was personal.

He walked toward the window, looking out at the city stretched beneath him, lights flickering like scattered secrets waiting to be uncovered. "Let's see..." he muttered softly, almost thoughtfully. "Mr. or Ms. Stalker... who exactly are you?"

A smirk deepened on his lips, sharper now, more dangerous. Because this wasn't just about finding the truth anymore. This was about ending the game. And as he slipped his phone back into his pocket, one final thought crossed his mind-dark, almost amused.

"It'll make a perfect birthday gift," he said quietly. For his brother. For Donato. And whoever was hiding behind the shadows-Their time was almost over.

👋👋👋😊