Silence reigned in the living room.
Val was still sitting on the couch, her fingers lost in Chloé's hair while Chloé stared blankly into space. Neither of them spoke, as if the slightest word could make everything explode.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang, shattering the heavy silence.
Val (surprised, frowning)
— Who could that be at this hour? Maybe your in-laws?
Chloé (weakly, barely reacting)
— No… I'm expecting Marco. Please, go open the door.
Val stared at her for a moment, surprised, but said nothing. She stood up with a sigh and slowly walked toward the door.
When she opened it, she found herself face-to-face with Marco.
He frowned slightly when he saw her, clearly surprised.
Marco (curious)
— Valentina? What are you doing here?
Val (sarcastically, arms crossed)
— Need I remind you this is my best friend's house? And she's grieving, in case you forgot. Anyway, come in. I'm not wasting my time arguing with you.
Marco (calm, slightly embarrassed)
— I'm sorry about last time… about the way I spoke to you. I wasn't having a good day, and besides, you really didn't owe me any explanation. I understood he's your cousin.
Val didn't answer. Deep down, part of her wanted to smile and tell him it was fine. But her pride took over. So without a word, she walked back into the living room.
Marco stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and approached carefully. Chloé, who had already stood up, turned toward him. Her eyes were still red from crying, but her gaze was clear and determined.
Marco (softly)
— I'm here, Chloé. Do you want me to do something?
Chloé (calm but firm)
— Yes. Follow me. We need to talk.
Before going upstairs, she gave Val one last look.
Chloé (more gently)
— Val… excuse us for a moment, okay? I need to talk to him alone.
Val simply nodded and sat back down, her chest tightening slightly as she watched them climb the stairs together.
Once upstairs, Chloé opened her bedroom door, stepped inside, and motioned for Marco to follow. He entered hesitantly, and she closed the door behind them. Now they stood face-to-face.
She had her arms crossed, her stare cold and hard.
He looked lost, not yet understanding what was happening.
Marco (intrigued, frowning)
— Can I know what's going on?
Chloé (deep voice, heavy with restrained emotion)
— Was it you, Marco?
She paused.
Chloé (blushing slightly)
— Were you behind my husband's death? Did you hire that shooter? Tell me the truth.
Marco froze. His eyes widened, all color draining from his face. He stepped back, mouth slightly open, unable to form words.
Marco (shocked, stammering)
— What?… No, Chloé, listen to yourself. How could you even believe something like that?
Chloé (cold, imposing voice)
— Fabio was Lorenzo's best friend but also his worst enemy in disguise. Lorenzo killed him with his own hands, which means the danger should be over. So tell me what happened. Who is the man who killed my husband? Can you explain that to me?
Marco (shocked)
— And you think I'm a hidden enemy too? You really think I'm behind Lorenzo's murder?
Chloé (firmly)
— Yes, I do. And if I'm wrong, then prove it. Tell me who killed my husband. Who ordered the hit? ANSWER ME.
Marco's silence stretched on. He swallowed something that looked like a confession, but he said nothing. Chloé's anger rose another level; her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Chloé (furious)
— Answer me, damn it! You were Lorenzo's friend, you know his deals, his enemies, his secrets. Tell me who's behind all this! ANSWER!
Marco closed his eyes for a second, trying to gather his thoughts.
Marco (firmly)
— I… I don't know yet. I'm still investigating, but—
Chloé let out a short laugh full of contempt.
Chloé (furious)
— But nothing. Are you kidding me? I know you have an idea. I have the right to know who killed my husband. So tell me everything, or I'll look at you like you're the murderer.
Marco frowned, hurt, red with anger and shame. He opened his mouth, hesitating between lying or telling the truth and destroying everything. Telling her that the shooter might be her mother's right-hand man, that his own mother might be the one who ordered it… The words burned on his lips.
Marco (shocked)
— Are you crazy or what? How can you accuse me—
Chloé exploded, her scream nearly shaking the room.
Chloé (shouting)
— WHO DID THIS? STOP GOING IN CIRCLES, IS IT ANOTHER ONE OF IRINA'S PEOPLE? ANSWER ME!!
Marco finally lost patience. His voice turned sharp and cold.
Marco (furious)
— No, this has nothing to do with Irina. Stop attacking me with your questions and let me do my job.
Chloé stood in front of the door, arms crossed, every word sounding like a threat.
Chloé (determined)
— You're not leaving this room until you tell me everything about Lorenzo's death.
Marco sighed, trying to avoid the confrontation, but Chloé blocked his way. His face turned red, adrenaline making his body tremble; he wanted to leave, fight, scream.
Marco (calm but firm)
— You're seriously out of your mind.
Chloé stared at him with burning eyes and asked the most terrible question of all.
Chloé (deep voice)
— It was you, wasn't it? You killed Lorenzo, didn't you? Tell the truth. Did you have a grudge against him?
Marco exploded, unable to contain his rage and pain anymore.
Marco (furious)
— Stop this bullshit! Lorenzo was like a brother to me. I didn't kill him, damn it. If you want revenge, go kill your bitch of a mother, because I'm sure she's the one who did it.
Chloé's breath caught. Horrified silence followed, then a crack inside her: her hands trembled, her jaw tightened.
Chloé (breathless)
— My mother? M… my mother?
Marco stepped closer, the words rushing out brutally, like shards he could no longer hold back.
Marco (red with anger)
— Yes, your mother. I'm sure of it… she wanted to separate you from Lorenzo so she could use you in her network. I don't have all the proof yet, but I'm convinced the shooter was hired by her. She used Carlos, Valentina's cousin, to get close to you. Carlos is just a spy your mother paid to seduce you. That was her plan.
Chloé felt her heart tighten painfully in her chest. Too much information at once. She staggered, and Marco grabbed her arm instinctively.
Marco (panicked)
— Chloé, are you okay?!
She didn't answer. She stepped back, eyes wide, torn between confusion and boiling anger. Her ragged breathing betrayed her shock.
Marco (worried)
— I shouldn't have told you all this now… you pushed me too far. Come on, go lie down, I—
Chloé cut him off, her voice trembling but sharp as glass.
Chloé (shaking)
— What are you talking about, Marco? You're talking about MY mother? You know her? Since when have you seen her? How dare you say things like that about her when you don't even know her?
Marco stayed silent, unable to defend himself properly. His guilt filled the room.
Chloé (broken voice)
— Answer me. Why are you saying all this nonsense? Is it true? Tell me.
Marco forced himself to calm down, carefully choosing every word.
Marco (calmly)
— Listen, I'll explain everything. Sit down, calm yourself, and let me talk. After that, you can decide whether you believe me or not.
Without a word, Chloé slowly walked to the couch and collapsed onto it as though her legs had turned to cotton. Her body felt weak, but her eyes remained fixed on Marco, who stood tense before her, ready to reveal everything.
Chloé (broken)
— Tell me everything. My mother abandoned me when I was little. She left my father and me. And now you're telling me she could be behind Lorenzo's murder?
Marco took a deep breath, his eyes heavy.
Marco (calmly)
— A few days ago, Lorenzo told me he would do anything to protect you from your mother, no matter what happened. I asked him why. He confessed that your mother ran a network, something filthy involving prostitution, and that she planned to make you the face of her business. Turn you into merchandise for men willing to pay millions for one night. Your father had asked Lorenzo to protect you, to keep you away from her, especially after your eighteenth birthday, because she had been waiting for that exact moment to come back into your life.
Marco paused, searching for the right words.
Marco (lower voice)
— Lorenzo also asked me to investigate Valentina and the people around her, since you were staying with her and he didn't want to take any risks. I went to Valentina's place and met Carlos, her cousin. At first, because of a misunderstanding, I thought he was her boyfriend. I told Lorenzo about him, and he asked me to investigate Carlos. That's when I discovered a connection between Carlos and your mother.
Chloé's hands tightened against the couch fabric, her nails digging in.
Marco (tense)
— I have sources. My spies told me Carlos met with your mother's right-hand man. They had a plan: Carlos was supposed to get close to you, seduce you, gain your trust, then introduce you to your mother. She intended to meet you that way and never let you leave again. I swear I don't have all the proof yet, but I have serious clues. And if Carlos failed to seduce you, they changed the plan. For them, killing Lorenzo became the perfect solution. That's everything. Now it's your choice whether to believe me or not. It's better if we leave it there for today. Go get some rest.
Heavy silence. Marco's words floated through the room, bitter and terrible. Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked out. The door slammed shut like a guillotine.
Alone, Chloé felt her heart tearing apart. Her body trembled—not from physical pain, but from a burning rage rising from deep inside her. Her eyes were red and fixed as thousands of thoughts crashed violently through her mind.
Chloé (inner voice)
I spent my whole life hating my mother, blaming her for abandoning my father and me. Deep down, I always hoped she would come back one day, say "I'm here," and explain everything. But now I'm learning that the woman I waited for might just be a heartless bitch. Not only did she abandon me, but she may have planned my downfall… and worse, she may have had Lorenzo killed. If I saw her right now, I'd slap her so hard even sin itself would applaud.
Chloé rose to her feet, one hand tangled in her messy hair, her words dripping like venom.
Chloé (bloody, determined)
— Fine, Mom. If you want to play, then let's play. You started the game, but I'll finish it. I'll follow your damn rules, but I'll decide who wins. I swear, the final word will be mine.
Her voice left a trail of pure hatred in the room. She walked toward the bathroom like a wounded animal driven by vengeance. Exhaustion marked her face, but in her eyes burned a cold determination: she would not back down.
Downstairs, in the kitchen, Valentina was focused on preparing a tray of food for her friend. The pan crackled softly, and the smell of spices filled the air.
Marco entered quietly. The moment he saw her, he froze by the doorway, arms crossed, eyes fixed on her.
She had her back turned to him, carefully arranging the tray. He watched her move, captivated, too afraid to say anything.
Marco (inner voice)
She's so damn cute… I wonder if I'll ever have the courage to tell her how much I like her.
Still lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed when Valentina turned around with the tray in her hands and jumped in surprise at seeing him there.
Val (short breath)
— Shit, can't you warn people before standing there?! Look how badly you scared me!
Marco raised his hands awkwardly.
Marco (embarrassed)
— Sorry… uh, who's the food tray for?
Val (dryly)
— For Chloé, obviously. Did you think it was for you? Ugh, leave me alone.
After her sharp reply, she brushed past him quickly, her shoulder grazing his as she hurried out of the kitchen as though fleeing from something.
Marco (surprised)
— What's her problem exactly? She… this is what I think it is, right?
He frowned, but a smile slowly formed on his lips.
Upstairs.
Valentina entered Chloé's room. The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom—Chloé was showering. Val gently placed the tray on the bed, adjusted the cutlery, then turned to leave.
But the moment she opened the door, she came face-to-face with Marco.
Val (coldly)
— What do you want now? Chloé's in the shower, and I think it's time for you to go home. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my friend, you don't need to hang around here, okay?
Marco (smirking)
— Is it because you like me that you talk to me so harshly?
Val felt her heart skip a beat. Heat rushed to her cheeks despite herself. She quietly closed the door behind her, crossed her arms, and lifted her chin to hide her confusion.
Val (sarcastically)
— Stop dreaming. It's not like you're the hottest guy on earth for me to care about you.
Marco (smiling at the corner of his lips)
— I don't need to be the most handsome guy alive for a girl like you to drool over me. And don't tell me you're still mad about what I said last time. I know there's something else.
Val (rolling her eyes)
— And what exactly would that be?
Marco (softly)
— Maybe a little feeling you're trying to hide. Am I wrong?
Val opened her mouth, ready to snap back at him like usual, but the words got stuck.
Her heart was beating too fast.
Marco took a step closer. His gaze locked onto hers without hesitation, without fear.
And suddenly, he tilted his head and captured her lips.
Time stopped. One hand slid to the curve of her waist, pulling her closer; the other tangled gently into her hair, urging her to accept the kiss. Val felt her resistance melt away. Her fingers, clenched against his shirt, slowly relaxed, and she kissed him back. It was tender, burning, unexpected.
The world around them no longer existed. Only their mingled breaths, their pounding hearts, and the tension they had been suppressing for far too long. When they finally pulled apart, Val stood frozen, her lips trembling, her gaze still dazed.
Marco (short breath, smirking)
— Still not interested, huh?
Val regained some composure and crossed her arms as if nothing had happened.
Val (sarcastically)
— Don't get carried away. That was just… an experiment. Nothing more.
Marco (teasingly)
— In that case, I'm available for future experiments anytime you want.
Val rolled her eyes, though a small smile escaped her.
Val (murmuring)
— You're seriously unbearable.
Marco (softly, intense gaze)
— And you… you're even more beautiful when you try to lie. I know you like me just as much as I like you.
A silence settled between them. More electric than awkward. The kind of silence that says everything without a single word.
To be continued...
Sorry for the delay 🙏