At night — Lorenzo's villa.
Sitting on her bed, leaning against the pillows, Chloé stared into the emptiness without truly seeing it. Her face still carried the traces of dried tears, and her reddened eyes betrayed her exhaustion. Her features looked drained, as though every breath required effort. The room was drowned in silence and darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp.
Chloé (inner voice)
I feel like I'm alone in this world now… even though I know a tiny being is growing inside me. The doctor told me to stay calm, for him… for us. Valentina offered to stay, but I refused. My in-laws called, they wanted to see me, but… no. I resent them. They stole my final goodbye to Lorenzo. How could they stop me from being there at his funeral? I feel empty. The only thing keeping me alive is this desire… the desire to make my mother pay. To see her end up in prison, to see justice done.
Chloé remained frozen in her thoughts. The silence was so heavy she could hear the beating of her own heart… until a faint scraping sound echoed through the room.
A piece of paper had just been slid under the door.
She blinked, stunned, her breath caught in her throat.
Chloé (whispering, trembling)
— What… what is that? Who's there?
A chill crawled down her spine. Hesitantly, she looked around before slowly standing up. Her thin red nightdress slid against her bare skin, exposing her trembling shoulders. Barefoot on the cold floor, she walked toward the door in tiny steps, every sound amplified by the silence of the sleeping villa.
She crouched down and picked up the paper. Her fingers shook violently. Written on it in neat letters:
"Come out of the room."
Her heart skipped a beat. She stayed still for a moment, her throat tightening.
Chloé (whispering, panicked)
— What the hell is this?
Fear and curiosity mixed in her gaze. Carefully, she opened the door, breath trembling, and stepped into the hallway. The darkness there was deeper, shadows dancing along the walls. She quietly closed the door behind her, almost noiselessly, as if afraid of waking a sleeping monster.
Still holding the paper, she slowly walked through the hallway, her heartbeat roaring in her ears. Every footstep echoed in the silence. Reaching the top of the staircase, she suddenly froze.
Her eyes widened. Her breathing stopped.
Downstairs, in the living room facing the staircase, illuminated by pale moonlight filtering through the large glass windows, a man stood motionless.
Black T-shirt. Matching pants. Hands in his pockets. Eyes fixed on her.
Chloé (trembling voice, stammering)
— You… you… you...
The paper slipped from her fingers and floated softly to the floor. The world seemed to stop.
It was Lorenzo. Her Lorenzo. Alive.
Chloé felt her legs nearly give out beneath her. Her heart, frozen for a second, suddenly raced uncontrollably.
Chloé (broken whisper)
— Lorenzo… is… is it really you? I'm going crazy, right? Tell me I'm not dreaming.
Lorenzo slowly lifted his head toward her. A faint smile crossed his face, but his eyes… his eyes were real, filled with raw emotion.
He climbed the stairs one step at a time, calmly, never looking away from her. Chloé remained frozen, one trembling hand pressed against her chest as she tried to contain the storm inside her.
When he finally reached her, he slipped one hand behind her waist and gently pulled her against him. She felt the warmth of his body, the calm strength of his arms around her.
Lorenzo (whispering, deep soothing voice)
— Shh… baby, don't say anything. Just stay here… in my arms. You're not dreaming. It's really me. Your grumpy bad boy has no intention of dying or abandoning you, not now, not ever. So… hold me tight.
Chloé burst into tears, shaking from emotion. Her arms wrapped around him desperately. She buried her face against his chest, breathing in the scent she thought she had lost forever.
Chloé (crying, broken voice)
— My love… I… I can't believe it. Why did they tell me you were dead? Why...
Lorenzo kissed her hair tenderly, his fingers stroking the back of her trembling neck. He held her even tighter, as though trying to prove this was real, that death had not won. The world could collapse around them…
For the first time in days, Chloé could finally breathe again.
Lorenzo (softly)
— Don't say anything, baby. I'll explain everything, but stay calm… for our baby's sake.
Chloé (broken voice)
— B-baby? You… you know?
Lorenzo (calmly)
— Yes, my love. And I'm the happiest man alive.
Lorenzo slowly pulled away, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her tenderly. Their kiss was soft, filled with emotion, lasting several seconds before they parted. Forehead against forehead, they could feel their uneven breaths mingling together.
Chloé (trembling voice)
— Why did you fake your death? Why did you do this, Lorenzo? Do you know how guilty I felt? Do you know how much it hurt? You...
Lorenzo (softly)
— Shh… I know. But I had to do it. I'll explain everything, but right now… I just want you. I want you more than ever.
After those words, Lorenzo lifted Chloé into his arms, holding her tightly against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. Without another word, Lorenzo carried her into the bedroom, opened the door, and shut it behind them with his foot.
He approached the bed and gently laid her down on her back. Then he straightened up and slowly removed his T-shirt, letting it fall to the floor. His pants followed. Under Chloé's burning gaze, he climbed back onto the bed and laid beside her, careful and gentle.
He leaned down and kissed her again, long and tender. Chloé instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, responding to the kiss with all the love and desperation she had buried inside her. Their foreheads touched, their breaths warm against each other.
Chloé (whispering shakily)
— I thought I lost you forever...
Lorenzo brushed his fingers against her cheek, wiping away the tears still clinging to her skin.
Lorenzo (softly)
— Never. You hear me? Never.
He held her against him for a long moment, as if neither of them wanted reality to return. Their bodies remained tangled together beneath the dim light, hearts beating wildly after days of grief and fear.
Chloé rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the sound she thought she would never hear again.
Chloé (low voice)
— Now… can you tell me how this is possible? How can you be here when everyone thought you were dead?
Lorenzo closed his eyes briefly before tightening his arms around her.
Lorenzo (quietly)
— Go to sleep… We'll talk about it, but not tonight. Tonight, I just want you safe in my arms.
Chloé didn't answer. Her eyelids slowly closed, heavy with exhaustion and tenderness. She curled closer against him, searching for his warmth, his presence. Lorenzo held her gently but firmly, as though he wanted to shield her from every danger still waiting outside those walls.
Chloé (inner voice)
I still don't understand what happened. A few minutes ago, I was mourning him… and now I can breathe in his scent, hear his heart beating beneath my cheek. Is this a dream? If it is, then I never want to wake up. And even if tomorrow I wake up alone again… at least I had this moment. This moment where everything felt possible again.
On the other side of the city, at Marco's villa, an impatient silhouette paced in front of the door. Valentina pressed repeatedly on the doorbell as though she wanted to wake the entire neighborhood. She wore a midnight-blue dress with thin straps that hugged every curve of her body. Her hair was tied up in an almost too-perfect bun, betraying the effort she had put into getting ready.
Val (muttering under her breath)
— Did he disappear or what? I've been ringing for ten minutes… He's doing it on purpose, that idiot. I swear he's gonna—
The door suddenly opened.
Marco appeared in the doorway wearing only sweatpants low on his hips, his chest bare, water droplets still glistening on his skin. Wet strands of dark hair fell across his forehead.
Marco (smirking)
— Hey… I was in the shower. Sorry for the wait, I didn't hear it right away. Come in...
Valentina froze completely. Her eyes traveled from Marco's chest to his shoulders, then to his smile… and she completely forgot how to breathe.
Marco (teasing)
— Hey, are you gonna stand there forever? I know it's hard to look away from a masterpiece like this, but still, come inside.
She jolted awkwardly and walked into the living room without a word, staring at the floor as if it might swallow her whole. Marco closed the door behind her, amused.
Marco (smiling)
— I honestly thought you wouldn't come. Weren't you scared I'd kidnap you at my place?
Val (inner voice)
Please Lord, let him do it. Let him kidnap me in his arms, lock me in his bathroom, and keep me there until Christmas… No, stop it Valentina, breathe.
She looked back up, trying to regain composure, but her flushed cheeks betrayed her instantly.
Marco (mocking playfully)
— So, I see it's hard for you to talk when I'm shirtless. It's flattering, but should I put on a sweater so you can find your words again?
Val (pretending to be offended)
— What? You think I'm drooling over your… tiny arms that look like chopsticks? Please.
Marco (provocative grin)
— Maybe chopsticks, but they're enough to melt the way you look at me. I saw you staring since you walked in. Looked like you were trying to count my abs.
Valentina's cheeks turned bright red. To hide her embarrassment, she frowned and forced an angry tone.
Val (furious)
— I don't even know why I came here! You drive me insane! I'm leaving, idiot.
She turned sharply toward the door. But before she could reach the handle, Marco gently caught her arm. In one smooth motion, he spun her back toward him and pinned her softly against the door. His damp chest brushed against hers, and suddenly all the air between them vanished.
He delicately trapped her wrists behind her back, his gaze locked onto hers. His voice lowered, deep and soft at once.
Marco (whispering)
— You say you want to leave… but your body says the exact opposite.
Val (trembling)
— Let go of me, Marco, I… I'm warning you...
Marco (seductive smile)
— I think we've played indifferent long enough. It's time to get serious.
And without giving her time to answer, he tilted his head and captured her lips.
The kiss began in surprise, hesitant at first, before turning deeper, warmer. Val's hands freed themselves and slid up to Marco's neck. She kissed him back as though she had been waiting for it forever.
Marco's hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer against him. Their breaths tangled together in the heat of the moment. It was the kind of kiss that erased everything else: time, doubt, the entire world.
To be continued…