The next day.
Lorenzo's Villa – Night.
The house was bathed in a dim half-light, illuminated only by a few soft lamps along the staircase. The silence felt heavy, as if it were holding its breath along with them.
Chloé appeared at the top of the stairs, her shadow gliding along the walls.
Dressed in perfectly fitted black skinny jeans and a tight black t-shirt hugging the shape of her already visible belly, she walked forward with determined steps. Her hair was tied into a tight bun, disciplined, almost military. Thin black glasses hid her gaze, though the intensity of her emotions could still be sensed beneath them. Dark gloves covered her hands, and black sneakers softened every step she took.
In her palm rested Lorenzo's hand.
He wore a black tracksuit with a matching sweater that emphasized the strength of his torso. His black glasses made him look even more intimidating than usual. In his other hand, he carried a black briefcase. Heavy. Important. The atmosphere vibrated with tension.
When they reached the living room, Lorenzo slowly let go of her hand, as if breaking contact hurt him. He placed his warm palm against Chloé's cheek and stared at her. His eyes revealed a powerful mix of fear, pride, and raw love.
Lorenzo (worried)
— Baby… it's still not too late to turn back. You know the most important thing is your safety… and our child's.
His voice trembled slightly despite the image of strength he tried to maintain.
Chloé (reassuring)
— I'm fine, my love… and I want to do this. I want to be part of it. And I really need to see her… to tell her everything I feel.
Her eyes shone behind the glasses, filled with a soft but unshakable determination.
Lorenzo studied her for a long moment, as if trying to memorize every detail of her face. Then he took a deep breath and softened.
Lorenzo (calmly)
— Alright… we'll do it your way. I'm leaving now. Please be careful.
Chloé nodded. Lorenzo rested his forehead against hers and kissed it slowly, almost painfully.
Then he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him with a force mixed with anxiety. His hands trembled slightly against her back.
Time itself seemed to stop.
Finally, he pulled away from her reluctantly.
Without another word, he walked toward the front door, opened it, and disappeared into the courtyard, leaving behind an immediate feeling of emptiness.
Chloé remained motionless for a few seconds, breathing slowly.
She checked her watch, inhaled deeply, then walked toward the couch. She grabbed her handbag, slipped the strap over her shoulder, and turned toward the exit.
Before she could reach the door, the doorbell rang, shattering the silence like breaking glass.
She opened it… and found herself face to face with Carlos.
He stood upright on the doorstep, illuminated by the outside lights. Dressed in a perfectly tailored three-piece black suit, he radiated effortless elegance. His white shirt, slightly open at the chest, added a controlled sensuality to his appearance. His woody cologne blended with the cool night air.
His gaze was calm, steady, almost gentle. A faint smile curved across his lips.
Carlos (softly)
— Hey Chloé, were you heading out?
She lowered her head slightly, her shoulders relaxing for a brief moment.
Chloé (sadly)
— Not really… I just wanted to go out and get some fresh air. I feel like I'm suffocating alone in this house.
Carlos smiled, but not mockingly. It was more a compassionate smile.
Carlos (slight smile)
— Perfect then. That's exactly why I came. I wanted to invite you to dinner… at our beach vacation house. The one Valentina and I share with our family. I think, in your condition, the sea air might do you some good.
At those words, something softened in Chloé's face. A fragile, almost shy smile appeared on her lips. She slowly removed her glasses and slipped them into her bag, revealing eyes filled with conflicting emotions. Then she looked back up at Carlos.
Chloé (sighing)
— I think for once… I won't refuse your invitation. I accept.
Hearing that, Carlos allowed himself a discreet smile, one of those smiles he couldn't hide when he sensed victory approaching. Chloé had stepped into his trap — at least that was how he saw it — and satisfaction made his heart beat faster.
Carlos (moved)
— I'm glad then… I'll wait outside while you go change.
Chloé slightly lifted her chin, amused, a teasing spark in her eyes.
Chloé (amused smile)
— Change? No, I'm comfortable like this. Does it bother you?
Carlos stared at her, genuinely surprised. His brows lifted in confusion.
Carlos (surprised)
— No, but… you're dressed entirely in black. You're even wearing gloves. It looks like you're going on a mission.
Chloé's laughter broke through the air around them, light and almost crystal-clear. Seeing her relax like that unsettled Carlos for a second, leaving him frozen in confusion.
Carlos (surprised)
— Why are you laughing? I—
Chloé (cutting him off calmly)
— Relax, I'm just wearing gloves because it's cold. As you can see… I'm pregnant, and my belly is already growing. I don't want to risk catching a cold.
She placed a protective hand over her rounded belly before lifting her eyes back to him, gentle but impatient.
Chloé (calmly)
— Anyway… shall we go?
Carlos straightened his shoulders, immediately recovering his gentlemanly composure.
Carlos (gentlemanly)
— Yes, after you.
He stepped aside to let her pass. Chloé walked out of the house, slowly closing the door behind her, and together they headed toward the car. The night lights reflected faintly on the dark bodywork. Carlos hurried to open the passenger door for her, an elegant gesture, perhaps too calculated. Chloé got inside, and he gently closed the door before circling around and taking his place behind the wheel.
For a moment, he turned toward her. His smile deepened, almost seductive, before he started the engine. The car glided out of the driveway, disappearing into the night.
Meanwhile, in a large open seaside house facing the restless ocean stirred by a light wind, Chloé's mother enjoyed a moment of solitude.
Seated at a large outdoor table beside a swimming pool reflecting the sky, she held a crystal glass of champagne between her fingers. Golden bubbles slid along the glass as she drank slowly, lips stretched into a satisfied, almost cruel smile.
Standing before her with his hands crossed behind his back was her right-hand man. He watched the horizon attentively, rigid, ready to respond to the slightest request.
Chloé's Mother (deep voice)
— What time will they arrive?
Right-Hand Man (reassuring)
— Soon, madam. They'll be here very soon.
She tilted her head, her eyes glowing with a strange mixture of excitement and nostalgia. A glow that held nothing maternal.
Chloé's Mother (smiling)
— Finally… I'll finally have the opportunity to see my daughter.
She slowly swirled her champagne, watching the bubbles rise.
Chloé's Mother (deep voice)
— Even if it's not for very holy reasons, I have to admit it.
A dark, amused breath escaped her throat.
Chloé's Mother (eyes shining)
— I know she'll refuse to join my network, but… honestly, I don't care.
She drank the last sip and placed the glass down with a sharp clack.
Chloé's Mother (coldly)
— If she wants to play the rebel… I'll be forced to become very, very harsh with her. There's no way I'll let her ruin my plans.
Her smile widened, cold and merciless. Behind her, the sea rumbled softly, echoing her intentions.
Elsewhere, inside Carlos' car, a heavy silence settled over them like a veil.
Chloé kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead, though she wasn't truly looking at anything. Her gaze moved nervously from one point to another, constantly returning to her watch. Every few seconds, her wrist lifted almost unconsciously. Carlos noticed, of course, but remained silent.
His hands gripping the steering wheel betrayed his own tension. His knuckles whitened against the leather as though he were trying to crush his doubts. He had succeeded in trapping Chloé, and part of him felt a bitter sort of satisfaction.
Carlos (inner voice)
— Finally… I wish this moment with her had happened under different circumstances. I wanted to enjoy her presence… but now I'm forced to deliver her to her mother.
Chloé's watch vibrated lightly against her skin. She inhaled slowly and counted in her mind.
Chloé (inner voice)
— One… two… three… I think it's time.
Suddenly, she began coughing violently. A dry, harsh cough, almost tearing through her throat. Her hand pressed against her chest as though she couldn't breathe.
Carlos jolted in panic.
Carlos (panicked)
— Chloé? Chloé, what's wrong? Are you okay? Why are you coughing? Are you cold? Say something!
She continued coughing, breathless and shaking.
Chloé (coughing)
— S… st… stop… the car… I need… I need water…
Carlos' hands trembled on the wheel. He gritted his teeth, shot her a terrified glance, and sharply pulled over to the side of the road. The tires screeched lightly against the asphalt before the car stopped.
Carlos (shaking voice)
— Stay here, okay? I'll get you water. Don't move.
Chloé nodded while still coughing, her shoulders shaking as though caught in uncontrollable spasms. Carlos threw open the door, rushed out, slammed it shut behind him, and sprinted toward the small roadside kiosk nearby.
But the moment he disappeared from view, the coughing stopped instantly.
Chloé's breathing returned to normal. She quickly opened her bag with precise movements, revealing a small tissue and a tiny box filled with yellow liquid. Her expression hardened with concentration.
Inside the silent car, she carefully soaked the tissue with the liquid, making sure every inch was covered. Then she closed the box, slipped it back into her bag, and kept the tissue hidden in her hand.
The door suddenly opened again. Carlos returned holding a bottle of water, breathing hard.
He sat down, shut the door, and handed it to her.
Chloé took the bottle with trembling fingers — a flawless performance — and drank a small sip.
Carlos (worried)
— Do you feel better?
Chloé (weak voice)
— Yes… yes, thank you. I'm okay. How much longer until we arrive?
Carlos (reassuring)
— About five minutes. We'll be at the beach very soon, don't worry.
She nodded, her face perfectly calm again, then turned her gaze back toward the road. Carlos restarted the car. The engine vibrated. The world began moving once more.
Chloé (inner voice)
— I hope everything goes well… I really hope so.
Hidden beneath her hair in her right ear, a tiny earpiece vibrated softly.
Lorenzo's low, worried voice slipped through it.
Lorenzo (worried)
— Baby… are you okay? I heard you coughing, you—
Chloé (whispering, barely audible)
— Shhh… don't worry. That was just so Carlos wouldn't—
Carlos suddenly turned his head toward her, surprised.
Carlos (surprised)
— Chloé? Were you talking to me?
She flinched slightly, then a nervous smile crossed her face for a split second.
Chloé (light smile)
— Uh… no. I just remembered something.
Carlos nodded, reassured, completely unaware of the secret exchange that had just taken place, unaware of everything that was about to happen. He focused back on the road, almost relieved.
Inside the earpiece, Lorenzo's voice became deeper, tighter with emotion.
Lorenzo (low, tense voice)
— I can't stand the thought of you being in the same car as that man. If this doesn't end quickly… I swear I'm gonna lose it.
Despite herself, Chloé smiled softly. Lorenzo was jealous. And that simple detail alone was enough to ease, if only for a moment, the tension squeezing her heart.
Carlos saw her smile and smiled too, naïvely convinced he was the reason for it.
He had no idea.
He had no idea that everything had just changed.
To be continued…