The hum of the city faded into the background as Dante Moretti sat in his private study, his mind replaying every moment of the past few months. The accusations, the cold dismissal, and the look on Lia's face when she walked out of his life.
The evidence against Leonardo was damning, but it didn't erase what Dante had done. He had turned on the one woman who had ever mattered to him, the woman who had trusted him with her heart, only to have it shattered by his misplaced fury.
He picked up his phone, his finger hovering over Lia's number. She hadn't changed it—he knew that much. But what would he say? Sorry I ruined your life based on a lie?
The door opened, breaking his thoughts, and Sandro stepped inside. "We've traced Leonardo's recent transactions," he said, setting another folder on Dante's desk. "He's been funneling funds into offshore accounts and planning to make a move against you. I'd wager he wasn't expecting you to catch on so soon."
Dante's jaw tightened. "What else?"
"He's also been meeting with Vittoria Conti."
Dante froze. Vittoria had always been ambitious, but her loyalty had never been to him—it had been to the power he represented. If she had aligned herself with Leonardo, it meant trouble.
"Double your efforts," Dante ordered. "I want to know every move they make."
Sandro nodded but hesitated. "And Lia?"
Dante looked away. The mention of her name brought a sharp pang of regret. "That's my mess to clean up."
At the Romano Villa...
Lia sat in the sun-dappled garden, her hands cradling a cup of coffee as she stared at the flowers blooming around her. The villa had always been a place of comfort, but now it felt like a gilded cage.
Her brothers had been hovering like protective sentinels, unwilling to let her out of their sight. She appreciated their support, but it was overwhelming. She needed space to think, to breathe.
"Lost in thought again?"
She turned to see Niccolò, the second-youngest Romano sibling, leaning against a marble column. His sharp green eyes studied her with a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Don't you have some tech empire to run?" she teased, trying to deflect.
Niccolò smirked. "I have people for that." He walked over, taking the seat across from her. "You've been quiet lately. Too quiet."
Lia sighed. "I'm fine, Nico."
"No, you're not," he said bluntly. "And you don't have to be."
She looked away, her fingers tightening around the cup. "What do you want me to say? That I'm angry? That I feel like my entire life fell apart because of him?"
"If that's how you feel, then yes," Niccolò said, his voice softening. "Lia, you don't have to carry this alone. You have us."
She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. "I can't stop thinking about him," she admitted. "Even after everything, I can't just… turn it off."
Niccolò leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You loved him. That doesn't just go away. But love doesn't excuse what he did to you. Don't forget that."
"I haven't," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He reached out, covering her hand with his. "Good. Because if he ever tries to come back into your life, he's going to have to get through us first."
Despite herself, Lia smiled. "You're all so dramatic."
"It's a family trait," Niccolò said with a grin.
That Night...
Dante stood outside the Romano villa, his car idling on the quiet street. The sight of the grand estate brought back memories he had no right to hold on to—nights spent laughing with Lia's brothers, dinners where she had lit up the room with her smile.
He had no illusions about what would happen if they saw him now. The Romano brothers wouldn't hesitate to throw him out, or worse.
But this wasn't about them. It was about Lia.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the car, the cool night air biting against his skin. He made his way to the gate, his pulse hammering in his ears.
He rang the bell, the sound echoing through the quiet night.
A moment later, the gate creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped out.
Alessio Romano.
Dante tensed as Lia's eldest brother approached, his sharp eyes narrowing when they landed on him. Alessio stopped a few feet away, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
"You've got some nerve showing up here," Alessio said, his voice low and dangerous.
"I need to see Lia," Dante said, forcing himself to hold the other man's gaze.
Alessio scoffed. "After everything you've done, you think you can just waltz in here and—"
"It's important," Dante interrupted, his voice firm. "Please, Alessio. Just give me five minutes."
Alessio studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he shook his head. "You don't deserve it. But I'm not the one you need to convince."
He turned and walked back to the villa, leaving Dante standing at the gate.
Minutes passed, each one stretching into eternity. Then, the door opened again, and Lia stepped out.
She froze when she saw him, her expression a mix of shock and anger.
"Dante," she said, her voice cold. "What are you doing here?"
To Be Continued...