Chapter 4 Reality

The murmurs began before Maeve even saw her. When she turned toward the source, her breath hitched. Isadora-perfectly poised, perfectly unwanted-stood at the doorway, and she was smiling at Luca as if Maeve didn't exist.

Maeve's confusion grew as Claudia crossed the room to embrace the woman. "I took the liberty of inviting her," Claudia said, glancing toward Antonio with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Antonio's jaw tightened, his displeasure clear, though he said nothing. Beside Maeve, Luca remained silent, but she noticed the faintest shift in his posture-a tension she hadn't seen before.

Isadora smiled at the room, but her focus lingered on Luca. "I couldn't resist when Claudia told me there was a family dinner. It's been far too long since I've seen everyone."

Maeve's chest tightened as Isadora's gaze flicked to her, assessing, before turning back to Luca. "And you, Luca," she said with a faint smile. "It's been... what, seven months? How time flies."

Maeve looked to Luca, hoping for some reassurance, but his face remained impassive.

Antonio cleared his throat, gesturing toward an empty seat. "Let's eat."

Isadora took the seat opposite Luca, her movements fluid and deliberate. Her hand brushed his arm as she passed, the touch light but intimate. Maeve clenched her fingers beneath the table, her heart pounding.

Halfway through dinner, the tension reached its breaking point.

"So, Maeve," Claudia began, her tone deceptively light. "I'm curious-has Luca told you much about his... past?"

Maeve blinked, glancing at Luca. "Not much," she admitted cautiously.

"How surprising," Claudia said, her lips curving into a sharp smile. "Did you know, for instance, that he was engaged before?"

Maeve froze, the words hitting her like a blow. She looked to Luca, but he kept his gaze firmly on his plate, his jaw tightening.

"Yes," Claudia continued, clearly enjoying herself. "Luca and Isadora were quite the match. Everyone thought their engagement was perfect. Two families coming together, shared goals, shared... affections." She sipped her wine slowly, her eyes gleaming as she glanced at Maeve.

Maeve's throat tightened as she turned her gaze to Luca, silently pleading for some acknowledgment, but he remained silent, his expression as cold and distant as ever.

"It's ancient history," Antonio cut in, his voice firm. His sharp glance at Claudia warned her to stop, but the damage had already been done.

"Ancient, perhaps," Isadora said softly, her voice dripping with honey. "But history has a way of shaping the present, doesn't it?" She turned her gaze to Maeve, her expression almost pitying. "You've married into a complicated family, Maeve. I hope Luca has prepared you for what that means."

Maeve straightened, refusing to let the comment unsettle her. "I'm learning quickly," she said, her voice calm despite the storm brewing in her chest.

Isadora's lips twitched in amusement. "Good. It's important to be adaptable."

Claudia leaned forward, her smile icy. "Isadora was always adaptable. She handled the pressures of being part of this family with such grace. A shame things didn't work out."

Luca's voice finally broke through the tension, low and clipped. "That's enough."

The room fell silent, the authority in his tone undeniable. Maeve turned to him, startled by the sudden shift, but he didn't meet her gaze.

Antonio cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground. "Maeve, how is your father? Any updates?"

Maeve swallowed hard, grateful for the change in topic. "He's still in a coma," she said quietly. "But my brother says there's been a small improvement."

"That's good to hear," Antonio said, his tone warm. "Family is everything. You've shown great strength through all of this."

Maeve nodded, her hands trembling slightly in her lap. Across the table, Isadora watched her with a faint, knowing smile, as if she could see every crack Maeve was trying to hide.

The dinner had been unbearable for Maeve. Isadora's presence, Claudia's veiled insults, and Luca's stoic silence had left her feeling utterly out of place. As the dinner wound down, she excused herself to the garden, needing a moment to breathe.

Inside the dining room, the atmosphere remained tense. Antonio had retreated to his study, and Claudia sat sipping her wine, a satisfied smirk on her lips as she watched Isadora linger near Luca.

"You've been quiet tonight," Isadora said softly, stepping closer to him.

Luca didn't look at her immediately, his jaw tightening. "What are you doing here, Isadora?"

"Claudia invited me," she said with a shrug, her voice light but her eyes heavy with meaning. "And honestly, how could I say no? I wanted to see you, Luca."

"You shouldn't have come," he replied, his voice low and firm.

Isadora tilted her head, studying him. "Why not? Are you afraid of what your wife might think?" She stepped closer, her perfume wafting through the space between them. "Or is it because you still feel something for me?"

Luca's eyes darkened, but he said nothing.

Isadora took another step forward, closing the distance between them. "We had something real, Luca," she whispered, her voice soft and intimate. "You can't just pretend it never existed."

He exhaled sharply, his control slipping for just a moment. "It's over, Isadora. It's been over for a long time."

"Then why can't you even look at me without that tension in your eyes?" she challenged, her hand lightly brushing his arm.

Luca finally looked at her, his gaze hard and unreadable. "Because you don't know when to let go."

"And neither do you," she said, a small, defiant smile tugging at her lips.

Before he could respond, Isadora reached up, her fingers grazing his jaw before she turned away, her expression a mixture of satisfaction and defiance.

As Isadora sauntered away, Luca stood rooted in place, his mind a tangle of anger and regret. He hadn't wanted any of this-hadn't wanted to be reminded of the past, of a time that was gone. But Isadora's presence had unsettled him, reopening wounds he thought had long healed.

Maeve watched from the shadows of the hallway, her chest tightening with every second. The kiss that never happened was still fresh in her mind, her eyes burning with the image of their closeness, the way Isadora had claimed him with a simple touch.

He didn't look at me like that, Maeve thought bitterly, her stomach churning with the realization that she wasn't the one who mattered to him.

Luca didn't notice her standing there. His back was to her as he stood, unmoving, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere. Maeve's heart ached as she turned and fled from the scene, each step taking her further from the man she had hoped would care for her.

She didn't know where she was going. All she knew was that she couldn't stay there, not with the hurt gnawing at her from the inside out.

The night air hit her face as she stepped out into the darkness, her pulse racing. She had been foolish to think there was a place for her here. A place in his life, in his world, she thought bitterly. A world where people like Isadora still had a claim on him.

She clenched her fists at her sides, fighting to keep the tears at bay. I'm stronger than this. I won't let him see me break.