Chapter 4 A Deal With Shadows

The following days felt like an endless loop of cold glances and tension-filled silences. Alessia moved through the mansion like a ghost, her presence marked only by the occasional echo of her footsteps across the polished floors. The grand halls of the De Santis estate, once a symbol of power and wealth, now felt like a labyrinth, every turn leading her deeper into a world she wasn't sure she was meant to inhabit.

Her marriage to Luca had been a practical arrangement, a way to unite two powerful families. But the curse, the shadow of death looming over them, made every moment feel like a ticking time bomb. There was no escaping it-not even in her thoughts, where the whispers of the past seemed to claw at her from the edges of her mind.

Alessia sat at the grand piano, her fingers resting on the keys but not playing. The sound of her own breath filled the room, drowning out the distant noise of the city beyond the walls. Music had always been her escape, the one thing that allowed her to forget the weight of her family's legacy. But here, in this house, it felt hollow.

Her father had never let her forget the Moretti name. The honor, the duty-it had been drummed into her from an early age. But the disgrace that had followed him had seeped into everything, leaving nothing untouched. And now, here she was, forced to continue the bloodline in a marriage she hadn't chosen.

Footsteps echoed behind her, slow and deliberate, the sound unmistakable. Luca.

She didn't turn, didn't acknowledge his presence immediately. She wasn't sure what to say to him anymore. His visit to her room a few days ago had shaken her more than she cared to admit. The truth about her father's deal with the Romani woman-how deep the web of their families' past really went-was something she wasn't ready to confront. Yet, she couldn't ignore the gnawing need to understand, to uncover the secrets that had led to her entanglement in this cursed union.

Luca stopped behind her, his shadow falling over the piano. "You haven't played since we arrived," he said, his voice softer than usual.

Alessia's fingers brushed across the keys, a single note ringing out in the empty room. "Music doesn't change anything," she replied, her voice distant.

Luca's presence felt heavy, like a storm waiting to break. But she refused to acknowledge the flicker of something in his gaze-something more than the cold, calculating heir to the De Santis empire she had come to know.

"Music has always been your escape," he said. "But I understand. This place-it's not home for you, and I doubt it ever will be."

Alessia's eyes finally lifted to meet his. "And you?" she asked, her voice sharp. "Is this place home for you? The De Santis empire, the bloodshed, the constant war? Is this what you wanted?"

Luca's expression darkened, his jaw tightening. He didn't speak for a moment, his gaze shifting to the distant view outside the window. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the room.

"No," he said finally, his voice low. "This isn't what I wanted. But it's what I was born into. And now, it's what I'm stuck with."

Alessia didn't know whether to feel sympathy or anger. She had once seen Luca as a man of power, a force to be reckoned with. But now, she saw a man trapped by his own bloodline, cursed to follow a path that had been carved out for him long before his birth.

"Is that all you are, Luca?" she asked, her words sharp. "A pawn? A man who just follows orders?"

The silence that followed was thick with tension. Luca's eyes locked with hers, a flicker of something unreadable passing between them.

"I don't follow orders," he said, his voice cutting through the stillness. "But I play the game. And sometimes, the game plays you."

Alessia stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "Then what game are we playing, Luca?" she demanded. "Because right now, it feels like I'm not even in control of my own life."

His gaze softened for a brief moment, though his expression remained guarded. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "You don't have to play, Alessia. But the game is already in motion. And we're both in it, whether we like it or not."

She stared at him, her chest tightening. The words were familiar, but they were nothing like what she had expected. The marriage. The curse. The games they were forced to play-they were all part of something larger than either of them, something that neither of them fully understood.

"What are you asking me, Luca?" she asked, her voice trembling with frustration.

Luca didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached out, his hand hovering over hers, his touch hesitant but certain. "I'm asking you to trust me," he said quietly. "We need each other to survive this."

Alessia's heart hammered in her chest, the pull between them undeniable, yet dangerous. She had never trusted anyone in this world-not even her own family. But something in Luca's voice, something in the way he spoke, made her question everything she had believed.

"I don't know if I can trust you," she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips.

Luca's fingers brushed lightly against hers, and for the first time since their wedding, she didn't feel the weight of the curse pressing down on her. There was just this moment, this fleeting connection between them.

"You don't have to trust me yet," he said softly. "But you will. We'll make sure of it."

Before she could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted them. The door to the room swung open, and one of Luca's most trusted men, Marco, stepped inside, his face grim.

"We have a problem," Marco said, his voice tense. "There's been an attack on the Moretti estate. It looks like they've come for you."

Alessia's heart dropped. She turned to Luca, fear flashing in her eyes.

"We need to leave. Now," Luca said, his voice hardening with authority. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward the door. "No time for questions. Just move."