Chapter 5 First Glimpse of Danger

The silence in the Moretti estate had a peculiar weight, like the hush before a thunderstorm. Aura walked along the marble corridor, her fingers brushing the cool stone wall as if grounding herself. The morning orientation had ended, but the unease had not. Every corner of this mansion held secrets, and she was beginning to realise that even the air here whispered warnings.

She didn't know where she was going, not exactly. Her feet moved on instinct, drawn by the need to move, to breathe. Anything to escape the stifling quiet of her quarters or the surveillance she felt in every step. It wasn't just the cameras. It was the way the staff looked at her-too carefully. The way doors closed when she approached. As if her mere presence could trigger something dangerous.

A sudden hush fell over the hallway ahead. Aura paused behind a carved pillar and listened. Voices-two men, speaking in hushed Italian. She didn't understand the language fully, but their tone sent chills down her arms. Low. Urgent. Threatening.

She peered around the pillar.

One of them was Matteo-the man who'd stood beside Dante at the wedding with a face like carved steel and eyes that didn't blink enough. The other, unfamiliar. Taller, thinner, a slithering energy in his posture.

"She's just a girl," the stranger muttered, slipping into English, unaware of her presence. "You've married him to a pawn. The Moretti line deserves better."

Matteo's response was low and vicious. "Careful. That pawn has teeth. And she's his now."

The man snorted. "For now."

Aura's breath caught. A floorboard creaked beneath her foot. Too late. Matteo turned sharply. Their eyes met.

His expression didn't change-didn't flinch or narrow or harden. It simply was. As if he'd already known she was there. As if he'd been waiting for her to listen.

"Lost, Signora?" he asked, voice deceptively soft.

She straightened, fighting the instinct to run. "No. Just... exploring."

The other man smirked. "Brave thing, wandering around like that."

Matteo cut a look at him. "She is allowed to walk home."

"Home?" The stranger's eyes sparkled with derision. "We'll see how long that lasts."

Matteo took a step forward, positioning himself subtly between her and the stranger. Not protectively. Possessively.

Aura stiffened.

"Go back to your wing," Matteo said. "Mrs. Cossimo will be looking for you."

There was no room for argument in his tone. Still, Aura hesitated, just long enough to feel the danger coiling tighter. She turned and walked away, back straight, heart pounding.

She didn't know who that man was. But something told her he didn't care whether she walked or bled.

Renata was waiting in her quarters, folding fresh linens into a drawer. She didn't look up when Aura entered, but her posture stiffened, the silence between them sharper than glass.

"Who was that man?" Aura asked.

Renata didn't respond immediately. Her hands slowed, then stilled.

"You saw someone?"

"Yes. With Matteo. Tall. The scar on his temple. They were speaking about me."

Renata's jaw tightened, barely perceptible. "That would be Rocco Valente. He's not part of the staff. He's... an associate."

"Of Dante's?"

"No. Of his father's."

Aura stepped closer. "Why was he here?"

Renata finally turned to face her. "Because not everyone agrees with this marriage. Rocco believes Signor Moretti's choices weaken the family. That marrying outside the bloodline sends a message of softness."

"Softness?" Aura laughed bitterly. "Dante is many things, but soft isn't one of them."

Renata didn't smile. "Rocco sees you as a threat. To tradition. To loyalty. He's not the only one."

The words hung between them. Aura absorbed them like bruises-quiet and deep. She hadn't just married into wealth and power. She had married into a legacy of fear.

A knock at the door interrupted them. A staff member delivered a simple note on thick stationery. The handwriting was sharp. Masculine.

East Courtyard. Now.

No signature.

Renata's face paled when she read over Aura's shoulder. "Don't go."

"I think I have to."

The east courtyard was empty when she arrived, save for one figure sitting beneath the olive tree. Not Dante.

Mrs. Cossimo.

Aura almost turned around. But something in the woman's posture-rigid, unreadable-held her in place.

"You were seen speaking with Valente," Mrs. Cossimo said without preamble.

"I overheard him. I didn't mean to."

"You didn't mean to be in the restricted corridor either, I presume?"

Aura lifted her chin. "No one told me it was restricted."

Mrs. Cossimo's eyes narrowed, mouth thinning into a razor slash. "You think ignorance protects you here?"

"I think I deserve to know what danger I'm in."

"You are in a marriage, not a battlefield."

Aura took a step forward. "Then why does it feel like both?"

Mrs. Cossimo stood slowly, her clipboard tight in her grasp. "Because you've been dropped into a war you were never meant to survive."

Aura's throat tightened.

"I will give you one piece of advice, Signora Moretti," she continued, voice as crisp as winter air. "Do not confuse your wedding ring with protection. It is a leash. One Dante might hold, but others would be happy to snap."

She walked past Aura without waiting for a response.

Aura stayed beneath the olive tree long after she'd gone, eyes fixed on the horizon, mind racing. She hadn't seen blood. Not yet. But she had seen what came before it. The posture. The silence. The warning is in everyone's eyes.

And in this house, warnings were never given twice.

That night, the temperature dropped sharply, the stone floors biting at her feet as she padded quietly to the window. Below, the gardens swayed in silver moonlight. But it wasn't the trees that held her attention.

It was the shadow moving across the lawn-fast, quiet, precise.

Too precise.

She strained to see. The figure paused near the hedge. Then vanished.

Her heart stuttered.

Seconds later, a second figure appeared from the shadows of the veranda. Taller. Broader.

Dante.

He didn't move to pursue. Didn't shout. He simply watched. And then, as if sensing her eyes, he looked up.

Their gazes locked.

He said nothing. Did nothing.

But in the stillness, in the night wind that carried the scent of steel and smoke, Aura finally understood.

The danger was not approaching.

It was already here.