Chapter 9 DANGEROUS APPEARANCES

The Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II had never glittered more fiercely.

Beneath its domed glass ceiling, Milan's most powerful figures moved like stars in orbit-politicians, tycoons, royalty by title or wallet. Champagne flutes sparkled. Violins soared. And at the center of it all, walked Lucia Moretti-De Luca, draped in emerald silk.

She moved like she belonged. But she still felt like she didn't.

"Smile," Matteo murmured beside her. "Or they'll eat you alive."

"I'm trying," she said through clenched teeth.

He leaned closer, the heat of his breath brushing her ear. "Don't try. Own it."

Lucia's pulse skipped. It wasn't just the nearness. It was the power in his voice-the way he made it feel like she could do anything, conquer anyone, if she stood beside him.

As they reached the center of the marble floor, cameras flashed. Heads turned. Murmurs sparked.

It was working.

Until Carla appeared.

Clad in crimson satin, she looked like a flame made flesh. Her smile was weaponized. Her approach, calculated.

"Lucia," she said sweetly, air-kissing the air beside her cheek. "You look... expensive. Matteo always did have a talent for dressing up his toys."

Lucia's jaw tensed.

Matteo moved as if to speak, but Lucia stepped forward-eyes locked on Carla's like daggers.

"Thank you," Lucia replied smoothly. "And you look... desperate. Red's a bold choice when you've just been publicly dropped from the De Luca board."

Gasps nearby. Someone choked on their wine.

Carla's smile faltered.

Lucia leaned in. "I would've worn black. Mourning suits you."

Carla's mask cracked-just for a second. Then she turned sharply and vanished into the crowd.

Matteo's low chuckle warmed Lucia's spine.

"Impressive," he said.

She exhaled. "I'm shaking."

He offered his arm. "Then hold on to me."

After the Flames

Later that night, the limo ride home was thick with silence and shadows.

Lucia stared out the window, her reflection split by city lights. "I still feel like they're waiting for me to trip."

"They are," Matteo said. "But you won't."

"You sound certain."

"I watched you gut Carla without raising your voice. You're a queen, Lucia. They just haven't figured it out yet."

Her heart stuttered.

"You don't have to flatter me," she said quietly.

He looked over. "I'm not."

The limo stopped at the villa. But neither of them moved.

Matteo leaned forward. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

Secrets Behind Locked Doors

He led her through the dim corridors of the De Luca estate, past libraries and courtyards and wings she hadn't seen yet.

They stopped in front of a steel door.

Matteo pressed his thumb to a biometric scanner. A soft hiss. The door opened.

Inside was a private office-sleek, modern, untouched by time.

Lucia stepped in slowly.

"I didn't know this was here," she whispered.

"You weren't supposed to," Matteo said. "This is where I do the things I can't afford to let anyone else see."

He walked to a black glass panel and tapped it awake. A map of Europe blinked into view, dotted with markers. Files. Surveillance feeds. Names.

Lucia turned to him, frowning. "What is this?"

"A ghost network," Matteo said. "I've been tracking board leaks, financial sabotage. Someone's been playing both sides-Carla was just a pawn."

Lucia's blood cooled. "So who's behind it?"

"I don't know yet. But I'm close." He looked at her. "And I'm telling you because I trust you."

She swallowed. "Why me?"

"Because you've seen who I am. And you're still here."

They stared at each other-too long, too quiet.

The space between them pulled tight.

Lucia stepped closer. Matteo didn't back away.

"Matteo," she whispered. "Are we still pretending?"

His breath hitched. "I don't know."

She touched his chest-lightly, fingers grazing the fabric over his heart.

His hand closed over hers. Slowly. Firmly.

Then he took a step back.

"No," he said, voice hoarse. "Not tonight."

Lucia's throat tightened. "Why?"

"Because I want it too much."

She nodded once.

Then turned, and walked away.

He didn't stop her.

A Trail of Smoke

The next morning, Lucia stood on the balcony with a cup of coffee, trying to forget the heat in Matteo's eyes.

Below, the garden was waking-sunlight catching the dew, birds rising.

She didn't turn when he stepped beside her.

"Good morning," he said quietly.

"You didn't sleep."

"I watched the security feeds all night. Carla met someone after the gala. Someone she's scared of."

Lucia frowned. "Who?"

"She called him 'Il Sarto'-The Tailor. A codename. I'm tracing it now."

"What does he want?"

Matteo looked at her. "Me. The company. You."

Lucia set her coffee down slowly.

"I'm going to a board member's villa this afternoon," he said. "I need you to come with me. As my wife. As my partner."

She turned to him.

"Are you asking me to play a role?"

"No," he said. "I'm asking you to be exactly who you are. And stand beside me."