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"I don't know. I've never been in love before. But...I care about him. I want him to be safe, and happy." I sat down on the bench. "That's why I let him go, Sofia. If Lorenzo found out I'd been seeing him, he would kill Alfie without a second thought."
I looked up at the mansion. On the west side, overlooking the pool house and the manicured gardens, Lorenzo was standing in the window, watching us. Light glinted off the glass in his hand as he raised it to take a drink.
My stomach lurched. Had he heard any of our conversation? Did he suspect anything? I was too far away to tell.
"What's wrong?" Sofia followed my gaze up to the mansion.
"Nothing." I shook my head and forced myself to smile. "I'm just tired. I think I'll head inside and take a shower."
I gave Sofia a hug and then headed back into the house. Unease fluttered in my stomach. I couldn't stop thinking about all the times I'd looked up and caught Lorenzo watching me from the window. It had always felt like a protector watching over his ward. This felt different.
Then again, I'd never had anything to hide, before. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn't even hear Lorenzo's office door open.
"Emilia. Do you have a moment?"
My heart leapt in my throat. "Of course."
Lorenzo smiled, but the look in his eyes made me shiver. I stepped into his office, and he closed the door behind me with a soft click.
"What did you need?" I asked.
Lorenzo walked past me to his desk and set his glass down. "Sit."
The command was soft, but there was no mistaking it for anything less than what it was. I swallowed and sat down in one of the chairs facing the desk.
"What is it, Lorenzo?"
"How are you doing, Emilia?" His dark eyes were unreadable.
"I'm fine."
"Good.” He settled down in his chair and swirled the amber liquid in his glass. "We haven't had much time to talk lately. I've been...preoccupied with business."
"I've been keeping busy. I don't mean to worry you." I shifted in my seat. The sun had dipped low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over Lorenzo's lavish study. I perched on the edge of a plush armchair and traced the intricate pattern stitched into the upholstery. The room was filled with the faint scent of cigars and well-aged bourbon, a mixture that reminded me of my father.
"You know you can always come to me if you need anything, don't you?" Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, swirling his glass of bourbon. "I realize you don't like to ask for help, but you can, Emilia."
"And I'm grateful for everything you've done for me," I said.
"Good." Lorenzo seemed pleased. He withdrew a small box from his desk and pushed it across the surface towards me, letting his finger linger on the top. "I have something for you. This belonged to your mother."
My heart skipped a beat as I took the box from him, my fingertips brushing against his warm skin. I hesitated for amoment, the box weighing heavily in my hands. When I finally opened it, I felt a wave of emotions crash over me.
Inside lay a delicate ruby necklace, its pendant adorned with an intricately carved rose surrounded by tiny diamonds. At the center of the rose sat a large ruby that seemed to sparkle with a thousand secrets. It was the sort of jewelry that only someone like Lorenzo could afford – or would dare to gift.
"Your mother used to wear it all the time," Lorenzo explained, leaning back in his chair. "She always said it brought her luck."
As the last rays of sunlight played across the diamond against a sudden surge of nostalgia. The necklace was so familiar, yet so distant – like a memory hidden just beneath the surface. My mother had worn this very piece before she died, and now it lay in my hands, a tangible reminder of our bond.
"Thank you," I murmured. The words seemed inadequate, but I couldn't find any others to express the maelstrom of emotions inside me. Gratitude, yes, but there was also a flicker of apprehension churning in my stomach. Why was Lorenzo giving me this now?
"Put it on," he urged, watching me intently.
I obliged, fastening the clasp behind my neck. The metal was cool against my skin, and I couldn't help but shiver as I felt my mother's presence settle around me.
"Beautiful," Lorenzo murmured, his eyes never leaving me. "Just like her. It suits you. You look so much like your mother when she wore it."
"Thank you," I replied cautiously, unsure of how to interpret his words. There was a strange intensity in his eyes that I couldn't quite place, making me feel both flattered and uneasy at the same time.
