Chapter 3
Sofia's POV
I didn’t move, didn’t even blink, as Alessandro’s words settled in.
“I should get back to work,” I finally said, trying to keep my tone light, like my pulse wasn’t hammering in my ears.
Alessandro didn’t step aside right away. His eyes swept over me, unreadable, as though he was taking inventory of something only he understood. Then, just as I was about to shove past him, his mouth curved into something dangerously close to a smile.
“Be careful in this house, Sofia,” he said. “Not everything is what it seems.”
I slipped past him before I could ask what he meant. The door closed behind me, and I didn’t stop moving until I was back in the laundry room. I dumped the basket onto the counter, my hands still tight around the handle, trying to breathe.
It had been less than a week and already the Moretti mansion was starting to feel like a trap—its gold-trimmed hallways just as much a cage as steel bars. And both brothers…
No. I couldn’t go there. I had come here for a paycheck, not to get tangled up in old wounds and new danger.
I buried myself in work for the rest of the afternoon, scrubbing floors until my knees ached, polishing silver until I could see my face in it. By the time I made it to the staff kitchen for dinner, my hands were raw and my back ached.
The other maids were already seated, their voices low as they passed bread and soup. Conversations in this house always had that undercurrent—like everyone was afraid the walls had ears.
I had just sat down when a shadow fell across the table.
“Sofia.”
I looked up. Luca stood in the doorway, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves still rolled to his elbows. His gaze was locked on me, and he didn’t even glance at the others.
“Come with me.”
“I’m eating,” I said, reaching for my spoon.
“You can eat later,” he replied. His tone was calm, but it left no room for argument.
Marta, one of the older maids, shot me a warning look. Don’t push it, her eyes said.
With a sigh, I stood and followed him out. He led me down the hall, up a short set of stairs, and into a room I’d never been in before.
It was an office, all dark wood and leather, the scent of expensive whiskey hanging in the air. The blinds were drawn, shutting out the night. Luca closed the door behind us and leaned against it.
“Why was my brother in my room with you?”
The question was direct, sharp enough to make me blink. “He came in while I was cleaning. We talked for a minute, that’s all.”
His jaw tightened. “About what?”
I folded my arms. “None of your business.”
“Everything that happens in my house is my business,” he said. “And you are in my house.”
“I’m not your possession,” I snapped before I could stop myself.
He pushed off the door, closing the distance between us in a few measured steps. “You were mine once. You think that means nothing?”
“It was years ago,” I said. “We were stupid and young—”
“Speak for yourself,” he cut in.
I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “I’m here to work, Luca. That’s it.”
His eyes searched mine, as if he was trying to read the parts of me I didn’t want to share. “Then why do you look at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying not to remember.”
Heat crept up my neck, but I didn’t answer. I turned away, pretending to examine the bookshelves lining one wall.
His voice was closer when he spoke again. “My brother doesn’t talk to the staff. He doesn’t even notice them. But he noticed you.”
I shrugged, still facing the shelves. “Maybe he’s just being polite.”
“Alessandro is never polite without a reason.”
Something in his tone made me turn back. “And what’s your reason, Luca? Why do you keep following me, assigning me to your room, dragging me in here?”
He stepped closer, close enough that the faint scent of his cologne curled through my senses. “Because you left me without an answer. And I don’t like unfinished business.”
For a moment, we just stood there, the air between us thick enough to choke on. My heart was beating too fast, and I hated that he could probably tell.
“You’re making a mistake,” I said finally.
He tilted his head. “Maybe. But I’ll decide that for myself.”
He reached past me, pulling a small box from the bookshelf. When he opened it, I saw a thin chain with a silver pendant inside.
My chest tightened. I knew that necklace. I’d worn it the night I left him.
“You kept this?” I asked, my voice lower than I intended.
His gaze stayed on mine. “I told you, I don’t throw things away easily.”
I wanted to ask why. I wanted to tell him to throw it away, to stop holding onto pieces of me I couldn’t give him. But my throat felt tight, and the words wouldn’t come.
The door opened suddenly, and Alessandro stepped in without knocking.
Luca’s eyes narrowed. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” Alessandro said smoothly, his gaze flicking from me to the necklace and back again. “I just came to let you know the west wing is ready.”
Something unspoken passed between them, and I felt caught in the middle of it.
Luca closed the box and set it back on the shelf. “We’re done here,” he said to me, his tone final.
I didn’t need telling twice. I slipped out past Alessandro, my heart still pounding.
The hallway outside felt cooler, quieter, but it didn’t ease the knot in my stomach. I started back toward the staff quarters, my mind spinning.
Halfway there, I heard footsteps behind me.
“Wait,” Alessandro’s voice called.
I stopped, turning slowly. He was a few steps away, hands in his pockets, that unreadable expression on his face.
“You really should be careful,” he said.
I crossed my arms. “I’m already careful.”
“Not careful enough,” he replied. His eyes held mine for a moment before drifting lower, as if he was cataloging every detail. “Luca isn’t the only one with unfinished business.”
Before I could ask what that meant, he stepped closer, close enough that the faint scent of his aftershave cut through the cool air.
“I’m not my brother,” he said softly. “If I wanted you, I wouldn’t chase you. I’d just take you.”
My breath caught, and he smiled faintly, as if he’d won something.
“Goodnight, Sofia,” he murmured, before walking away.
I stood there for a long moment, my pulse thrumming in my ears, knowing one thing for sure.
Whatever I’d stepped into here, it wasn’t just between me and Luca anymore.
And that realization was the most dangerous thing of all.