ARIA'S POV

I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. I should have stayed in the living room, pretending I didn’t care. But the second I heard their low, heated whispers—I couldn’t help myself.

Her voice.

The woman with the diamond ring.

She didn't say anything after her hug with Lorenzo. Just one sharp, lingering look, her icy blue eyes flicking between me and Leo like we were something rotten. Then she grabbed her daughter’s hand, her delicate, manicured fingers wrapped tight—and stormed off.

Now, she wasn’t silent.

“You brought her here?” Her voice was loud and hoarse with anger, but not loud enough for the rest of the house to hear.

I edged closer, heart pounding, holding my breath.

"Let me explain, Isadora!" Lorenzo’s voice boomed, followed by a sharp inhale—like he was barely holding it together.

"Oh, we’re doing full names now?" Her laugh was cold and infuriating. "That’s cute."

"Look, baby, I’m sorry," he tried, voice softer now. "But you’re not even letting me explain. Just listen to me, please."

"I'm listening," she said flatly. "Be quick, or I’m grabbing my daughter and walking out."

I held my breath.

Then he sighed. "I didn’t know she had my child. I swear, Dora, my plan was exactly what I told you—I was going to meet up with her, get her to sign the divorce papers, and then we could finally move forward with the wedding plans."

I sucked in a breath.

Oh.

Well, that stung a little.

So, that was the plan? Get me to sign, marry her, and live happily ever after? If I had told him Leo wasn’t his, he would’ve left me in the dust without looking back.

I didn't know why that hurt, that was what I wanted right?

"Then why didn’t you?" Isadora’s voice was razor-sharp now. "Why couldn’t you just do that, Loren?"

"Because that’s my son!" Lorenzo snapped. "I couldn’t just turn around and leave him!"

"Your son?" she scoffed. "You haven’t even done a DNA test! What if he’s not even yours?"

"He looks like me!"

"Oh, well, that settles it then," she deadpanned, I could imagine her throwing her hands up in frustration, the ring glistening as she glared at him. "Forget science, everyone! We have a resemblance!"

Lorenzo huffed like he was restraining himself.

"You made me get a DNA test before you even accepted your daughter," she reminded him, her voice was almost high pitched now.

Silence. A storm was brewing.

Then Lorenzo, in the lowest, deadliest voice yet, said, "Because you were fucking around, Dora. Unlike Aria—she was a virgin when I married her."

…Well, that escalated quickly.

A breath of silence.

I held mine.

Then, Lorenzo spoke again, quieter now. "You’re being unreasonable, Dora. I just need things to settle down. I’ll get her a place soon—she won’t be here for long."

That must’ve been the final straw because the next sound I heard was the sharp click click click of stilettos storming out of the kitchen.

Then she saw me.

Her icy blue eyes landed on me, scanning me like I was something scraped off the bottom of her Christian Louboutin heels.

"What are you doing here?" she sneered.

And she stepped toward me.

I stepped back. Instinct. Survival. I suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that if I wasn’t quick enough, I’d find myself stuffed into one of those fancy decorative vases.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. What could I even say?

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” she repeated, her voice slow, every letter laced in venom.

I took another step back, my heart hammering. “I—”

I looked around for an escape route, half hoping the ground would do me a favor and swallow me whole. But before I could take another step back, Lorenzo stormed out, took one look at the situation, and grabbed my wrist.

“Come on,” he muttered, his voice tight.

I barely had time to react before he was dragging me through the living room, up the stairs, and straight into the room he’d given Leo and me. The second the door shut behind us, I could feel it, the way his body tensed, how he turned like he was about to let loose on me.

But before he could, I pointed at Leo. He was curled up on the bed, fast asleep, completely unaware of the mess around him.

Lorenzo sucked in a breath, his jaw tight as he stared at me. For a second, I thought he’d go off anyway. But instead, he let out a slow exhale, ran a hand through his hair, and without another word, walked out, shutting the door carefully behind him.

I was drained. Completely, utterly drained. So, I did the only thing that made sense, I curled up beside Leo, hugged him so tight, and let sleep take me.

When I woke up, the room was still, except for the slow steady rise and fall of Leo’s tiny chest. For a moment, I just watched him, breathing in his warmth. Then I groggily shuffled out of bed, rubbing my face as I glanced at the time.

6 p.m.? Seriously?

I sighed, dragging myself into the bathroom. The shower was long, unnecessarily so, but I needed it. I needed to wash off the weight on my shoulders.

When I stepped out, towel wrapped around me, the first thing I noticed was the silence.

And the second?

Leo was gone.

A spike of panic shot through me as I hurried to dress, throwing on a pair of shorts and a tee before practically jogging out of the room. I listened, ears straining—until I heard it.

Laughter.

Leo’s. Light and carefree. Then Lorenzo’s. Then...a little girl’s?

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Right. His daughter.

Leo was fine. He was with them.

I should’ve felt relieved, but instead, something clenched in my chest. Jealousy? I shook it off and made my way outside, needing space.

The garden was quiet, and for the first time in a while, I was alone with my thoughts. A few minutes later, a maid appeared, wordlessly offering me a cup of tea.

"Ma'am," she murmured politely.

I took it without thinking. “Thanks.”

Two sips in, I heard it.

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of expensive heels against stone.

I looked up, and there she was.

Isadora.

She held the hem of her gown in one hand, gliding toward me with the kind of grace that made me wonder—did she always dress like this, or was she coming back from some gala for rich, morally bankrupt women?

Either way, she kept her distance, like standing too close to me would somehow ruin her whole aesthetic.

"I don't know what your deal is," she said smoothly, not even pretending to be civil. "But I’m willing to pay you to disappear again. Name your price."

I actually laughed. "Wow. Straight to the point. Love that."

She just smiled. "So? How much?"

"I don’t need your money."

Her lips twitched, as if she found that amusing. "Is that so? Do you even know he's engaged?" She hummed, staring at her finger again, making sure I saw the huge rock sitting on it.

I tilted my head. "And do you know he's still married to me?"

That did it. For a split second, her face flickered, like I’d cracked her perfect mask. But then, she laughed, a slow, mocking sound that sent a chill down my spine.

She stepped forward, her voice dipping into something silkier, deadlier.

"You’re drinking tea," she mused. "Given to you by a woman you assume is a maid."

Something in her tone made my fingers tighten around the cup.

She smiled. "Makes me wonder how easy it would be to make you disappear with... let's see... Food poisoning? A little overdose on sleeping pills? Or I can even be creative by trying drowning." She chuckled.

My stomach twisted.

The tea suddenly tasted bitter.

I wanted to throw up. Preferably, right onto her designer shoes.