The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of the De Luca mansion as Isabella stood in the grand foyer. Her hands trembled slightly at her sides as Matteo paced in front of her, his expensive leather shoes clicking against the marble floor.
"Pay attention," Matteo said, his voice sharp and cold. "I won't repeat myself."
Isabella nodded quickly, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor.
"First rule: You don't leave these grounds. Ever. The gates stay locked, and the guards have orders to stop you if you try." He stopped pacing and faced her directly. "Second rule: No phone calls. No contact with the outside world. As far as anyone knows, you don't exist."
Her heart sank, but she managed another nod.
"Third rule: You do exactly what you're told, when you're told. No questions. No complaints." His dark eyes studied her face. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Isabella whispered.
"Good." Matteo turned toward the stairs. "Mrs. Russo will show you around and explain your duties."
As if summoned by her name, an older woman appeared from a side hallway. She had kind eyes and graying hair pulled back in a neat bun. Her smile was warm, completely different from Matteo's cold demeanor.
"Come along, dear," Mrs. Russo said gently, taking Isabella's arm. "Let's get you settled."
They walked through the mansion's winding corridors. Isabella's eyes widened at the expensive paintings and sculptures that decorated every wall and corner.
"The master can seem harsh," Mrs. Russo said quietly, "but he's had a difficult life."
Isabella glanced at the older woman. Something flickered in Mrs. Russo's eyes when she looked at her, like recognition.
"Have we met before?" Isabella asked.
Mrs. Russo paused, studying Isabella's face carefully. "You have your mother's eyes," she murmured, so softly Isabella almost missed it.
"My mother?" But Mrs. Russo had already continued walking. "Your room is this way. It's small but comfortable."
They climbed a narrow staircase to the third floor. The hallway here was simpler, clearly the servants' quarters. Yesterday she stayed in an upgraded servant room for high ranking staff. It seems Matteo had a change of heart and Decided to change her room. Mrs. Russo opened a door to reveal a modest room with a single bed, a small desk, and a window overlooking the gardens.
"Breakfast is at six, lunch at noon, dinner at seven," Mrs. Russo explained. "You'll help with cleaning and serving. Stay out of the master's office and his bedroom unless specifically told to enter."
Isabella sat on the bed, testing the mattress. It was better than the hard cot she'd slept on at the loan shark's place.
"Mrs. Russo?" Isabella called as the woman headed for the door. "Why did you say I have my mother's eyes?"
The housekeeper's hand froze on the doorknob. "Get some rest, child. Tomorrow will be a long day."
Later that afternoon, Isabella found herself alone in the mansion's main hallway. Matteo had left for business, and Mrs. Russo was busy in the kitchen. The curiosity that had been building inside her finally won over her fear.
She wandered through the rooms, amazed by the luxury. Crystal chandeliers hung from painted ceilings. Persian rugs covered polished floors. Everything screamed of money and power.
Isabella found herself in front of a large oak door. She knew she shouldn't, but her hand reached for the handle anyway.
"Planning to steal something?"
Isabella spun around, her heart jumping into her throat. The young man who accompanied Matteo to Mr Vincenzo house leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. He looked like Matteo but younger, now looking at him closely he had lighter hair and laughing eyes.
"I... I wasn't..." Isabella stammered.
"Relax, Little Mouse," the man said, pushing off the wall. "I'm just messing with you. I'm Luca, Matteo's devastatingly handsome younger brother."
Isabella blinked at him. "Little Mouse?"
"You're tiny and you scurry around like you're afraid of cats." Luca grinned. "Plus, you just tried to sneak into my brother's study. Very mouse-like behavior."
"I was just looking around," Isabella said defensively.
"Sure you were." Luca walked closer, circling her like a predator. "So you're the girl who's got my big brother all twisted up."
"Twisted up?"
"Oh, you haven't noticed? The way he looks at you? Like he can't decide if he wants to protect you or lock you in a tower." Luca laughed. "It's actually pretty funny."
Isabella felt heat rise in her cheeks. "He doesn't look at me any particular way."
"Right." Luca's grin widened. "And I'm the Pope."
Dinner time arrived faster than Isabella expected. Mrs. Russo had given her a simple black dress and white apron, the typical servant's uniform. Isabella's hands shook as she carried the wine bottle toward the dining room.
Matteo sat at the head of the long table, with Luca to his right. Both brothers wore expensive suits and looked perfectly at ease in the formal setting.
"Wine, sir?" Isabella asked quietly, approaching Matteo first.
"Please," he said without looking up from his plate. Isabella poured carefully, proud that her hands stayed steady. She moved to Luca next.
"So, Little Mouse," Luca said loudly, "how are you finding your stay in our humble home?"
"Luca," Matteo's voice carried a warning.
"What? I'm just being friendly." Luca winked at Isabella. "We don't get many pretty houseguests."
Isabella's face burned. She tilted the bottle to pour, but Luca moved his glass at the last second. Red wine splashed across his white shirt.
"Oh no!" Isabella gasped, setting the bottle down quickly. "I'm so sorry!"
Luca looked down at his shirt, then slowly stood up. "You've wounded me!" he declared dramatically, clutching his chest. "I'm bleeding wine!"
"I'll get something to clean it!" Isabella rushed toward the kitchen.
"No, no," Luca called after her, staggering around the table like he was dying. "Tell my family I loved them! Tell them I died bravely!" Isabella stopped and stared at him. Despite her panic, a giggle escaped her lips.
"Luca, sit down before you hurt yourself," Matteo said, but Isabella caught something in his voice. Annoyance? Jealousy?
"You're laughing at me in my final moments!" Luca collapsed dramatically into his chair. "How heartless!"
Isabella covered her mouth, but the giggles kept coming. She couldn't help it. Luca was ridiculous.
Matteo's eyes found hers across the room. For a moment, something passed between them. Something warm and unexpected. Then his expression hardened again.
"Clean up the mess," he said coldly. "And be more careful next time." Isabella's laughter died. "Yes, sir."
As she knelt to wipe up the spilled wine, she felt eyes on her. When she looked up, Matteo was staring at her with an expression she couldn't read.
"Isabella," he said quietly, his voice different somehow. "What's your last name?" The question came out of nowhere. Isabella blinked, confused. "Rossi, sir. Like my adoptive parents."
"And before that?"
"I... I don't remember. I was very young when they took me in." Matteo leaned forward, his dark eyes intense. "Think harder. What was your name before Rossi?"
Isabella's heart started beating faster. Why was he asking this? "I really don't know, sir."
Luca looked between them, his playful mood gone. "Matteo, what's going on?"
But Matteo ignored his brother, still staring at Isabella. "Your parents never told you anything about where you came from? Nothing at all?"
Isabella shook her head, feeling suddenly cold. "No, sir. Nothing." Matteo stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. Without another word, he walked out of the dining room.
Isabella remained kneeling on the floor, cloth in hand, wondering why she felt like her world had just shifted underneath her.