Lorenzo stood by the door, his voice calm but firm.
"Get dressed, Alessia. We're going out."
She blinked, caught off guard. "Where?"
He didn't answer, just gave her that quiet, unreadable look that always made her heart skip. For the first time in days, she smiled, rushing to her room to pick something decent. She brushed her hair, her hands trembling with excitement. She didn't know why she felt so happy—maybe because being near him made her forget everything else.
When she came out, ready, he was already waiting beside the car.
Her heart fluttered again. She slipped in beside him, still smiling… until the road began to look familiar.
"Lorenzo… where are we going?" she asked softly.
He didn't look at her. "You'll see."
And then her smile faded when the car stopped in front of her father's mansion.
She froze. Her chest tightened. She hadn't seen this place since everything fell apart.
Her father's men rushed forward, guns raised the second they recognized Lorenzo. But he didn't flinch. He didn't even try to reach for his weapon. He stood there, calm and fearless, while she stepped out behind him.
"Dad!" she called, her voice trembling.
Her father appeared, shock flooding his face when he saw her. "Alessia?"
She ran to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. For a brief moment, she was his little girl again.
Then his voice hardened. "What are you doing with him?"
She stepped back, confused. "What do you mean? I thought you knew I was with him."
Her father frowned. "What are you talking about? I've been looking for you everywhere!"
She turned to Lorenzo, confusion in her eyes. He met her gaze for a long second, then sighed quietly.
"I lied," he said softly. "I told you your father knew… I didn't want you to panic."
For a moment, she just stared at him. She should've been angry. But all she felt was a strange ache in her chest. "You lied… but you still protected me," she whispered.
Before she could say more, her father's voice roared across the courtyard.
"Men, aim!"
"No!" she screamed. "He didn't do anything wrong!"
But her father wouldn't listen.
The shot echoed before she could reach him.
Lorenzo stumbled backward, pain flashing across his face before he fell.
"Lorenzo!" she screamed, running to him, dropping to her knees beside his body. Her hands shook as she tried to stop the bleeding, tears streaming down her face. "Dad, stop it! Please, stop!"
Her father stood frozen, horror washing over him as he watched his daughter cry over the man he saw as an enemy.
"Dad," she sobbed, "what have you done? He didn't hurt me. He saved me! He protected me!"
Her voice broke as she turned to the guards. "Help me carry him! Please!"
They hesitated—but obeyed. Together, they carried Lorenzo inside, into her room.
She sat beside him, gently cleaning the blood from his shirt, whispering through her tears.
"Please, Lorenzo, wake up. You can't leave me like this."
Her father called from the hallway, his voice tight with confusion.
"Alessia… what is happening to you?"
She looked up at him, her eyes red but full of determination.
"You want the truth, Father? The flowers, the gifts, the little dog—it was all from him. The man you hate is the one who made me smile again. And I'm sorry… but I can't stop these feelings."
Her father stared at her in silence, torn between fury and disbelief—while she sat beside the enemy's son, holding his hand as if she would never let go.