Chapter 21: THE SECRET HEIR HINT
The Gianni estate was a fortress of shadows and glass. Aria had never seen so many chandeliers glowing at once, casting light that somehow made the place feel darker. She stayed close to Luca’s side as they entered, her hand wrapped in his like a lifeline.
But the moment they were ushered into the banquet hall, filled with Gianni heirs and allies, Luca’s grip loosened. His smile, the one he wore like armor, slipped into place. And just like that, she was no longer his lifeline. She was part of his display.
"Stay quiet. Stay behind me," he whispered, low enough for only her to hear.
Her eyes narrowed. "I’m not a vase you set on a table."
"You’re worse. You’re dynamite. And I can’t have you exploding here."
Before she could argue, the Don of the Giannis swept in, his presence commanding. Glasses clinked, voices hushed.
"Luciano Deluca," the man boomed. "You bring a... bride." His eyes slid to Aria, sharp and assessing. "We’ve heard whispers."
"She’s not your concern," Don Lu said flatly.
But Aria felt every pair of eyes in the room drilling into her. Heat crawled up her neck. She wanted to shout that she wasn’t part of their war games, but she held her tongue. Luca had warned her.
Later, much later, she’d regret listening.
After the meal, a tense, knife-sharp affair where every toast felt like a threat, Aria slipped away. Luca was too busy circling Gianni’s lieutenants, his words measured and his charm biting. No one noticed when she wandered down a side hall, chasing air she could breathe.
The corridor was quieter and colder. She leaned against the wall, trying to steady her pulse. That’s when she heard it.
"...you know she’s not his bride at all."
A man’s voice.
Another replied, lower, amused. "Not Deluca’s. No. She’s blood. She doesn’t even know it."
Aria froze. Her ears strained.
"Gianni blood," the second voice continued. "A bastard daughter, hidden away. If Luca knew what she really was, he’d never keep her so close. But we know. And when the time comes, we’ll use her."
Her breath caught, so loud she thought they’d hear it. She pressed herself against the wall, trembling.
"No one tells her," the first voice hissed. "Not yet. Let her play wife. Let Luca think he owns her. That girl is our key. When the war breaks, she’ll tear him apart from the inside."
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Their footsteps drew nearer. She ducked into the nearest door, slipping inside a dark library just as the men passed. Their laughter lingered like poison in the air.
She clutched her chest, fighting for air. Gianni blood? Bastard daughter? No. Her father, the man who’d raised her, was a bookseller. A quiet man, burdened by debts. Not... not this.
The door creaked open.
"Aria?" Don’s voice.
She jumped, spinning toward him. His eyes scanned her face instantly. He could always read her too well.
"What happened?"
"Nothing." The lie broke on her tongue.
He closed the door, stepping closer. "Don’t lie to me. Your hands are shaking."
She pulled away, desperate. "Do you know?"
"Know what?" His tone sharpened.
"That I’m not who I thought I was."
He stilled. "What are you talking about?"
Her laugh was hollow and cracked. "They said I’m Gianni’s blood. That I’m their bastard daughter. That you—" Her voice broke. "That you don’t even know what I am."
His jaw locked. His silence was worse than denial.
"You knew," she whispered.
"No." His answer was fast and firm. Too fast.
"Don’t lie to me, Luca. Please."
"I didn’t know." He stepped forward, his voice low and urgent. "Aria, I swear to you, I didn’t know. If I had"
"If you had what? You’d have left me? Used me? Traded me like a pawn?" Her chest heaved.
"No!" His hand caught her wrist, rough with desperation. "I would have taken you anyway. I don’t care whose blood runs in your veins."
Her eyes burned. "You should care. Because if it’s true, then I’m the enemy. I’m everything you’ve sworn to fight against."
"You’re not the enemy," he growled. "You’re mine."
She shook her head, tears spilling now. "You don’t get it. My father, my whole life, was a lie. I don’t even know who I am anymore."
His grip gentled, his thumb brushing her pulse. "You’re Aria. That’s who you are. The woman who argues with me, who drives me insane, who kisses me like she hates me but comes back anyway. That’s who you are."
Her lips trembled. "And if the Giannis decide to claim me?"
"Then they’ll have to bury me first." His voice was steel. "Because no one, no family, no bloodline, will take you from me."
She wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to. But the words she’d overheard clung to her like thorns.
"Luca," she whispered, broken. "What if I tear you apart without even meaning to?"
His forehead touched hers, his voice a vow in the dark. "Then I’ll burn for you gladly."
That night, lying awake in Luca’s bed, Aria couldn’t escape the echo of the men’s laughter. Blood. Bastard. Key.
She stared at the ceiling, his arm heavy across her waist, his breathing steady beside her.
If she really was Gianni’s blood, then she wasn’t just Luca’s weakness. "She was his greatest threat," she thought to herself, with fear, confusion, and goosebumps driving through her.
And she had no idea which truth would destroy them first, the one she overheard tonight or the one still waiting to surface.
While still lost in thoughts, the wild wind outside blew hard, sending a cold, chilly breeze into the room from the opened window. She got up and closed it and went back to bed. Luca was now awake, and he asked, "Are you okay?" to which she responded with a nod while covering herself with the duvet and folding herself into his arms like a tortoise disappearing into his shell. Luca kissed her and whispered, "Sweet dreams, cara mia."