Chapter 40: THE GREEN FLAME OF JEALOUSY
The days following Isabella’s return felt like walking across thin ice. Even when the mansion was quiet, even when laughter tried to seep into the halls, the weight of her presence lingered like smoke after a fire. Aria tried to convince herself that Isabella’s visit had been nothing more than a passing storm, but she could still hear her words, still feel the sharpness of her gaze. This woman wasn’t gone. She was circling, waiting, looking for cracks to widen.
Aria noticed the subtle changes in Luca first. He was present, attentive, but guarded in ways he hadn’t been before. His phone calls lasted longer, his late-night meetings more frequent, and though he told her everything was under control, she couldn’t shake the feeling that lsabella’s shadow was stitched into every silence between them.
One evening, while the staff prepared for an upcoming charity gala that the Don was expected to attend, Aria found herself wandering into the main hall. Luca was standing near the grand staircase, speaking quietly to his right-hand man, Lorenzo. His tone was low, clipped, and though Aria couldn’t hear the words, she could feel the tension coil in her chest.
Then she saw her.
Isabella.
She had returned, not in secret this time but bold as ever, gliding into the hall as though she had never been banished. Dressed in a silk gown that clung to her like water, she smiled as though the house still belonged to her.
"Luciano," she purred, her voice carrying too easily. "I thought I’d stop by. After all, old friends should never stay apart too long."
Luca stiffened. Lorenzo’s hand twitched as though ready to draw his weapon, but Luca lifted a hand to still him. His jaw tightened as he turned toward her.
"Isabella," he said, his voice a warning.
Aria froze in place, partially hidden by one of the carved columns, her heart hammering. She didn’t want to watch, didn’t want to hear, but she couldn’t walk away.
Isabella’s eyes flicked in Aria’s direction deliberately and knowingly before returning to Luca. "You’ve redecorated," she said, her gaze sweeping the room. "But I still remember the way it felt when I walked through this hall, your hand on mine."
Aria’s stomach dropped.
Luca’s face betrayed nothing, but his silence was heavy.
Isabella moved closer, her perfume trailing behind her like a spell. "Tell me, Luca. Does she know the man you really are? Or is she still looking at you like you’re the savior she’s been waiting for?"
Aria’s breath caught. The sting of jealousy burned hot in her veins. She wanted to step out, to demand answers, but her feet felt nailed to the floor.
Luca finally spoke, his voice low and firm. "You’re overstepping."
"Am I?" Isabella’s lips curved. "Or are you just afraid she’ll learn what I already know?"
It was too much. Aria couldn’t stand in the shadows any longer. She stepped forward, her chin lifted though her chest trembled. "I know enough," she said, her voice cutting into the space like glass.
Both turned toward her. Luca’s eyes flickered, surprise flashing before his usual control returned. Isabella, however, looked delighted, her smile widening like a predator catching scent of prey.
"Ah, there she is," Isabella murmured. "The wife. How quaint."
Aria’s hands clenched at her sides. "You don’t belong here. Whatever you had with him is over. Stop pretending otherwise."
Isabella tilted her head, as though considering her. "Brave words. But tell me, dear, do you really think he’s over me? Or do you just hope he is?"
The words struck deep, sharper than a knife. Aria’s throat tightened, but she refused to let Isabella see her falter. "You can try to crawl back into his life all you want, but you’ll never replace me."
Luca stepped forward then, his voice harsh. "Enough, Isabella. Get out before I make you."
Isabella only laughed, a sound dripping with mockery. "You always did hate being reminded of your own past. Fine. I’ll go. But remember this, Luca, men like you can never run from the women who made them."
With that, she turned, her heels striking against the marble as she swept out, leaving silence and tension in her wake.
Aria’s chest heaved, her heart a drumbeat of anger and doubt. She turned on Luca, her voice trembling. "Why didn’t you tell me she’d come back again? Why keep me in the dark?"
He stared at her, his eyes dark, conflicted. "Because I didn’t want to give her power over you. Over us."
"That’s not your choice to make," Aria shot back, tears burning in her eyes. "You think protecting me means hiding the truth, but all it does is make me wonder what else you’re not telling me."
Luca stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, his voice low. "I’m telling you now. She’s nothing. She’s a ghost from a past I’ve buried. You are my present. My future. Don’t let her poison you."
But Aria couldn’t shake the jealousy coiling inside her. The way Isabella had spoken, the confidence in her tone, the certainty that Luca’s heart wasn’t as untouchable as he claimed. It gnawed at her, whispering doubts even as she wanted to believe him.
That night, as they sat together in their room, silence stretched between them like a gulf. Aria sat by the window, staring at the dark garden below, while Luca leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, watching her.
Finally, he broke the silence. "You’re angry with me."
"I’m jealous," Aria admitted softly, her voice trembling. "I hate that she can walk in here and act like she still has a claim. I hate that she knows parts of you I don’t. And I hate that she can get under my skin so easily."
Luca pushed away from the wall, crossing the room in measured steps. He stopped in front of her, tilting her chin up until her eyes met his. His gaze was steady, unwavering. "Jealousy means you care. But understand this, I’ve chosen you. Whatever she says, whatever she does, it doesn’t change that."
Aria blinked back tears. "Then prove it. Don’t just tell me she’s nothing, show me."
His lips brushed against her forehead, a touch both tender and grounding. "I will," he promised, his voice rough. "I’ll never let her or anyone, come between us."
For a moment, the storm in her heart quieted, soothed by the certainty in his tone. But deep down, Aria knew the battle wasn’t over. Isabella wasn’t gone. She was waiting, watching, and every step forward with Luca would be tested by the green flame of jealousy she had ignited.
And Aria, for all her resolve, wasn’t sure how long she could keep that flame from burning her alive.