Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Olivia
I slept hard last night. So hard I didn't even dream.
So when the room suddenly flooded with light, and I heard someone pulling back the curtains, I thought it was Carmen. I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow. "Give me a minute."
"Ms. Adrian," the voice wasn't Carmen's, "please get up."
I opened my eyes.
Bianca stood by the window in a cream-colored suit, hair pinned tight, perfectly positioned in the morning light like she'd rehearsed it. Two women I didn't recognize stood behind her in uniforms, heads down, arms full of something.
"What the hell are you doing in my room?" I pushed myself up, voice still thick with sleep, squinting. "Who let you in?"
"Family rules," she said, mouth curving into a smile—the kind that wears politeness like a mask over something rotten. "New women entering the family need to learn proper etiquette. It's tradition. As the future lady of this household, it's my responsibility to instruct you."
I heard her loud and clear.
"Future lady of the household," I repeated, turning the words over, sitting up against the headboard, looking her over. "And whose household would that be?"
Her smile didn't budge. "Ezio's," she said, tone light, like it was already settled. "Of course, I know your position here is... special. That's why I came to help. So you don't embarrass yourself—or him."
I glanced at the two women behind her, then back at her. "Get them out."
Her eyelid twitched. Then she waved them toward the door. It closed. Just the two of us now.
I got out of bed, grabbed a robe from the closet, put it on, and turned around. "I don't need you to teach me a damn thing," I said. "And Bianca, you know exactly what your position is."
Her smile finally dropped.
She stepped closer, voice lowering, shedding that polite veneer entirely. "Listen carefully," she said. "You're here because of Juliet. That's it. Don't get confused about where you stand."
"My position," I said. "You think you know it better than I do?"
"I know Ezio better than you do," she said, every word sharp. "Who he keeps in his heart—you really think you don't know? You think last night meant something? He's had plenty of women in his bed. But the one who stays? That's me."
"Then what are you doing here?" I said. "If you're so sure, why are you in my room saying all this?"
Something flickered in her eyes. Then steadied.
"I'm here to tell you," she said, "quit while you're ahead. Don't make a fool of yourself."
"Let me tell you something, too," I said. "Didn't you say you were pregnant back then? So how come all these years later, still no wedding?"
Her face changed.
"You—"
"You came into my room, opened my curtains, and started this conversation," I said. "Bianca, does that sound like someone who's confident?"
She stared at me, chest rising and falling. Then she spoke. "That baby," she said, voice dropping low, squeezed out between her teeth. "I lost it."
I froze.
"You seduced him, made him look like a fool at his bachelor party—do you know how many people got hurt because of that?
" she went on. "Our wedding was canceled.
My family was humiliated. And during all that.
.." She paused. "I lost the baby because I was kidnapped.
That was the consequence of what you did. "
I stood there. Didn't say a word.
"But it's in the past," she said, her voice regaining strength. "Ezio owes me. He knows it. That's why he tolerates me. Why do you think he lets me stay here? Why hasn't he thrown me out? He feels guilty, Olivia. And that's not something you can replace."
She straightened her collar and turned toward the door. Hand on the handle, she didn't look back. "Think about your situation."
The door opened. Closed.
What the fuck?
I replayed her words. Then again.
Miscarriage. Kidnapping. Guilt.
I knew Ezio's tolerance of Bianca wasn't about feelings. I thought I knew why. But I didn't know this.
I walked to the window, sat in the chair, and pulled my knees to my chest.
Outside, I heard Leo and Juliet's voices. They were in the backyard. Juliet was teaching Leo to jump rope. He tripped after two jumps. Juliet laughed. Leo insisted he just wasn't ready and wanted a do-over.
I listened to those sounds and stared out the window. My head was a mess.
Last night was real. What he said was real.
But what Bianca said—that was real too.
He owed her. He knew it.
Could I replace that kind of guilt?
I didn't know.
After what happened this morning, I spent the whole day distracted.
And what rattled me most—Ezio was gone all day. Elsa explained he was handling urgent family business, but I couldn't stop spiraling.
Bianca showed up, and he disappeared. Was he avoiding Bianca?
Or avoiding me?
Emotions piled up like snow on my chest, crushing me until I couldn't breathe.
God, please. Cut me a break.
After dinner, Carmen took the kids to bathe. The hallway went quiet. I sat in my room without turning on the lights. The sky outside hadn't gone completely dark yet—just a thin line of blue.
Someone knocked.
"Come in."
Ezio pushed the door open, saw me sitting in the dark, paused, and reached for the switch. "Why aren't the lights on?"
"Don't," I said. "I'm thinking."
He pulled his hand back, walked in, sat in the chair across from me, and looked at me. "What's wrong?"
Not a question. A statement. Like he already knew.
I didn't answer right away.
"Olivia," he said. "Elsa told me you were out of it all day. Didn't talk at dinner." He paused. "Did I do something?"
"Not you," I said.
"Then who?"
I looked at him. That line of blue outside was fading. His face was all angles in the dim light, eyes fixed on me, direct, waiting for me to speak.
"Bianca came today," I said. "To my room."
His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes sank. "What did she say?"
"A lot," I said. "That she's the future lady of the household. That she was here to teach me the rules." I paused. "And that she miscarried."
The room went silent. I watched him closely, not missing a single flicker.
"She said you tolerate her because you feel guilty. Because of that baby. Because she was kidnapped because of the fallout between you two."
He still didn't speak.
Neither did I.
The window was cracked open. Cool night air slipped in. For a moment, the only sound was leaves rustling.
"Is it true?" I finally asked.
"It's true," he sighed, rubbing his temples wearily. "Which part do you want to know?"
"All of it," I said, meeting his eyes. "I want to know everything."
He straightened in the chair, elbows on his knees, head down.
After a moment, he spoke. "The night of the bachelor party, I drank," he said.
"A lot. So much I don't remember what happened.
When I woke up, she was naked next to me.
That's it. I don't know if she came on her own or someone arranged it. Still haven't figured it out."
"But the baby was real," I said.
"You know what happened after that," he said. "Photos. Wedding canceled. Problems between the Colonnas and us. Everything tangled up. Someone used the chaos to kidnap her. Tried to leverage her for demands. She was held for three days. When she got out, the baby was gone."
He stopped. Silence.
"I didn't love her," he said. "Not once through any of this. But that baby, and what she went through—that happened because of things connected to me. That's a fact."
"So you feel guilty," I said.
"Yes," he said. "I feel guilty. That's why I've tolerated her these past few years. Even when she crossed more and more lines, I didn't throw her out completely."
I stared at the now-black sky outside. "She came into my room today," I said. "Someone opened the door for her."
"I know," he said. "Already found out who. The person who helped her." He paused. "Tomorrow, I'll handle it."
"How," I said. Not demanding. Really asking.
He looked up at me. "I will," he said. "You don't need to worry about it."
"Ezio," I said. "I'm not asking you to defend me. I want to know how you're going to deal with her."
He looked at me, those eyes deep in the darkness. "What I owed her," he said, "I've paid it back enough these past few years. Juliet was almost scared by her. She came into your room today—those two things are beyond what I can tolerate."
"What she said," I paused. "The miscarriage, the guilt, you tolerating her—do you know what hearing that does to me?"
"I know," he said, voice dropping. "That's why I'm here."
I closed my eyes. Took a deep breath.
"Ezio," I said. "I need you to tell me. Does that guilt still exist?"
"Yes," he said. "But it's not a reason to keep her here anymore." He paused. "I can tell the difference."
I looked at him again. He sat there, didn't lean forward, didn't reach out. Just watched me. Waiting.
"Okay," I finally said. "I hear you."
He nodded, stood, walked to the door, hand on the frame, looked back. "Will you be able to sleep tonight?"
"Don't know," I said. "If I can't, I'll deal with it then."
He looked at me a moment longer. "Door's unlocked," he said. "If you want to talk, come find me."
Then he left.
The hallway light stretched his shadow, then it disappeared.
I sat in the chair a long time, listening to the night. The manor was quiet. Occasionally, wind slipped through the window crack, moved the curtains, then went still again.
I wouldn't forget everything she said.
But I wouldn't forget what he said either.
The next morning, I was in the dining room checking Leo's backpack when I heard noise in the hallway.
When Bianca walked in, those two women from yesterday followed behind her. She wore that familiar expression, like she was here to finish what she'd started yesterday.
She saw me, stopped, mouth twitching. "Olivia, what I said yesterday, I hope you'll consider—"
"Bianca."
Ezio's voice came from down the hall.
He walked in, still in his suit, folder in hand, but stopped at the dining room doorway, looked at Bianca. His eyes were the flattest I'd ever seen them—flat with no ripples, no room for negotiation.
Juliet looked up from her chair, then dropped her head, pretending to study her plate. Leo sat next to me, didn't understand what was happening but felt the tension, went quiet, grabbed my hand.
"Ezio," Bianca said, putting on that practiced smile, soft at the edges. "I was just coming to—"
"You went into Olivia's room yesterday," he said, voice not loud but clear. "In my house. You entered my woman's room and said those things."
"I just wanted to help her understand the rules—"
"Bianca," he cut her off. "I'm only saying this once."
She stopped.
"You're leaving today. Take everything with you," he said. "I'll have someone prepare a sum of money. Call it severance for these years. I'll speak to the Colonnas, make sure you don't go back to any trouble. But your place in this house, as of today, is over."
The dining room went silent.
Bianca stood there, face draining of color. "Ezio, what are you saying? I-I thought we had—"
"We don't have what you think we do," he said. "You know it. I know it. No need to spell it out here."
"That baby—" Her voice caught. "Ezio, that baby—"
"I know," he said. Something in his voice sank, but didn't soften. "My tolerance these past few years was because of that. But Bianca, the debt's paid."
Bianca glanced at me. Her look held a lot—anger, hurt, and that kind of desperate edge that comes with defeat. But in the end, she said nothing. Turned and left.
Her footsteps faded down the hall. Then disappeared.
The dining room stayed quiet for a moment.
Juliet lifted her head, looked at Ezio, then at me. Then silently picked up her fork and went back to her eggs.
Leo leaned into me, whispered, "Did that lady leave?"
"She left," I said, looking down, smoothing his cowlick. "Eat your breakfast."
"Okay," he said, then turned to Ezio and held up his fork. "Ezio, these eggs are really good today!"
Ezio walked into the dining room and sat across from Leo. "Yeah?"
"Yep," Leo said, nodding seriously. "Better than yesterday."
"I'll tell the kitchen to make them this way from now on," Ezio said.
"Good idea," Leo said, satisfied, and went back to his eggs.
I looked up. Ezio looked back. Our eyes met across the table.
I didn't say anything. Neither did he. But I saw that line at the corner of his mouth relax a little.
I looked down and took a sip of tea.
Sunlight came through the window and made a warm square on the dining room floor. Leo's fork clinked against his plate. Juliet asked Leo if he wanted to see the cats in the backyard later. Leo said yes, but he had to finish breakfast first.
Everything felt ordinary.
So ordinary it was like yesterday never happened.
But I knew it did. And I knew what this morning meant.
I set my teacup down, pressed my palm against the side, felt the warmth slowly fading.