🌘 Chapter Ten — The Truth That Hunts

🌘 Chapter Ten — The Truth That Hunts
The morning light did nothing to soften the weight in Bella’s chest.

She woke with the taste of fear still clinging to her tongue.

Pale sunlight slipped through the curtains, gentle and deceptive, as if the night hadn’t nearly torn her apart. Her head throbbed with a dull insistence — not quite pain, more like pressure — the unsettling sensation of something inside her pushing outward, demanding space.

Bella sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders tense, eyes drawn to her wrist.

A bruise had bloomed there overnight.

Finger-shaped.
Unmistakable.

Her breath caught.

Proof that last night hadn’t been a dream. Proof that her body had reacted — responded — to a man her mind still refused to place, to trust, to understand.

Slowly, she lifted her hand and pressed her fingers to the mark.

The memory hit without warning.

Nico’s hand.

Firm. Steady.
Holding her like she might come apart if he loosened his grip even for a second.

Bella jerked her hand back as if burned, her pulse racing.

Enough.

She stood abruptly, resolve cutting through the lingering fear. Running hadn’t helped. Pretending hadn’t helped. Whatever was happening inside her wasn’t slowing down — it was accelerating.

And Nico Ricci stood at the centre of it.

She dressed quickly, movements sharp and purposeful, refusing to give doubt the chance to sink its teeth into her again. Then she left her room, closing the door behind her with quiet finality.

This time, she wasn’t going to look away.

Whatever the truth was — whatever she had lost — she was done letting it chase her.

She was going to confront it.

She found him in the private garden behind the estate—alone, standing beneath the old stone archway, phone in hand.

For a second, she almost turned back.

Then he spoke into the device, voice low and urgent.

“She’s remembering faster now.”

Bella froze.

“I know,” he continued. “But pushing her will make it worse. We must slow this down.”

A pause.

“No,” Nico said sharply. “I won’t risk her.”

The call ended.

Bella stepped forward.

“What won’t you risk?”

He turned instantly, composure snapping into place—but not fast enough to hide the flicker of fear in his eyes.

“How much did you hear?” he asked.

“Enough,” she said coldly. “Start talking.”

He studied her face like he was bracing for impact.

“You fainted yesterday,” he said carefully. “You should be resting.”

“You knew,” she snapped. “You knew before I told anyone. You knew I saw the doctor. You knew I was losing control—and you didn’t say a word.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“From what?” she demanded. “From myself?”

His jaw tightened.

“From the truth,” he said quietly.

That word hit harder than any lie.

She stepped closer. “Why do you talk to me like you’ve lost me before? Why do you look at me like I’m a ghost?”

“I hear voices,” she said. “I see things. I remember you—touching me, holding me, begging me not to leave. And then I wake up and everyone pretends I’m fragile instead of furious.”

Silence stretched.

Her breath shook. “What happened to me, Nico?”

His restraint cracked.

“If you remember too fast,” he said hoarsely, “it will destroy you.”

She laughed bitterly. “That’s not an answer.”

She stepped closer, eyes blazing.

His throat worked.

“It’s the only one I’m allowed to give. Because you are standing on the edge of something dangerous,” he said. “And you don’t see it.”

“Then tell me,” She demanded. “Tell me what happened to me.”

Nico took a step back.

That hurt more than any lie.

“I can’t,” he said.

Her hands curled into fist. “You won’t.”

“If I tell you too much---”

“I’m already breaking,” she interrupted. “You don’t get to decide how much more I can take.”

For a moment, something raw slipped through his control.

“You think I want this?” he said quietly. “Watching you tear yourself apart? Every instinct in me wants to pull you close and tell you everything. But if I do---”

His voice dropped.

“You might not survive it.”

The world tilted.

The anger surged too fast.

Her vision blurred.

Bella swayed, dizziness crashing into her without warning. The garden blurred, sounds distorting. She gasped, clutching her head—and suddenly he was there, arms around her, catching her before she hit the stone path.

Her body folded into his like it belonged there.

Her forehead pressed to his chest.

Another flash—

A ring sliding onto her finger.
His voice whispering wife like a vow and a plea.

Bella gasped and shoved him away.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered, terrified---not of him, but of what her body remembered when he did. “You make it worse.”

Nico looked like she’d stabbed him. He let her go immediately, hands raised.

“I know,” he said. “And that’s why I keep my distance.”

She stared at him, trembling.

Then she turned and walked away.

She didn’t see the figure watching from the tree line.

Luca lowered the binoculars slowly. He had seen everything.

From the shadow of the colonnade, he lowered his phone slowly, pulse pounding. He’d followed

So that’s how it was.

Not seduction.
Not obsession.

Strategy.

Luca watched Nico leave the garden, jaw set, phone already at his ear.

He followed Nico on instinct when he left the estate --- something sharp and restless gnawing at him since the serpent card, keeping two cars back, moving through side streets and service roads like a ghost.

Nico drove without hesitation—confident, practiced.

He wasn’t improvising.

Luca parked near an abandoned chapel on the outskirts of the city and killed the engine. He slipped inside through a side entrance just in time to hear voices echoing through the nave.

“You shouldn’t have let her confront you,” an older voice said. Controlled. Shaken beneath the surface.

“She forced it,” Nico replied. “And she’s closer than ever.”

A pause.

“How long?” the man asked.

Nico exhaled slowly. “Months. Maybe less.”

Luca’s pulse spiked.

“She was never meant to suffer like this,” the older man said, voice breaking for just a fraction of a second.

Luca leaned closer, heart pounding.

This wasn’t business.

This was personal.

“If this fails,” the man continued, “we lose her forever.”

Nico’s voice dropped to something raw and dangerous.

“I will burn this world before I let that happen.”

Footsteps approached.

Luca retreated into the shadows, breath shallow, mind racing.

He didn’t know who the man was.

But he knew one thing now with terrifying certainty—

Bella’s life wasn’t just unravelling.

It was being managed.

That night, Bella sat on the edge of her bed, the room hushed around her, staring at the necklace resting in her palm.

A simple gold circle.
A ring-shaped pendant.

She didn’t remember putting it on.
Didn’t remember owning it.

And yet her fingers curled around it instinctively, possessively — as if letting go wasn’t an option her body would allow.

The metal was warm.

Outside her window, unseen, Nico stood wrapped in darkness, his gaze fixed on the soft glow spilling from her room. He didn’t move. He didn’t knock. He only watched — guarding a distance he hated but dared not cross.

Across the city, Luca broke open sealed records with hands that trembled despite his resolve. Names. Dates. Medical notes that never should have existed. With every page, his stomach sank further.

And somewhere far quieter — far more dangerous — a man hidden from all of them lifted a phone and made one final call.

“If this goes wrong,” he said softly, without emotion, “we lose her forever.”

The line went dead.

And in the spaces between memory and truth, between love and control, something irreversible began to move.

The truth was no longer buried.

It was coming for all of them.