Chapter 98

Chapter 98
Aria’s POV
I woke up with my fingers still wrapped around my handbag like a lifeline. The morning light streaming through the curtains felt too bright, too cheerful for how dark everything seemed.
The memories hit me immediately. Last night. The jewelry. The search. Antonio's face when they found that necklace in my bag.
The disappointment in his eyes.
I'd seen that look before, years ago, when other kids at the orphanage got caught stealing food or breaking rules. The nuns would get that same expression—not anger, but something worse. Like they'd expected better and been let down.
But this was different. This was Antonio. The man who'd looked at me like I might actually be family. The man who'd made me believe, for just a moment, that I could belong somewhere.
Hot tears rolled down my cheeks before I could stop them. I pressed my face into the pillow, trying to muffle the sobs that came from somewhere deep in my chest. Everything hurt. My throat, my chest, my heart—everything.
How could they think I would steal from them?
A soft knock interrupted my crying. "Miss Aria?" Jennifer's voice was gentle through the door. "I've brought your breakfast."
I wiped my eyes quickly and sat up. "Come in."
Jennifer entered with a silver tray, her face kind but concerned. She set the tray on the side table—fresh fruit, toast, coffee that smelled better than anything I'd had growing up. The sort of breakfast that reminded me how different this world was from mine.
"You didn't eat anything last night," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I'm not very hungry," I said quietly.
Jennifer's expression softened. "I know last night was difficult. But Mr. Damian, he's a good man. He'll figure this out."
Would he? Part of me wanted to believe that. But another part—the part that had learned not to trust too easily—wondered if he'd even bother. Why would he fight for someone like me when it meant going against people like the Montrossos?
"I just... I need some time alone," I said. "Please."
Jennifer nodded, though I could see she wanted to say more. "I'll be downstairs if you need anything. Anything at all."
After she left, I stared at the breakfast tray. The coffee was probably getting cold, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Nothing felt real anymore. This room, this house, this life I'd stumbled into—it all felt like a dream I was about to wake up from.
No. Not a dream. A nightmare.
An hour later, I'd pulled myself together enough to think clearly. Sitting here feeling sorry for myself wasn't going to fix anything. If I wanted to clear my name, I had to do something about it.
I had to call Antonio.
My hands shook as I picked up my phone. What would I even say? How do you convince someone you're innocent when all the evidence says otherwise?
But I have to try.
I dialed the number he'd given me weeks ago. It rang once, twice, three times. Then a crisp voice answered.
"Montrosso residence."
"This is Aria Rossi," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'd like to speak with Mr. Antonio, please."
There was a pause. Then: "I'm sorry, Miss Rossi, but Mr. Antonio has instructed that he doesn't wish to take any calls at this time."
The words hit me like a physical blow. He didn't even want to hear my voice. Didn't want to give me a chance to explain.
"Could you... could you please tell him that I just want to—"
"I'm sorry, miss. Those were his instructions. Good day."
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone in my hand, feeling something break inside my chest. Trust. Whatever trust had been building between Antonio and me was gone. He'd made up his mind about me based on that necklace, and nothing I said would change it.
Just like everyone else.
I set the phone down and buried my face in my hands. The tears came again, but these were different. These weren't tears of shock or confusion. These were tears of loss. Of grief for something I'd never really had but had dared to hope for.
A family. A place to belong. Someone who believed in me.
How stupid could I be?
I don't know how long I sat there crying. Eventually, I heard footsteps in the hallway. Heavy, familiar. Damian.
The door opened without a knock. That should have annoyed me, but I was too empty to care about boundaries anymore.
"Aria." His voice was softer than usual.
I looked up. He was still wearing yesterday's clothes, his hair messier than normal. He looked like he hadn't slept.
"I tried calling him," I said without preamble. My voice sounded hollow, even to me. "Antonio. He won't even take my calls."
Damian's jaw tightened. He walked over and sat in the chair across from the bed, studying my face. "I'm going to find out who did this to you."
Who did this to me. Not if someone had framed me. Who. Like he actually believed I was innocent.
"Why?" The question slipped out before I could stop it.
"Why what?"
"Why would you help me? If your family thinks I'm a thief, if the Montrossos think I'm a thief, why would you believe otherwise?"
He was quiet for a long moment, his dark eyes never leaving mine. When he spoke, his voice was low, certain. "Because I know you, Aria. The real you. And the real you would never steal from people who showed you kindness."
Something warm flickered in my chest. Not hope—I wasn't ready for hope yet. But something. Relief, maybe. That at least one person in this world knew I wasn't a thief.
"Thank you," I whispered.
He nodded once, then pulled out his phone. "Lorenzo's working on it. We'll have answers soon."
Before I could respond, my phone rang. The number on the screen made my blood run cold.
St. Anna's Hospital.
I answered immediately. "Hello?"
"Miss Rossi? This is Dr. Martinez. I'm calling about Jessica."
My world stopped. "What's wrong? Is she—"
"She's stable, but her condition took a turn overnight. We need to adjust her treatment plan immediately, and I'm afraid the additional medications and procedures will be... significant financially."
No. No, no, no.
"How much?" I asked, though I was afraid to hear the answer.
"The new treatment protocol will run approximately fifty thousand euros over the next six months. I know this is sudden, but we need to start immediately if we're going to—"
The phone slipped from my hand. I couldn't breathe. The room felt like it was spinning, walls closing in.
Strong hands gripped mine. Warm, steady. Real.
"Aria. Look at me."
Damian's voice cut through the panic. I focused on his face, on the way his dark eyes stayed locked on mine.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Jessica," I managed to say. "Her treatment. I can't... I don't have..."
"I'll handle it."
The words were simple. Direct. Like he was talking about paying for groceries instead of fifty thousand euros.
"You don't understand," I said desperately. "It's too much money. I can't ask you to—"
"You're not asking. I'm telling you." His grip on my hands tightened. "Whatever she needs, whatever it costs, I'll take care of it."
I searched his face, looking for the catch. The conditions. The price I'd have to pay. But all I saw was determination. And something else. Something that looked almost like...
Care?
"Why would you do that?" I whispered.
He was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was rougher than usual. "Because you love her. Because she matters to you. And you... you matter to me."
You matter to me.
I stared at him, afraid to believe what I was hearing. Was this real? The concern in his eyes, the way he'd rushed to reassure me about Jessica, the way he'd promised to find the truth about last night?
Or am I just seeing what I want to see?
But real or not, Jessica would be safe. That was what mattered most.
"Thank you," I said again, and this time I meant it with everything I had.
He squeezed my hands once more before letting go. "I'll call the hospital and arrange payment. You don't need to worry about any of it."
As he pulled out his phone to make the call, I watched his face. The hard lines around his eyes, the way his jaw set when he was determined about something. This was the man everyone feared, the heir to a criminal empire.
But right now, he was just someone who was willing to save the person I loved most in the world.
Maybe I don't understand him at all.
And for the first time since waking up this morning, I wondered if that might not be such a bad thing.

While Damian handled the financial arrangements, I sat quietly on the bed, trying to process everything that had happened in the last twelve hours. Last night I'd been falsely accused of theft. This morning I'd been rejected by the one man I'd hoped might accept me as family. And now...
Now Damian was paying for Jessica's treatment without asking for anything in return.
What kind of man does that?
Not the cold, controlling man I'd married on paper. Not the dangerous heir everyone whispered about. This was someone else entirely.
I was still scared. Still hurt. Still not sure if what I saw in Damian's eyes was real or just wishful thinking.
But for the first time in hours, I felt like I could breathe again.
Maybe everything isn't lost after all.