Chapter 53: WHAT'S SO URGENT, FRANCESCA ?

ENZO POV

The room smelled of old leather and lingering smoke, a perfect setting for troubled thoughts. I sat with my elbows resting on my knees, eyes fixed on the polished floor beneath me. Across , Franco nursed a short glass of whiskey, his eyes flicking towards me, waiting. The silence between us wasn’t hostile—it was heavy with thought.

I finally spoke, my voice lower than usual.

“She’s been too quiet.”

Franco looked up. “Francesca?”

I gave him  a single nod, jaw tightening. He shifted in his seat, his fingers rubbing his temples like the silence itself gave him a headache.

“She’s not the type to disappear, Franco. Not without a word. Not after what we had. What we ended.”

Franco exhaled through his nose, setting his glass down. “You said it yourself you ended it. She's not your responsibility anymore. She’s not your business.”

“No,” I said ,  my voice hardening. “But she’s still dangerous.”

Franco studied him. “You think she’s planning something?”

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “That woman doesn't fade quietly into the night. I know her. I’ve seen her break men with words alone. This... silence? It’s too clean. Too neat. She’s up to something. I can feel it in my bones.”

Franco shrugged. “Then be careful. But don’t go chasing ghosts, Enzo. Not when you’ve finally got something real with Diana.”

Hearing that surprised me, “How do you know Franco?”

“Even the blind can see it”

That name. Diana. It brought a flicker of light into my storm cloud thoughts.

Later that afternoon, the villa was filled with sunlight, pouring through tall windows and illuminating the hallway like a cathedral. Diana stood by the garden, hair braided over one shoulder, wearing a soft blue dress that fluttered in the warm breeze. She turned as I approached, her face lighting up with a warm smile that never failed to disarm me.

“Hi,” she said softly, stepping toward him.

He smiled faintly, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Walk with me?” she asked, slipping her fingers into his.

They strolled through the courtyard, the scent of lemon blossoms in the air.

“I was thinking…” she began, almost timidly. “I want to go out. Maybe just for a few hours. Into the city. To the promenade. I miss the ocean. I miss being out in the world.”

I  stopped walking. My hand dropped from hers.

“No.”

The word came out sharper than I intended. “It’s not safe. Not with everything going on. I can’t guarantee you’ll be protected.”

Diana frowned. “You think I don’t know that? I live it every day. I wake up to guards outside my door, I hear the whispered conversations behind walls. Enzo, I just want one day. One day to feel human.”

I ran a hand down my face. The way she looked at me , it wasn’t pleading it was exhausted.

“You’ll take one guard,” I said finally. “And you’ll stay within his line of sight at all times.”

Diana smiled through teary eyes, stepping forward to wrap her arms around him.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I held her tightly, resting my chin on her head. But something in his chest didn’t feel right. Not fear. Not suspicion.

Something like… a goodbye.

I sat alone in his study as evening settled over the city. Shadows crept along the walls, and the faint hum of jazz echoed from the phonograph in the corner. My phone vibrated once.

Francesca: “Meet me at the Rossa Terrace. It’s urgent. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

I stared at the message, rereading it three times. Her name alone was enough to stir things  I’d tried to bury. Regret. Curiosity. A strange pull I hated myself for feeling.

I knew ,I should delete the message and stay exactly where I was. But Francesca didn’t use the word urgent lightly. And that silence I had  been worried about… maybe it had found its voice.

I grabbed his coat and left without telling anyone.

The Rossa Terrace glowed under the golden touch of early nightfall. Lanterns swayed gently, casting warm halos over laughing diners and clinking glasses. I walked in cautiously, eyes scanning the room.

There she was.

Francesca sat at a table near the railing, her black silk dress hugging her like a second skin. Her long auburn hair fell in perfect waves, and her eyes—those piercing green eyes—caught his as he approached.

“You came,” she said with a small smile.

“I shouldn’t have,” I replied, but sat anyway.

A drink sat before me. The glass was full, fresh. She lifted her own but hadn’t sipped it.

“I didn’t know what you liked anymore,” she said, tilting her head.

I took a cautious sip, trying to guess what this urgent meeting was all about.

“What’s so urgent, Francesca?”

She looked down at her lap, then back at me  with a softness that almost looked real.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” she said. “About us. How it ended. How it should have ended.”

My guard rose immediately. “It ended how it needed to. You know that.”

“I know,” she said, her voice quiet. “But you and I… we never got to say goodbye the right way. Everything happened so fast. One day we were fire, the next, ash.”

I shook my  head. “It’s too late for that. You and I… we burned each other out.”

“But even ashes remember what it was like to burn.”

She leaned forward, her eyes glistening. “Just one kiss, Enzo. One real goodbye.”

“No,” I said firmly, rising from his seat. “You don’t get that. We don’t owe each other anything anymore.”

As I turned to walk away, she stood too—and suddenly, her hand shot out and grabbed my arm. Her grip was unnaturally strong.

“What the hell—”

Before I could react, she pulled me toward her with surprising force. My head spun slightly dizzy, unsteady. My knees felt weaker than they should have.

The drink.

She had put something in the drink.

“I just want what I’m owed,” she whispered and then her lips crashed into mine.

I  tried to pull away, my mind screaming—but my limbs were slow, strength diluted. The kiss wasn’t tender. It was forceful, desperate, a robbery of emotion.

I finally tore away from her—but not before a voice ripped through the air.

“Enzo?!”

My blood froze.

I turned, eyes wide, breath catching in  my throat.

Diana stood at the edge of the terrace, her face a mix of heartbreak and horror. She looked from me to Francesca and back again, her mouth trembling.