**Chapter 5**
The car ride felt like an eternity, even though it was only thirty minutes. Amber sat stiffly in the backseat, Nico curled up in her lap, fast asleep, his tiny body rising and falling with every soft breath. Luca sat beside her, as cold and distant as ever, completely engrossed in his phone, giving her no more than a passing glance since they left the airport. He seemed to have perfected the art of ignoring her existence. He spoke in rapid Italian on the phone, discussing business, dismissing her with his silence, and for once, she didn’t mind.
As long as there was no conversation between them, there was no argument. And right now, that was a small mercy she could cling to. Maybe this distance would give Nico the space he needed to build a relationship with his father, without the shadow of their broken marriage looming over everything. If she could manage to keep the peace, perhaps Luca could finally be the father their son deserved.
The car weaved through narrow streets, and Amber found herself yawning as the exhaustion of the day settled in. She stared out the window, watching as familiar landscapes flew by, landmarks she hadn’t seen in years but had never forgotten. Her heart clenched as they pulled into the long driveway leading to the *casa*, the sprawling estate coming into view.
The house stood as grand as ever, a palatial testament to Luca’s old-world wealth, its terracotta roof glinting under the soft glow of the driveway lights. Amber’s chest tightened. This place, once her home, now felt like a relic from a life that no longer belonged to her. The memories hit her hard, an onslaught she hadn’t prepared for. They weren’t the painful, bitter memories she had expected—no, it was the happy ones that cut the deepest.
Her wedding night had been spent in this house, filled with laughter and promises of forever. She had brought Nico home here for the first time after giving birth, the joy of being a new mother washing over her as she stood in the nursery Luca had designed himself. These moments had been beautiful once, but now, looking at the familiar stone walls and manicured gardens, they made her feel sick. The memories were bittersweet, twisting inside her like a cruel joke.
Luca didn’t wait for her as the car came to a stop. He climbed out quickly, disappearing into the house with long, purposeful strides, leaving her alone in the silence of the night. It wasn’t a surprise—he’d been leaving her behind for years.
With a heavy sigh, Amber carefully unbuckled Nico, lifting his sleeping body into her arms. He stirred slightly, murmuring in his sleep, but didn’t wake. His face, peaceful and serene, was a stark contrast to the turmoil bubbling inside her. The butler appeared swiftly, carrying their luggage into the house.
Stepping inside the *casa*, Amber was hit with a fresh wave of memories. Every corner, every room whispered stories of a life she had once lived here, stories she had tried desperately to forget. The vase sitting on the entryway table—the one she had found at a flea market one summer—brought a sudden lump to her throat. Luca had laughed when she’d brought it home, teasing her about introducing “flea market treasures” into his family’s pristine estate. His mother had been scandalized, of course, but Luca had loved it, declaring that it added “character” to the house. She could still hear his voice in her head, telling her that a new chapter had been written into the casa’s history, thanks to her.
And there, hanging on the far wall, was the custom painting of the garden—a gift from a local artist they had both admired. Each object in the house seemed to hold a piece of her past, fragments of a life she’d tried to bury.
But the cruelest reminder of all was that despite everything, nothing had changed. The house was still the same, still warm and inviting, still holding onto the memories they’d created. The only thing that was different was her place in it. She wasn’t the lady of the house anymore. She didn’t belong here.
That reality struck her hardest when Carlotta Forentino appeared in front of her, standing in the grand hallway like the ghost of her future.
“Hello, Amber,” Carlotta greeted her, her voice polite but strained, a tight smile barely masking the tension between them. Carlotta looked every bit the part of Luca’s fiancée—poised, elegant, and perfectly in control. She was dressed impeccably in a chic black dress, her hair pulled back into a neat chignon. Amber returned the smile, though it felt more like a grimace.
“Hello, Ms. Forentino,” Amber replied, her voice steady despite the knot forming in her throat. She had known this moment would come, had braced herself for it the moment she left Luca years ago. It had only been a matter of time before Luca returned to his ex-fiancée, the woman he had been engaged to before Amber had ever come into the picture. It was no surprise at all that they were together again now. But facing her, standing in the house that had once been her home, felt like a fresh wound.
“Congratulations on your engagement,” Amber added, forcing the words out through the lump in her throat. “I read about it in the papers.”
Carlotta’s smile tightened, and for a moment, Amber thought she saw a flicker of something—maybe discomfort, maybe pity—in her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had come.
“Thank you,” Carlotta said evenly, her tone clipped and formal. There was no warmth between them, only the icy politeness of two women who knew they would never be friends.
Amber didn’t hate Carlotta. In fact, she couldn’t afford to. As much as she wanted to, as much as the bitterness of the past gnawed at her, she couldn’t let herself despise this woman. Because soon, when she left Italy, Nico would be left in Luca’s care. And Luca wasn’t alone. He had Carlotta now, and whether Amber liked it or not, she would have to trust this woman with her son.
Two weeks. In two weeks, she would leave Italy, and Nico would stay behind with his father. And Carlotta would be there too, stepping into the role Amber had once filled. Nico would need them both, and as hard as it was to accept, Amber knew she couldn’t afford to make enemies.
With a tired sigh, she shifted Nico in her arms and glanced at Carlotta, the weight of the unspoken tension heavy between them.
“I’m sure you and Luca will be very happy,” Amber said softly, the words hollow but necessary. She needed to say them, even if they tore at her insides.
Carlotta didn’t respond right away. Instead, she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, her eyes drifting to the sleeping child in Amber’s arms. Whatever she was thinking, she kept it to herself.
Amber turned away, her heart aching, as she carried Nico upstairs to his old room, wondering how she would survive the next two weeks without losing herself in the process.