Chapter 161 – We Used To Be Close

Chapter 161 – We Used To Be Close


Ghost’s POV

“Seatbelt,” I said.

Suzy was already buckled in the back, her tiny legs swinging, hair a mess from the long day. She hugged a pink stuffed bear to her chest and looked up at me with sleepy eyes.

“I already did,” she said proudly. “Mama said seatbelts are for good girls.”

“Then you’re a good girl,” I said, forcing a small smile.

Fiorella didn’t answer. She sat stiff beside me in the passenger seat, eyes locked on the window like she was watching ghosts in the dark.

“Seatbelt,” I repeated, this time to her.

She didn’t move. “It’s on,” she muttered, the belt hanging loose.

“You used to hate them,” I said quietly. “Said they wrinkled your dress.”

“Maybe I changed,” she said flatly, eyes still forward.

I watched her reflection in the glass. Same face. Same voice. But not the same woman.

“You always talk this much, Muscle?” she asked, her tone sharp.

That name hit wrong.
She’d never called me that. Not once.
The real Fiorella used to call me G, or sometimes Ghostie when she wanted to make me roll my eyes.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Guess I do.”

“Mama,” Suzy said, leaning forward. “Can we still have pancakes tomorrow?”

Fiorella turned her head slightly, smiling the kind of smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “Of course, sweetie. Go to sleep.”

“You always say that,” Suzy giggled. “But you burn them.”

“I’ll do better this time,” Fiorella said, voice too smooth, too careful.

Suzy frowned. “You don’t sound like my mom when you say that.”

The air went tight.

I caught Fiorella’s knuckles flexing against her lap, then she reached back, brushing Suzy’s hair roughly. “Close your eyes, baby.”

Suzy obeyed, though she kept one eye open, watching her mother. I didn’t blame her. Even the kid felt it — the difference.

Silence again. The hum of the engine filled the car. The road lights flashed across her face — pale, still, wrong. Every time I looked, I saw something missing.

“You okay?” I finally asked.

She laughed — short and empty. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you almost died today. That car crash wasn’t a small thing.”

“I wasn’t the one who crashed,” she said. “Valentino was. Maybe check on him instead of me.”

I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “You were in the car too.”

She turned her head, eyes cold. “So? You think I’m fragile?”

That word.
Fragile.
The real Fiorella hated it. She’d once said, ‘I’m poison, not glass.’

“Didn’t say that,” I replied. “I just remember you used to—”

“Stop remembering,” she cut in. “It’s annoying.”

Something twisted in my gut. I’d known Fiorella since before the twins tore each other apart. She was fire and silk. Soft voice, deadly smile. She’d joke even in blood.
This one beside me? She was ice with someone else’s heat stitched on.

I slowed at a red light. She shifted, rubbing her neck. That’s when I saw it — a faint mark just behind her ear, near the scar she’d been hiding.

It wasn’t there before.
It looked new. Fresh.
And underneath the scar, I caught the edge of something inked — a thin tail shape curling down.

My throat tightened.
A fox tail.

“New tattoo?” I asked, keeping my tone casual.

She froze. “What?”

I nodded toward her neck. “The one behind your ear.”

She touched it fast. “It’s… nothing. Just a burn. From when—just mind your business.”

The light turned green. I drove on, eyes back on the road, but my mind was racing.

Something was off. Way off.

“You sure you’re okay?” I asked again.

She turned her head sharply. “Why do you care?”

“Because I used to know you,” I said simply. “And the woman I knew wasn’t like this.”

Her lips twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. “Maybe you never really knew her.”

The way she said it — cold, practiced — made the back of my neck prickle.
I knew Fiorella.
She had secrets, yes. But she had warmth. This one? Just frost.

We turned into the De Luca private road. The gates opened. Guards nodded as I passed, their eyes flicking to the passenger seat. No one said a word.

“You can stop here,” she said suddenly. “I’ll walk the rest.”

I ignored her. “Not a chance.”

Her voice sharpened. “I said stop.”

I pulled up in front of the mansion, cut the engine, and turned toward her. “Boss said I drop you off safe at the door. I follow orders.”

She stared at me for a long moment. Her expression didn’t move, but something flickered — discomfort, maybe fear.

Suzy leaned forward between the seats, smiling. “Good night, Uncle Ghost.”

“Good night, kiddo,” I said softly.

Fiorella opened her door. “Come on, Suzy.”

The little girl climbed out, dragging her bear. I got out too, walking around to make sure they got in safely.

As they turned to head up the steps, I caught Fiorella’s hand shaking slightly — a twitch she tried to hide by tucking it under her sleeve.
That wasn’t Fiorella. The real one had nerves of steel.

When she reached the door, I spoke again. “Hey.”

She looked back, face half-shadowed under the porch light. “What?”

“Next time you call me Muscle,” I said evenly, “at least say it with the same attitude she used.”

For a second, she froze — eyes wide, lips parting like she didn’t know what that meant.

Then she forced a smirk. “Good night, driver.”

The door shut behind her.

I sat there, watching the lights of the mansion flicker through the windows. My hands drummed against the wheel. My chest was tight.

Something was very wrong.

I picked up my phone and opened the encrypted channel.

Message to Pietro Something’s up.
Watch the house.
She’s not her.

I hit send, shoved the phone into my pocket, and looked up at the house again. The night air was still, heavy. Somewhere inside, I saw Suzy’s small shadow moving toward the stairs, and Fiorella’s figure vanishing into her room.

“She’s different,” I muttered to myself. “And not just in attitude.”

I leaned back, staring up at the moon.
Vittorio would want answers.
If I was right, if this wasn’t Fiorella — if someone had faked her  — then the whole house was sitting on a ticking bomb.

And if I was wrong…
Then the woman I once knew was gone for good.

I started the car again, my hand tightening on the wheel.

“Whatever you are,” I said under my breath, eyes on the mansion, “I’ll find out.”

Then I drove off into the night, the mansion lights fading in my rearview — and a bad feeling crawling up my spine.