Lorenzo’s POV

“Good morning.”

We all looked up at the sound of a bright, cheerful voice that seemed to fill the room with unexpected warmth.

“Oh, my… my.”

The girl walked toward Zara and Zen, our two-year-old twins, who were sitting in their baby chairs and happily smearing mashed potatoes all over their tiny hands and faces. Beside them sat Lio, our eldest son, who was carefully eating his breakfast with a seriousness far beyond his seven years.

“Hi, I’m Gia,” she said softly, bending slightly to their level.

Zen paused mid-bite, his spoon hanging in the air as he stared at her with wide doe-like eyes. Zara tilted her head curiously, studying Gia’s face with deep concentration as if she were trying to read her soul.

For a moment, the twins simply stared.

Then, slowly, their small faces lit up with smiles.

I could not help but notice it.

Children have a strange instinct. They understand only one language—love. And somehow, they sense sincerity far better than adults ever could. If someone carries even the slightest trace of falsehood, children react immediately.

But Zara and Zen had accepted her instantly.

That meant something.

“She is my sister, Zara,” Lio announced in his usual calm tone, pointing toward the tiny girl beside him, “and he is my brother, Zen.”

His expression was almost comically serious.

I could not stop the faint smile tugging at my lips.

There it was again—my genes.

That same quiet composure.

That same habit of observing before speaking.

Sometimes I wonder if I should be proud of it or worried about it.

A part of me does not like seeing him so reserved at such a young age. Children should be loud, careless, playful. But then again, some things cannot be changed.

Nature has its own design.

My gaze shifted back toward Gia.

She crouched slightly beside the twins, wiping a bit of mashed potato from Zen’s cheek with a tissue while laughing softly. Zara had already grabbed her finger, as if claiming ownership of her.

Gia did not seem uncomfortable at all.

In fact, she looked completely natural around them.

She spoke to them in that soft, playful tone that children instinctively trust.

I silently observed her.

She had already made a good impression on the rest of the family, but one opinion mattered to me above all others.

Aria’s.

“My queen,” I said calmly, rising from my seat, “I want to see you in my study.”

Without waiting for an answer, I walked away.

Grandfather and Uncle were already engaged in a serious discussion about politics, and Gia was completely absorbed with the children.

Moments later, Aria entered the study.

“Alpha.”

She stood before me with that graceful confidence that had always captivated me.

“Come here.”

I motioned toward her.

She walked closer, and I lifted her gently, making her sit on the edge of my desk.

The moment she settled there, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

The familiar warmth of her body immediately calmed something restless inside me.

For a moment, I buried my face against her, breathing in her scent.

God.

Even after all these years, this woman still felt like my peace.

“Alpha,” she whispered softly, pushing lightly against my shoulders, “leave me now. Someone might come.”

“No one would dare disturb their king when he is with his queen,” I murmured.

Her cheeks flushed faintly.

“After so many years,” she sighed, shaking her head slightly, “I still wonder what kind of obsession you have.”

“It’s not an obsession,” I replied quietly.

“It’s my peace.”

I rested my forehead against her shoulder, letting the warmth of her presence steady me.

She sighed softly, but I could see the faint smile she tried to hide.

“You are impossible,” she murmured.

“And yet,” I replied lightly, adjusting her scarf back into place, “you married me.”

“Some mistakes are irreversible,” she said, though her eyes sparkled with affection.

“Gosh,” I muttered dramatically, stepping back slightly, “you will be the death of me one day, my queen.”

She shot me an amused glare.

But I knew her too well.

“Be ready for a cold shower tonight,” she warned teasingly.

My confident smirk disappeared instantly.

“My queen,” I groaned dramatically, taking her hand, “do not be so cruel.”

She laughed softly before pulling her hand away.

“We’ll discuss your crimes later,” she said calmly. “Now tell me why you called me here.”

That was one of the many reasons I loved this woman.

She always knew exactly when to switch from playfulness to seriousness.

“What do you think about Gia?” I asked.

Aria did not hesitate.

“My king,” she said thoughtfully, “if you are asking for my advice, I would say yes.”

“She is perfect for Vincenzo.”

I frowned slightly.

“Don’t you think she’s… too forward?” I asked carefully.

“And Vincenzo is too closed.”

Aria smiled gently.

“Opposites attract,” she said.

“Look at us.”

I could not argue with that.

Still, my chest tightened slightly as I walked toward the window.

“Vincenzo has had a very difficult life,” I said quietly.

My reflection stared back at me through the glass.

“And now… I just want happiness for him.”

The guilt I had buried for years stirred again.

Vincenzo never blamed me for anything.

But that didn’t erase the fact that he had suffered because of the mistakes of others.

Because of our family.

Because of decisions he never asked for.

“Do not worry,” Aria said softly behind me.

“She is the one.”

I wanted to believe her.

But I also knew Vincenzo.

He was not the man people saw on the surface.

What he showed the world was carefully controlled.

The real storm lived much deeper.

“He won’t accept her easily,” I said quietly.

“Maybe not at all.”

“And I don’t want to destroy this cheerful girl’s life.”

Aria stepped closer and touched my arm.

“Sometimes,” she said gently, “the right person doesn’t destroy your life.”

“They rebuild it.”

I exhaled slowly.

“Send Gia,” I said after a moment.

Aria nodded and left without another word.

She always understood me without explanations.

A few minutes later, there was a knock.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and Gia stepped inside.

“Sit,” I said, gesturing toward the chair.

She sat comfortably, looking directly at me without nervousness.

“Queen told me you wanted to speak with me.”

I studied her carefully.

“Do you know who Vincenzo is?”

She shrugged slightly.

“I know he’s your brother from another mother.”

For a moment, I simply stared at her.

That single sentence filled me with unexpected satisfaction.

For the first time, someone had described our relationship exactly as it was.

Not stepbrother.

Not half-brother.

Just… brother.

I nodded slowly.

“Vincenzo’s life was not easy,” I said seriously.

“He has seen too much at a very young age.”

“I am proud of him. Everything he has built—his company, his reputation—he achieved through his own hard work.”

“But the world has shaped him into the man he is today.”

Gia listened quietly.

Then she spoke.

“Alpha,” she said calmly, “nothing is permanent.”

“Not the past. Not the future.”

Her voice carried quiet conviction.

Before she arrived, I had already investigated everything about her.

Her education.

Her work.

Her travels.

Her reputation.

She was not pretending.

Her words came from her heart.

“Why do you want to marry him?” I asked directly.

“You know life won’t be easy with him.”

She met my gaze without hesitation.

“I want to be someone’s need,” she said softly.

“I want to be someone’s desire.”

Then her lips curved into a small smile.

“And I won’t lie.”

“Vincenzo is my desire.”

The determination in her eyes surprised me.

She wasn’t dreaming of a crown.

She wasn’t chasing power.

She wanted him.

Just him.

“The one who understands someone’s pain,” I said quietly, “is often the one who can heal it.”

She nodded.

“I just need you to guide me,” she said.

“The way you guided Vincenzo.”

That caught my attention immediately.

“How do you know about that?”

“Papa told me, “She replied.

“He said you once asked him to reconsider Vincenzo’s company’s price quotation before rejecting it.”

“There was a time when people wouldn’t even read the proposal because it came from Vincenzo Accardi.”

She smiled sadly.

“He had to fight twice as hard just to be taken seriously.”

Silence filled the room.

At that moment, I knew.

She understood him.

Maybe… more than most people ever would.

“Then start practicing calling him your king,” I said with a smirk.

Her cheeks flushed instantly spreading from her face down to her neck.

At least she still blushes.

Otherwise, she behaves like a fearless tomboy.

As she left the room, I leaned back in my chair.

One brother is calm like the ocean.

Deep.

Quiet.

Dangerous.

The other…

She is a storm.

Bright.

Fearless.

Unpredictable.

Their journey will not be easy.

But it will definitely be interesting.

Now comes the most difficult task.

How do I convince Vincenzo to come to Brussels?

Vincenzo POV

I walk along the same road as I do every single morning, following the routine that has become such an inseparable part of my life that I no longer even think about it.

My hands remain tucked deep inside the pockets of my long overcoat, shielding them from the cold as the chilly morning air brushes against my face. The winter breeze carries a sharpness that seeps through the fabric of my clothes, but the coat does its job well enough to keep the worst of it away.

My glasses sit comfortably on the bridge of my nose, slightly fogging with each warm breath I release into the cold air. The city around me is already awake people walking briskly to work, cars moving in slow lines, the distant hum of everyday life echoing through the streets.

But for me, everything feels calm.

Predictable.

Controlled.

I reach the same spot where my car waits every morning. My driver stands beside it, as punctual and dependable as always.

The moment he sees me approaching, he straightens slightly and gives me a respectful nod.

I return the gesture with a small smile.

No words pass between us, as usual.

They never have.

Over the years, our silence has become its own language. A language made of small gestures, brief glances, and quiet understanding. He has never needed me to explain what I want, and I have never needed him to ask.

He simply knows.

In a world where people constantly demand explanations, conversations, and emotions, having someone who understands without words feels like a rare blessing.

Sometimes I wonder if he realizes how grateful I am for that.

I slide into the backseat of the car, settling comfortably against the soft leather as the door closes quietly behind me.

The car begins moving almost immediately.

As always, we travel the entire distance to the company building without exchanging a single word.

And yet, it never feels awkward.

The silence is peaceful.

Comfortable.

When we finally arrive at the company, the large glass building reflects the pale winter sunlight, its tall structure standing proudly among the other skyscrapers of the city.

My driver steps out first and opens the door for me.

I give him another small nod before stepping out and adjusting the sleeves of my coat.

The moment I walk inside, the familiar atmosphere of the office greets me.

Employees passing through the hallway offer polite smiles and cheerful greetings.

"Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, Mr. Vincenzo."

I acknowledge them all with a gentle nod or a brief smile, continuing toward my cabin.

Despite being the owner of the company, I have never liked creating distance between myself and the people who work here. Respect goes both ways.

And they deserve it.

Reaching my cabin, I remove my coat and hang it neatly before walking toward my desk.

Today's schedule is surprisingly light.

No back-to-back meetings.

No urgent reports waiting for my review.

For once, the day feels... calm.

So before diving into work, I pick up my freshly prepared cup of coffee and walk toward the large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the city.

The view from here has always been my favourite part of the office.

The city stretches endlessly before my eyes-cars moving like tiny streams of light, people walking far below, buildings standing tall like silent witnesses to thousands of lives unfolding every day.

I bring the cup to my lips and take a slow sip.

The warmth spreads instantly through my body.

The bitterness of the coffee settles on my tongue, familiar and comforting.

For a brief moment, I close my eyes, allowing the warmth and the taste to calm the endless noise inside my mind.

Coffee has always had that effect on me.

It slows my thoughts.

Grounds me.

Just as I am about to take another sip, my phone rings from the desk behind me.

I turn around, slightly annoyed at the interruption.

But the moment I glance at the screen, the irritation disappears.

A smile forms on my face.

My brother.

I answer the call immediately.

"Accept my greetings, brother," I say as soon as the call connects.

A deep chuckle reaches my ears.

"Greetings, champ. How are you?"

His voice is exactly the same as it has always been-deep, calm, and steady.

Lorenzo has never been a man of excessive emotions.

He rarely shows what he feels.

But I know him better than anyone.

And I know how much he loves me.

"I am good," I reply softly. "How are you? And how is everyone at home?"

As I speak, I can faintly hear my sister-in-law's voice somewhere in the background, probably scolding the children for something.

A small smile spreads across my face.

"All are good," Lorenzo answers casually.

"How are the little munchkins?" I ask teasingly. "Are they giving you a tough time?"

Just imagining the chaos those three little devils create in that house is enough to make me laugh.

I can only imagine how exhausted my sister-in-law must feel sometimes.

And though Lorenzo would never admit it, I am sure even he struggles to keep up with them.

"When will I get the chance to ask you the same question?" he replies smoothly, completely ignoring my question.

Of course.

I sigh quietly.

I know exactly where this conversation is heading.

"Mom was saying she is planning to visit the kids soon?" I quickly change the subject, hoping to escape the trap he is setting.

If he thinks he is clever, he should remember one important thing.

I am his brother.

When there is silence on the other end of the call, I frown slightly.

"Bro, are you there?"

"I am right here," he replies calmly. "And I am waiting for my answer."

The smugness in his voice makes me roll my eyes.

Sometimes he is just too smart for my liking.

Taking a slow breath, I finally answer.

"Not in the near future."

There is no point lying.

He knows me too well.

"Okay," he says after a moment. "I will not force you."

His tone softens slightly.

"Take care of yourself. And call me if you need anything."

The way he says it makes me smile again.

Even after all these years, he still talks to me like I am a five-year-old child who might get lost without supervision.

And strangely enough...

I do not mind it.

"I will," I reply quietly.

He hums in response before disconnecting the call.

I lower the phone slowly.

I know he understands that I may never get married.

But he never stops hoping.

And he never stops trying.

Sometimes I wonder if he worries about my loneliness more than I do.

Shaking the thought away, I take a deep breath and sit down in my chair, finally focusing on the work waiting for me.

Hours pass faster than I expect.

By the time I realize it, most of the day's work has already been completed.

Now I am simply reviewing strategies for expanding the company further when I hear a soft knock on the door.

"Come in."

The door opens gently, and Ms. Carlo walks inside.

"Sir, is there anything you need? I will be leaving for my class," she says politely, standing near the door.

This is part of her routine.

She always checks before leaving.

I glance up briefly and shake my head.

"No. You may leave."

"Okay, sir, then I will-"

The door suddenly opens again before she can finish.

Valerio walks in holding a file.

"Vincenzo, I need your signature," he says casually. "Check the documents and sign them. I will collect them tomorrow."

His tone is normal.

But the moment his eyes land on Ms. Carlo, his expression changes.

His gaze hardens.

Ms. Carlo immediately lowers her eyes, clearly uncomfortable.

"You may leave, Ms. Carlo," I say calmly while opening the file.

But Valerio suddenly speaks.

"Where are you going?" he asks sharply.

His voice is colder than usual.

"You have class in the evening. Why are you leaving so early? Or have you started taking us for granted already?"

Ms. Carlo stiffens.

"Let me tell you one thing," he continues harshly. "You already have privileges in this company, so you better respect that."

I close my eyes briefly, controlling my irritation.

This is not like him.

"Si... sir..." Isa tries to speak, but Valerio interrupts her again.

"Oh yes," he scoffs. "How can I forget? People like you never value good deeds."

The words sting.

I can see it clearly on Isa's face.

She is trying desperately not to cry.

"Enough, Valerio," I say firmly.

"She has her exam today. That is why she is leaving early."

He snorts dismissively.

What is his problem with this poor girl?

"You may go, Ms. Carlo," I repeat gently.

She nods quickly and turns toward the door.

But before she can leave, Valerio speaks again.

"Take your bag and come outside," he orders. "I will drop you. I have work nearby, and your college is on my way."

I lean back in my chair, completely stunned.

Valerio offering someone a ride?

That is... unexpected.

"No, si-" Isa tries to refuse.

"I dare you to say anything," he says through clenched teeth.

This behaviour is so unlike him that it leaves me momentarily speechless.

Isa nods silently and walks out.

I immediately turn toward Valerio.

But before I can ask anything, he speaks.

"Not today, Vincenzo."

Then he walks out.

I stare at the door long after he disappears.

Confusion swirls in my mind.

What just happened?

Valerio POV

I stand at the main gate of the company, my patience slowly burning away with every passing second.

The winter air is cold, sharp enough to bite the skin, but the chill does nothing to cool the irritation simmering inside me. My eyes remain fixed on the entrance, watching every person who walks out, waiting for one particular girl.

Isa.

My jaw tightens.

I had told her-very clearly-that I would drop her to college today.

Yet the girl seems to have developed a habit of ignoring my words.

A dangerous habit.

My fingers curl slowly into fists inside the pockets of my coat.

If she leaves for college without listening to me today... she will learn exactly why people think twice before crossing me.

The lift doors slide open.

And there she is.

A slow smirk spreads across my face.

She walks timidly toward the main door, her head slightly lowered, eyes glued to the floor as if the tiles beneath her feet are more interesting than the world around her.

For some reason, the sight pleases me.

She is not looking at anyone.

Not at the men passing by.

Not at the people greeting her.

Her attention remains entirely on the ground in front of her.

Good.

The moment her eyes lift and land on my car, recognition flashes across her face.

She hesitates for a moment before slowly walking toward it.

She reaches the car.

And opens the back door.

My eyes close slowly.

A pulse of irritation runs through me.

"What do you think?" I ask coldly, my voice laced with sarcasm. "Am I your driver, Your Highness?"

She freezes like a child caught doing something wrong.

Realization dawns across her face almost instantly.

She quickly shuts the back door and rushes around the car before opening the passenger door and slipping into the seat beside me.

I start the car without another word.

The silence inside the vehicle is thick.

Heavy.

Every time I speak harshly to her, something inside me twists with guilt.

But when it comes to Isa... I lose control.

And I hate losing control.

The car fills with the loud, irritating beeping of the seatbelt warning.

It continues.

Louder.

More persistent.

Yet Isa sits beside me completely lost in her own thoughts.

She does not move.

Does not react.

Does not even seem to hear it.

My grip tightens on the steering wheel.

Finally, I slam the brakes.

The car jerks to an abrupt stop.

She gasps softly and looks at me in confusion.

First at me.

Then outside.

Then back at me again.

Her brows knit together as if she genuinely has no idea what just happened.

Unbelievable.

When she still does not understand, I lean toward her.

Her reaction is immediate.

Her eyes widen, and she presses herself back into the seat, startled by the sudden closeness.

A dark smile forms on my lips.

Oh... this is interesting.

Slowly-deliberately-I reach for the seatbelt.

Instead of simply fastening it, I pull it slowly across her body.

My arm brushes against her chest.

My breath grazes the delicate skin of her neck.

Her entire body goes rigid.

Her breath catches.

Her chest rises sharply, as if she suddenly forgot how breathing works.

For a moment, she stops moving entirely.

I can almost hear the frantic beating of her heart.

Satisfied, I click the belt into place and lean back into my seat.

"I didn't realize I had hired deaf staff," I say lazily as I resume driving. "Didn't you hear the seatbelt warning?"

Her cheeks flush instantly.

"I-I am sorry," she stammers. "I was just thinking about my final exams."

"Didn't you prepare?" I ask.

"No! No, sir. I did," she says quickly. "I just have... pre-exam jitters."

She fidgets nervously with the strap of her bag.

"I always get nervous before exams," she continues. "Do you ever get nervous before exams, sir? Oh... I am sure you do not."

She answers her own question quickly.

I glance at her.

This is the most I have ever heard her speak.

Normally she is quiet.

Reserved.

Careful with every word.

But today she is talking endlessly.

Her nerves are clearly unravelling her composure.

"You know," she continues softly, "I even tried for the Oxford entrance exam once... but I couldn't clear it."

She makes a small sad face.

Something tightens in my chest.

We reach the college shortly after.

I stop the car near the entrance.

She stares at the gate ahead of her like a soldier about to walk into battle.

Her fingers twist together anxiously.

She looks fragile.

Too fragile.

"Ahem... I think I should go?" she says softly.

"Isa."

She turns toward me instantly.

Those innocent eyes meet mine.

"Don't be nervous," I say quietly. "You'll do well."

"You think so?" she asks.

"Yes."

Without thinking, I take her hand in mine.

Her palm is warm.

Soft.

"I'll be here waiting," I say.

Her eyes widen slightly.

"You'll wait?"

"Yes."

Then, before I can stop myself, I lean forward and press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Good luck."

She leaves the car in a daze.

I watch her until she disappears inside the building.

A smile tugs at my lips.

The girl who once avoided even my shadow allowed me to kiss her today.

God.

This girl will destroy me one day.

________________________________________

My mind drifts back to the first time I saw her.

She was sitting at a desk, completely absorbed in her work when I returned from Kenya.

Her hair was tied neatly in a ponytail.

Her posture straight.

Her attention entirely on the papers in front of her.

She did not even notice me standing there.

Which irritated me.

"Who are you?" I asked.

She looked up calmly.

"And may I ask who you are here to meet?"

I stared at her.

"You don't know me?"

"I suppose not," she replied politely.

That stung.

"Valerio Barone," I said slowly.

Her eyes widened.

"Oh! I am sorry. I am new here."

She smiled.

And that smile-

God.

It was the most innocent thing I had ever seen.

Like a child.

Like something untouched by the ugliness of the world.

Mine.

The thought came out of nowhere.

I pushed it away immediately.

But the attraction had already taken root.

And it grew.

Every single day.

I tried avoiding her.

I insulted her.

I pushed her away.

But she kept smiling.

Somewhere along the way, her smile became my weakness.

Now if I do not see her for a single day, I lose my mind.

I even assigned one of my men to watch her.

To follow her.

To report every movement, she makes.

Sometimes I think I have become insane.

But the idea of not knowing where she is...

Who she is with...

What she is doing...

Drives me mad.

________________________________________

Students begin walking out of the campus.

And then I see her.

But she is not alone.

A man has his arm resting casually on her shoulder.

My blood turns to fire.

Rage explodes inside my chest.

Who the hell is he?

Why didn't my man report this?

She notices me.

Immediately she removes his hand and walks toward me.

The man follows.

"Sir... you're still here?" she asks.

I ignore the question.

"How was the exam?"

"I think I answered three questions wrong," she says sadly.

I scoff internally.

Three wrong answers.

"Don't worry. You will not fail because of three mistakes."

I sit in the car and look at her.

She is still standing outside.

With him.

"Do you need a special invitation?" I ask coldly.

"Umm... sir, I do not want to trouble you. He's, my friend. He lives near my house. He can drop me."

The idiot waves at me.

I ignore him.

"I don't like repeating myself," I say quietly.

My tone leaves no room for argument.

She quickly says goodbye to him and sits inside the car.

I start the engine.

And drive away.

But inside me-

A violent storm is already brewing.

Because now I want to know one thing.

Exactly who the hell that man was.

And why his hand was on my girl.

*