We both burst into laughter. Thank God for moments like this that made everything feel a little less heavy.
A knock at the door interrupted us. Isabella popped her head in, holding a package in one hand and the TV remote in the other. She scrunched her face. Someone must have interrupted her in the middle of her favorite show. She placed the package on my lap without a word, then turned and walked to the door.
“Hang on, what is this?” I asked, eyeing the package.
Isabella crossed her arms as she glanced back over her shoulder. “It’s a package. Duh.”
Carina frowned, glancing at me. “Who’s it from?”
Isabella sighed. “A tall guy in a suit came to the door and told me to give it to Alessia Romero.”
Carina and I exchanged a look, one of those shared glances that said everything. “What did I say about opening the door?” Carina yelled, but Isabella was already gone, leaving only her indignant footsteps behind.
The familiar flutter of excitement bloomed in my chest. I focused on the package. Marco often sent me little surprises like flowers, chocolates, and handwritten notes. It always made me feel like I was more than a girl caught in the middle of her parents’ mess.
Carina and I tore into the box. A stunning silk red dress sat inside, the kind I only dreamed of wearing. My heart skipped a beat, a mixture of excitement and nerves. It was beautiful, and I couldn’t help but think about how perfect it would be for tonight.
A shiver ran down my spine as the possibilities of the night filled my mind. Maybe Marco was the right man. I could feel the anticipation building.
Carina held the dress up, examining it. “Are you seeing this? Carmen’s going to think you stole this if she sees you in it.”
The image of my boss’s face when she saw me wearing the dress was oddly amusing. I couldn’t stand Carmen, and the idea of her getting offended over it made the whole thing even more fun.
But as we continued digging through the box, I saw a set of red lingerie. My heart did some flips as I picked it up.Wasn’t this the exact set I saw at the lingerie shop?
I passed it to Carina. “This looks familiar.”
“So what?” She shrugged, brushing it off. “Marco is head over heels for you. This is just him shopping for his girl. Can’t you feel the love?”
The excitement crept back in. I had made the right choice in breaking up with Lucas. I looked at Carina, laughing, feeling like I was in one of her books—a heroine of a story where the future was uncertain, but filled with promise.
Carina reached deeper into the box and pulled out an envelope. “Oh, look—there’s a letter in here.”
I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across my face. It was so typical of Marco. He always sent notes along with his surprises. I eagerly unfolded it, the anticipation almost overwhelming. But as my eyes fell on the words, something cold ran through me. The handwriting wasn’t Marco’s, and he never referred to me as ‘Miss Romero.’
A hint of panic crept in, but I forced it down. He may have asked someone to write it to add a bit of mystery. I was only supposed to meet him tonight, wasn’t I?
“Miss Romero, huh?” Carina teased.
“Yep,” I said, forcing a smile. “Guess my boyfriend’s keeping me on my toes.”
Still, something in that letter felt different—almost chilling.
Chapter Four
Alessia
Marco turned twenty-five today.The evening air was cool as we sat in the backyard of his sprawling beach house. He had insisted on an intimate celebration with just the two of us. The backyard glimmered with soft lights and flickering candles. The glow reflected off the sleek black dress I’d chosen to wear at the last minute, a gentle breeze brushed against my legs, adding to the serene atmosphere. Marco had put effort into making this special. Yet, beneath the charm of the setting, something felt off.
He sat across from me, his expression strained despite the elegance he exuded. His brown hair, tousled from his restless fingers, framed a distracted face. His floral-patterned sleeveless shirt hinted at ease, but his tense demeanor said otherwise.
The tension hung thick in the air, broken only by the clink of his wineglass. He drained his second glass in less than tenminutes. I set my glass down, deciding to speak.
“The food is amazing,” I said, gesturing to the gnocchi and gelato served by his chef.
Marco offered a faint smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” His gaze drifted to the bag at my feet. “Is that my birthday present?”
It wasn’t his gift, but the red dress he sent earlier. I didn’t wear it.