I was wrong. So terribly, painfully wrong.

After Stefano took care of me that night, I dared to hope. I thought maybe, just maybe, we had finally bridged the gap between us. That his tenderness, his concern, had opened a door we could both walk through.

But I was a fool to think anything would change.

If anything, things have become worse. I haven't seen or spoken to Stefano since that night. It's like he's vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but silence and unanswered questions in his wake. Did taking care of me disgust him or what? Was showing a moment of vulnerability so terrible that he had to run and hide?

I'm so pissed off at him for his childish behavior; my anger is a living thing that burns in my chest. But I can't even confront him about it because he's avoiding me like the plague. It's maddening, infuriating, and it makes me want to scream.

I can't believe I left home for this. The excuse I used - traveling early for Aurora's birthday - feels hollow now, a lie I told myself as much as others. Santiago wasn't happy about it, but I promised to continue working while in Sicily. Now, I'm counting down the days until I can leave, planning my leave the moment Aurora's party is over.

As for Stefano? He can go fuck himself for all I care at this point. And I mean it this time. I'm done with the hot and cold, the push and pull that leaves me dizzy and heartbroken. He's not worth the pain, not worth the sleepless nights and the constant ache in my chest.

I thought I saw a glimpse of the real Stefano that night, the man behind the mask. But now I wonder if it was just another act, another way to keep me off balance and under his control. Well, I'm through playing his games. No more pining, no more waiting for a man who clearly doesn't give a damn about me or my feelings.

Stefano Costanzo can keep his brooding silence and his mixed signals. I deserve better than crumbs of affection followed by days of cold indifference. I'm done being a pawn in his twisted little game of hot and cold. Once I celebrate Aurora's birthday this weekend, I will be on my next flight back home. Fuck you, Stefano!

I snap out of my thoughts at the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen. Realizing I'd missed breakfast, I'd come down hoping to scrounge up something to eat. The kitchen is warm and smells faintly of fresh bread and coffee, a stark contrast to the turmoil in my mind.

"Hi, Aunt Kat," I greet, resting my chin on my hand, trying to muster a smile.

"How are you, dear?" she asks, reaching for a bottle of rosé and pouring herself a glass.

"I'm good, and you?" I reply, picking up my phone to answer some messages, but my heart isn't in it.

"I'm good, but I'm not so sure about you..." she says, and I pause mid-type, glancing up at her. Her eyes are sharp and observant.

"Why do you say that?" I ask, setting my phone down on the counter, suddenly feeling exposed.

"You look like something is troubling you," she says, sipping her drink. Her gaze is steady, almost maternal.

I sigh, my shoulders slumping. "Is it that obvious?"

"Not really, but I can tell."

"Sorry, I know he's your son, but Stefano... he's making me lose my mind."

Aunt Kat nods, a knowing look in her eye. "I can imagine."

I blink at her, surprised. "You're not shocked?"

She chuckles softly, the sound filling the kitchen with a brief warmth. "I'm married to his father. Believe me, I'm not."

I shake my head, still trying to wrap my mind around it. "But Uncle Enzo adores you. He treats you so well. Stefano, on the other hand..."

I trail off, hesitant to start complaining about her son to her face. But Aunt Kat just smiles, a faraway look in her eyes.

"Stefano is acting the same way his father did once upon a time."

My jaw drops. "You're kidding."

It's hard to picture Uncle Enzo ever making Aunt Kat feel how Stefano makes me feel - confused and frustrated like I'm constantly chasing after something just out of reach.

Aunt Kat sets her glass down, fixing me with a serious look. "You'd be surprised, my dear. But I promise you, Stefano cares about you. He might not say it, but I know he does. If you're patient with him, you won't regret falling in love with my son again."

I nearly choke on air. "Falling in love?" I sputter. "I wouldn't say I'm in love with Stefano."

She just smiles, a knowing twinkle in her eye. "Not yet. But soon, trust me."

With that, she grabs her glass and walks out of the kitchen, leaving me staring after her, my mind reeling. I walk to the fridge and grab that bottle of rosé because right now, I don't want to think about her words. The last thing I need is to be in love with Stefano. The thought alone sends a shiver down my spine.

As I pour myself a glass, I try to push Aunt Kat's words out of my mind, but they linger, stubborn and persistent. I take a sip, the cool liquid doing little to calm the storm within me. Falling in love with Stefano? I shake my head, trying to dispel the notion, but the seed has been planted, and I can't help but wonder... what if?

STEFANO

It's early in the morning while walking down the stairs, I hear my sister's voice calling my name but pretend not to hear her and head to the kitchen to get some coffee but unfortunately for me he's there waiting for me.

"Good morning to you too, Sister," I say, walking into the kitchen.

"Stefano, you can't keep doing this. Andrea is a human being; she has feelings. You have to either let her go or make her happy. You can't just bring her all the way here and abandon her."

I wasn't prepared to have this conversation with my sister this morning, but I knew better than to ignore her.

"I know," I sigh, running a hand through my hair. My heart rate quickens at the mere thought of Andrea, and a familiar tightness grips my chest. I grip the edge of the counter, trying to steady myself.

I know my heart yearns for Andrea; anytime I act on my feelings, I have to remind myself why I shouldn't. The mere thought of her sends a wave of longing through me, followed quickly by a surge of fear. My stomach churns with a mix of desire and dread. The coffee I came for lies forgotten as I stand there, caught between the urge to run to Andrea and the instinct to push her away for her own safety.

Aurora's eyes narrow. "Do you? She's barely sleeping, Stefano. I can hear her pacing in her room at night."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I hadn't realized...

"And that's not all," Aurora continues, her voice rising. "She's throwing herself into work, barely eating. It's like she's trying to distract herself from the fact that you brought her here and then just... disappeared. She continues. "What happened years ago was not your fault, and Andrea is different. She was born into the same lifestyle as yours; she can protect herself."

I never forgave myself for what happened years ago. I never want to repeat it.

I run a hand through my hair, guilt gnawing at me. "Aurora, like I told you before, I will never repeat that mistake in my life again."

"You need to stop blaming yourself."

"How can I?" I yell, my voice breaking. Suddenly, the kitchen fades away, and I'm transported back to that fateful night. The metallic scent of blood fills my nostrils as I see myself cradling her limp body, my hands stained crimson. The anguish overwhelms me, and I hear my own voice, raw and broken, screaming into the night. The memory is so vivid, so visceral, that I have to grip the counter to steady myself.

Blinking rapidly, I force myself back to the present, my heart racing. "If I didn't feel the way I did towards her, I am sure she would be happy right now."

The guilt crashes over me anew. Mariana died because of me because I dared to care for someone in this dangerous world. And now, with Andrea... The thought of her meeting the same fate makes my blood run cold.

"You don't know that. It's time you move on," Aurora insists, but her words barely penetrate the fog of my memories.

"There is nothing to move on from, and if this is all you came here for, I advise you to leave."

She stares at me for a moment, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and betrayal, before storming out of the kitchen. I run my hand through my hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. "Fuck!" The weight of my decisions, past and present, settles heavily on my shoulders.

My mind races, replaying the heated conversation with Aurora. She doesn't understand—she can't understand, as it wasn't her it happened to. The Kazan gang is more ruthless than ever, and if they were to discover what Andrea means to me...

A chill runs down my spine at the mere thought. I shake it off. I can't let anything happen to Andrea. I won't.

I know I shouldn't have brought her to Sicily if I wasn't going to do anything about our relationship, but I couldn't help myself. Seeing her with Ivan like that, knowing she was so far away from me, I couldn't just stand by and let it continue.

But keeping her at arm's length is becoming increasingly difficult. Every time I see her, every time I catch a whiff of her perfume or hear her laugh, my resolve weakens. The pull between us is magnetic and undeniable.

I weigh the pros and cons in my mind:

Bringing her closer means I can protect her and keep her within sight. But it also paints a target on her back. The closer she is to me, the more valuable she becomes as leverage against me.

Pushing her away might keep her safer, out of the Kazan gang's crosshairs. But it leaves her vulnerable, unprotected. And the thought of her with someone else, someone like Ivan, makes my blood boil.

There's also the selfish part of me that simply wants her by my side. The part that craves her touch, her smile, her unwavering strength. But am I willing to risk her life for my own desires?

I slam my fist against the counter, the pain a welcome distraction from the turmoil in my mind. I need to make a decision, and soon. Before the choice is taken out of my hands entirely.

One thing is clear—I can't lose Andrea. I won't survive it this time. But how do I protect her without pushing her away completely? How do I keep her safe without suffocating her spirit?

The answers elude me, slipping through my fingers like smoke. But I know I need to figure it out, and fast. Because in our world, hesitation can be deadly.