Chapter 6 CRACKS BENEATH THE SURFACE

Lucia woke to the hum of early city traffic and the soft rustle of silk sheets, confused by the unfamiliar brightness bleeding through floor-to-ceiling windows. For a moment, she wasn't sure if the night before-the gala, the protest, the forced closeness-had been a dream.

Then she turned her head.

Matteo was standing near the open balcony, shirtless, suit pants low on his hips, his phone pressed to his ear. He spoke in fluent French-sharp, decisive, commanding. Business never slept, even after scandal.

Lucia sat up, the sheet slipping down her shoulders. The tension in his shoulders didn't soften when he saw her awake.

"Give me a moment," he said curtly into the phone, then set it down. "The press is still circling."

"Of course they are." She reached for the robe left at the end of the bed. "We gave them fireworks."

He folded his arms. "We gave them control. That's dangerous."

She moved to the coffee cart without looking at him. "And what do you suggest? Hiding? Silence?"

"I suggest strategy."

"You mean lies," she said, pouring espresso into a delicate china cup.

His voice dropped. "You think I'm lying about Carla?"

Lucia turned, facing him fully. "I think you haven't told me the truth."

He moved closer, slowly, like he was crossing a battlefield. "What exactly do you want to know?"

Her pulse thudded, but she didn't back away. "She said I don't know what you did to her. What did you do, Matteo?"

Silence.

He didn't answer right away-and that answer in itself told her everything.

"I ended things," he finally said. "It was over for a long time. But Carla doesn't let go. She doesn't lose."

"And you let her believe she hadn't lost?" Lucia asked, voice tight.

Matteo looked away. "I thought we could still work together. I underestimated how deep her ambition runs."

Lucia's jaw clenched. "So she was in love with you and you let her dangle while negotiating your marriage to me?"

"It wasn't like that."

"Then explain it."

He stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "She used me, too, Lucia. Every moment she spent beside me was calculated-position, visibility, inheritance. She thought I would marry her to keep the family line clean. She never expected I'd choose someone... unpolished."

Lucia's stomach dropped. "Unpolished?"

His eyes met hers. "Real. Which makes you dangerous-to her. To the board. Even to me."

She didn't know whether to slap him or walk away. "You still haven't told me what she meant. What did you do that was so unforgivable?"

Matteo exhaled. "I exposed her father's corruption to the board two years ago. It nearly cost them everything. Carla never forgave me for that."

Lucia stared at him. "You ruined her family."

"No," he said coldly. "They ruined themselves. I just refused to cover it up."

The Medical Call

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed. Grandmother. Lucia picked it up immediately.

"Nonna?"

"Lucia," her grandmother's voice was tight. "We've arrived at the clinic. It's... it's impressive, very modern. They've taken Enzo back for tests."

Lucia moved to the side of the room. "How is he?"

"Quiet. He always gets quiet when he's scared. But he smiled when he saw the MRI machine."

Lucia swallowed hard. "Stay with him. I'll be there as soon as I can."

She ended the call and turned back to Matteo.

"I'm going to the hospital."

His brow lifted. "Now?"

"Yes. You arranged this for my brother. I'm not letting him go through it alone."

"I'll have a driver meet you downstairs."

"I don't need a driver," she snapped, already slipping into clothes.

"You do now," he said evenly. "You're the wife of Matteo De Luca. If you vanish into the city alone, it becomes news. Speculation. Rumors of separation before the ink is dry."

Lucia glared at him. "So I'm your prisoner now?"

He stepped closer. "No. You're my partner. You said we're in this together. That means protecting the people you love without giving our enemies a reason to strike."

She stopped, stunned by the clarity in his tone.

"I'll come with you," he said.

"What?"

"To the clinic. Let them see us together. Let them talk. But this time, we control the story."

At the Clinic

The private neurology center sat nestled in the outskirts of Milan, surrounded by olive trees and modern sculpture. Enzo's room overlooked a small garden, and his eyes lit up when Lucia walked in with Matteo beside her.

"Lulu!" he cried, sitting up in bed. "Look! They gave me socks with rubber ducks!"

Lucia laughed, tears stinging her eyes. "You're always finding the good stuff."

Matteo hung back, watching the exchange quietly. Lucia held her brother's hand and leaned in to kiss his forehead.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I'm in a spaceship," he whispered. "They put this helmet on me and showed me pictures. My head got warm."

The doctor arrived moments later, nodding at Matteo with the unmistakable recognition of class hierarchy.

"Preliminary scans show irregularities in the prefrontal cortex. We need more imaging, but there's a chance this could be manageable with therapy and medication."

Lucia's breath caught. "He could live a normal life?"

"It's too early to promise. But yes. It's possible."

She sat down hard, the air rushing from her lungs.

Matteo stepped beside her and gently touched her shoulder. It was nothing romantic. Just steady. Reassuring.

And somehow, that steadiness felt like more than anything Carla had ever given.

The Board Strikes Back

By the time they returned to the hotel, a bomb had dropped.

The De Luca board had called an emergency vote-Matteo's leadership was under review.

"Who called it?" Lucia asked, pacing the suite in disbelief.

"Vitale," Matteo replied, loosening his tie. "With backing from the Rossinis. Carla's family."

Lucia turned on him. "They're using your marriage as the weapon, aren't they?"

"They're trying to frame me as unstable. Impulsive. Letting personal matters cloud my business judgment."

Lucia's eyes narrowed. "And marrying me is the 'personal matter'?"

His eyes snapped to hers. "No. Marrying you is the reason I still have a shot."

She stopped.

"I've spent years trying to keep this empire from collapsing under its own ego," he said, his voice low and tense. "But this family? This company? It feeds on legacy. On appearances. I gave them a perfect marriage on paper-and now they're trying to find a crack in it."

Lucia crossed the room and stood before him. "Then let's give them the opposite."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Let's make this marriage look not just stable-but powerful. Not cold-but real. You're a strategist, Matteo. So am I. And I know exactly how to spin a narrative."

"You'd do that?" he asked. "Even after everything?"

She looked him dead in the eyes. "Enzo needs treatment. And I won't let your enemies win."

Matteo smiled-just barely. "You're not unpolished, Lucia. You're dangerous."

She grinned. "Good. Then let's give them something to be afraid of."

A Dangerous Proposal

That night, Matteo took her hand and led her to the balcony again. The city lights were dimmed now, but the tension hadn't left.

He turned to her. "We need to go further. Public interviews. Joint appearances. Maybe even move your grandmother and Enzo to Milan permanently-for optics."

"Is that what this is now?" she asked. "One long performance?"

"No," he said softly. "But if we fake it long enough... maybe it won't be fake anymore."

Lucia felt her breath catch.

And in that moment-on that balcony, with scandal rising and power shifting like tectonic plates beneath them-Lucia realized that somewhere between duty and deceit... something terrifying and real had begun to bloom.