Page 71 of Malevolent Secrets

He leads me through the house, showing me the various rooms. The living room is spacious, with plush sofas and a grand piano in the corner.

The dining room has a long table that could easily seat twenty people and the kitchen is state-of-the-art, with gleaming appliances and granite countertops.

We continue to the second floor, where Lorenzo shows me to my room. It’s large and beautifully decorated, with a king-sized bed, a cozy reading nook by the window, and an en-suite bathroom. The windows overlook the gardens, offering a breathtaking view.

“This will be your room,” he says, his tone neutral. “You can make any changes you need to feel comfortable.”

“Thank you,” I reply, feeling overwhelmed by the luxury and the sudden change in my circumstances.

He nods, then hesitates for a moment. “If you need anything, I’ll be in my office. It’s down the hall, third door on the left.”

“Okay,” I say, trying to process everything.

Lorenzo leaves, closing the door softly behind him. I stand in the middle of the room, taking it all in. The opulence is almost surreal, a stark contrast to the modest home I shared with Jeremy.

I walk to the window and look out at the garden below, feeling a strange mix of sadness and hope.

As I start unpacking, I think about the man who has brought me here. Lorenzo Duretti is a puzzle I’m not sure I can solve.

He’s shown me kindness, but he’s also a powerful figure with a dangerous reputation. The duality of his nature leaves me feeling conflicted, unsure of what to expect.

Hours pass as I arrange my belongings, trying to make the space feel more like mine. Each item I place carries a memory, a piece of my past that I’m trying to hold on to.

By evening, I’ve made some progress, but there’s still so much left to do. Exhausted, I sit on the edge of the bed, my thoughts a tangled mess. The reality of my new life is sinking in, it’s both daunting and strangely comforting.

A soft knock at the door pulls me from my reverie.

“Come in,” I call, expecting Maria.

Instead, Lorenzo steps into the room, his presence filling the space. He’s changed into a black sweater and jeans, looking more relaxed but no less imposing.

“How are you settling in?” he asks, his voice calm.

“It’s...a lot to take in,” I admit. “But I’m getting there.”

He nods, his eyes scanning the room. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you,” I reply, feeling a flicker of something—gratitude, curiosity, maybe even something more.

He stands there for a moment longer, his gaze meeting mine. There’s something in his eyes, a depth of emotion that he keeps carefully guarded. And then, just as quickly, it’s gone.

“You’re safe here. You know that, right?”

I exhale and nod.

“Good night, Daniella,” he says, turning to leave.

“Good night, Lorenzo,” I reply, watching him go.

I lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The house is quiet. The only sound is the distant chirping of crickets outside. In the silence, I think about the future, about the challenges and the possibilities.

And for the first time in a long while, I feel a glimmer of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

***

I’m bored. The house is so large that the sound of each footstep I take echoes. There’s no one around to talk to. The staff don’t say a word to me. They see me, nod at me, and walk away.

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