The aftermath of the incident left the master bedroom suffocatingly quiet. On the velvet sheets, Elena's eyelids finally fluttered shut, exhausted from a terror she didn't fully understand. Luca stood by the bedside, his chest tight as he looked down at her. He adjusted the blanket with a gentleness that felt foreign to the cold walls of the Venzagrase estate.
When he stood up, the warmth left his face. He stepped out onto the balcony, pulling out his phone and dialing his head of security.
"Dig," Luca said, his voice a low, lethal whisper. "I don't just want names. I want to know exactly how she managed to run away from our wedding that night. Check every blind spot in the venue's security, trace the vehicles, find out who helped her escape." He paused, his grip tightening on the railing as he looked back at the sleeping girl. "And find out who met her after she fled. Whatever happened after that wedding changed her completely. I want to know into what."
The next evening, the door to the guest suite creaked open. A young maid walked in, eyes on the floor. "Ma'am? Master Luca requests your presence. It's time for dinner."
Elena sat up, her heart quickening. Before she could step out of bed, the door swung open completely, and Reema walked in, dismissing the maid with a flick of her wrist.
Reema crossed her arms, scanning Elena with disdain. "Grandpa Leo is downstairs tonight," she warned. "Which means you'd better be on your best behavior. Don't you dare cause an issue. The old man doesn't have patience for your drama."
Elena, wanting nothing more than to avoid a confrontation, nodded and lowered her gaze.
But as they walked into the corridor, Reema's hand shot out, grabbing Elena's arm.
"You think you can deceive my brother with this act?" Reema hissed. "It might work on Luca. It won't work on the rest of us. And that fake baby you were claiming to have? I know it was a scheme from the start. I just didn't know you'd get caught this easily."
A cold spike of dread pierced Elena's chest. A fake baby?
Her mind raced. The family thought Sarah had lied about being pregnant. But Elena knew the truth — the real Sarah was pregnant. She knew it for a fact. But because Elena was standing here in Sarah's place, showing no physical signs of pregnancy, the Venzagrases believed it was all an elaborate hoax. Elena still believed the real Sarah was dead, buried under a mountain of secrets, and she couldn't say a word to defend her without exposing her own identity.
Confused and desperate, she nodded numbly and tried to pull her arm away.
The resistance only fueled Reema's anger. She dragged Elena further down the hallway. "Stop playing mute and talk, you dimwit."
Elena just stared back, helpless, her eyes wide with unvoiced terror. Seeing no reaction, Reema finally let go with a disgusted groan. "Forget it. Just walk."
Downstairs, the dining room was suffocatingly stiff. The Venzagrase family was already gathered around the mahogany table. At the head sat Grandpa Leo, his sharp eyes reviewing everything. To his right sat Luca, listening coldly as the elders discussed the family business.
The moment Elena stepped into the room, it went dead silent. Every eye turned to her.
Luca's gaze fixed on her instantly, distracted entirely from the business talk. He watched her — the way she fidgeted with her fingers, her shoulders hunched like a target. The Sarah who vanished on their wedding night was a cunning, fearless strategist. This wasn't her.
Whatever happened after that wedding changed her completely.
The silence stretched until one of the oldest nannies broke it. "Sit over there," she said, pointing to a seat a few spaces down from Luca.
Elena hurried to the chair. Moments later, a servant placed a plate in front of her — an intricate foreign dish with multiple sets of silverware she'd never seen.
The old nanny chuckled, a testing sound, and picked up a specific knife and fork, demonstrating the movements with exaggerated slowness. "Do you even know how to use these, dear? Or have you forgotten that too?"
Instead of snapping back with the arrogant insult the real Sarah would have thrown, Elena simply nodded, looking up with wide, innocent eyes like a frightened child eager to please.
From the head of the table, a low sound broke the silence.
Luca chuckled.
The sound made several relatives stiffen. He wasn't laughing at her — he was captivated by how different this version of his wife was. He had never seen Sarah act this way. Watching her nod like an obedient child only sharpened his need to understand what had happened to her that night, and who was responsible.
No one else at the table spoke for the rest of the meal. Between the morning's incident and the way Luca was watching her now, the family had reached one shared, unspoken conclusion: whatever they believed about the lies, the escape, the fake pregnancy — Luca was still dangerously devoted to her, and he would come for whoever had put that fear in her eyes.
The following morning, the front doors of the Venzagrase estate swung open.
An elegant woman wrapped in designer silk walked into the foyer. It was Camellia, a close family friend, come to find Luca's mother for a planned shopping trip. But the moment Camellia stepped into the living room, her eyes locked onto Elena sitting on the sofa.
Camellia froze. Her face drained of color, a look of disbelief washing over her features.