Chapter 5 - Shadows in TrastevereThe apartment in Trastevere was unrecognizable by Tuesday afternoon.
My cousin Elena had stood in the center of her newly polished marble-tiled kitchen, staring in absolute, jaw-dropping shock as a team of interior contractors finished installing custom soundproof double-glazed windows, a state-of-the-art security system, and a nursery that looked like it belonged in a royal palace.
"Claire," Elena whispered, clutching her coffee mug as if it might anchor her to reality. "Who is this man? Are we involved with the Italian mob? Did you accidentally marry a duke?"
"No mob, no dukes," I sighed, unpacking Maya’s new clothes from a designer wardrobe trunk that had mysteriously been delivered by courier on Monday night. "Just... a very grateful father whose baby I fed on the plane."
"Right. And I’m the Queen of England," Elena rolled her eyes, though she couldn't stop smiling as she tested the plush velvet cushions of the new sofa. "Claire, girl, look at this kitchen! There’s an espresso machine that costs more than my car!"
I smiled, though a quiet unease hummed beneath the surface.
Julian’s platinum card had worked seamlessly. When I tried to buy groceries on Sunday, the transaction cleared instantly, followed three minutes later by a text message from an unknown number: ‘Use it more. You’re eating like a college student.’
He was watching. Not in a creepy, stalkerish way, but in the way a hyper-vigilant billionaire managed his assets—and apparently, I had become one of his primary logistical priorities.
True to his word, by Thursday morning, my phone buzzed while I was sitting on the balcony drinking my morning cappuccino.
It was an incoming video call from an unrecognized international number.
I swiped to answer.
Julian’s face filled the screen. He was sitting behind a massive mahogany desk in what looked like a minimalist penthouse office overlooking the Colosseum at sunrise. He wore a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking devastatingly handsome and dangerously focused.
"Good morning, Claire," he greeted smoothly, his gray eyes lighting up slightly when he saw me. "Did the contractors finish the nursery to your satisfaction?"
"The nursery is nicer than my childhood bedroom, Julian," I said, leaning back in my chair. "You didn't have to do all of this. Really."
"I always finish what I start," he replied simply. Then, his expression shifted, turning slightly solemn. "How is Maya adjusting?"
"She loves the new toys. She hasn't asked about her father once, which breaks my heart and relieves me in equal measure."
Julian nodded slowly, a dark shadow passing behind his eyes. "Speaking of Richard... my legal team back in Boston filed an emergency protective order and initiated expedited custody proceedings yesterday afternoon."
I bolted upright in my chair, spilling half my cappuccino onto the table. "You did what?!"
"Claire, relax," Julian soothed, holding up a hand. "Richard is a violent, abusive coward. My attorneys have already gathered medical records from Boston General regarding Maya's bruising, along with financial audits proving he secreted away your shared assets. He’s currently facing felony charges for domestic assault and child endangerment. He won't be coming near you or Maya ever again."
Tears pricked hot and fast behind my eyelids. The sheer, overwhelming relief of not having to look over my shoulder every time I walked down the street was paralyzing.
"Julian... I don't even know how to thank you," I choked out, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand.
"You can start by packing a bag for you and Maya," he said calmly.
I blinked. "Pardon?"
"My estate on the Amalfi Coast is stunning this time of year," Julian continued, a hint of a smile touching his lips. "Leo misses his favorite nurse, and frankly, I’d rather not conduct international custody negotiations over video chat. My pilot is filing flight plans to Naples now."
"Julian Vance, you are the most impossibly controlling, arrogant man I have ever met!" I sputtered, though I couldn't suppress the hysterical laugh bubbling up in my chest.
"Arrogant? Perhaps," Julian agreed without missing a beat. "But you’re safe, Claire. And that makes all my arrogance entirely justified. I'll see you in four hours."
The screen went black.
May you like
I sat frozen on the balcony for ten full seconds, staring at my phone. Then, I turned to Elena, who had been listening from the doorway with her jaw practically touching the floor.
"Pack your bags, El," I announced, shaking my head in utter disbelief. "We’re moving to the Amalfi Coast."
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