Chapter Three: Eyes That Watch

Rosie quickly learned that in the De Luca mansion, everything was watched.

Not just by cameras, though there were plenty of those—hidden in corners, behind vases, in the chandeliers. No, it was more than that. The very air carried whispers. The walls remembered footsteps. Even silence seemed to listen.

Her days settled into a rhythm of chores, careful words, and quiet observations. Her mother had warned her to stay invisible, to keep her head down. But Rosie wasn’t the kind of girl to stay blind just because the truth might be dangerous.

She noticed things. The way the staff stiffened whenever Luca entered a room. The sudden, hushed meetings late at night. The locked doors. The bruised-looking man who once staggered out of the study and was never seen again.

And Luca. He was always watching.

He never said much to her—not directly. But he was always there. At the far end of a hallway. On the balcony above the dining room. In the reflection of a mirror. His gaze was like a brand—cold and sharp and impossible to ignore.

One afternoon, as she was replacing fresh roses in a vase by the foyer, she caught him standing in the doorway, hands tucked in his coat pockets, watching her in silence.

“You like flowers?” he asked, voice smooth but distant.

Rosie turned, startled but composed. “Yes. They remind me of home.”

“The country?”

She nodded. “There’s a hill behind my house. Wildflowers bloom in spring. It looks like the sky fell onto the grass.”

There was a pause. Something flickered in his eyes—something softer—but it vanished almost instantly.

“You’re not afraid of me,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

Rosie tilted her chin slightly. “Should I be?”

Most people would’ve backed down. But something about his arrogance made her braver than she felt.

He didn’t smile. But his lips curved slightly in something close to amusement. “Smart girl.”

He turned to leave, but paused in the doorway. “Stay away from the east corridor after dark. That’s not a place for someone who likes flowers.”

Then he was gone again, his warning lingering in the air like perfume.

That night, Rosie lay awake in her narrow bed, eyes on the ceiling. Her heart beat faster than usual, not out of fear—but fascination.

Luca De Luca was a mystery. Everyone feared him, yet she couldn’t stop wondering what had turned him into the man he was. Cold, powerful, respected—and lonely.

The next morning brought chaos. An unexpected guest arrived—a sharply dressed man with a scar down his cheek and a thick Russian accent. Rosie didn’t catch his name, but she caught his tone. Business. Dangerous business.

She wasn’t supposed to be near the meeting, but as she passed the corridor, she heard raised voices. The guest wanted something. Luca wasn’t giving it. The conversation ended with a threat veiled in politeness, and the air buzzed with tension after the man left.

Later that day, Rosie noticed the staff moving more quickly. They whispered less, walked with purpose. Something had shifted.

Her mother pulled her aside in the laundry room. “Rosie, listen to me. Don’t ask questions. Don’t go near the offices. Just do your work and stay safe. Please.”

Rosie nodded, but inside, she felt the stirrings of something dangerous and alive.

Because now, she wasn’t just curious about Luca.

She wanted to understand his world. The danger, the secrets, the power.

And whether or not a girl like her—simple, stubborn, and full of light—could survive in a place built entirely of shadows.

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