The next morning, I woke up to the soft aroma of toasted bread and the gentle glow of sunlight peeking through the curtains. On my bedside table sat a breakfast tray with a warm sandwich, a cup of fresh orange juice, and a folded note in neat handwriting.

"Good morning, beautiful. I have an important meeting this morning. Eat your breakfast. If you need anything, call me. I'll be home by noon. – L."

A soft smile curled on my lips. This man. I shook my head, touched by his thoughtfulness. I freshened up quickly and slipped into a soft yellow dress that flowed around me like a quiet summer breeze. My hair went up into a messy bun, a few loose strands framing my face as I pulled open the curtains, letting sunlight flood my room.

I settled down with my breakfast and continued watching The Vampire Diaries — Season 2, Episode 10. Yup, still a sucker for anything with broody vampires and intense romance.

Around 11 AM, I picked up my phone and decided to video call my family. We usually just text in our group chat every day, but I hadn't spoken to them properly since yesterday, and I missed them more than I wanted to admit.

The screen blinked, and in an instant, my niece Saanvi's face filled it.

"Masiiiiiiiiii!" she squealed, dragging the word with the most heart-melting smile.

I instantly melted. "How's my baby girl?" I asked, smiling back.

"I miss you! Please come back soon. I love you so much!" she said in that tiny pleading voice that always turned me into mush.

"I'll be there by next week, promise," I assured her. "Your Ahaan bhaiya's wedding is next weekend, right?"

She nodded excitedly, then passed the phone to Kiara bhabhi, who raised a concerned brow the moment she saw me.

"I heard about what happened yesterday," she said, her voice soft. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah... I'm fine now. Just shaken, but Lorenzo handled everything."

We talked for a while—about the wedding prep, about Saanvi's obsession with matching lehengas, and then I hesitated before asking, "Bhabhi... do you know what Lorenzo likes? Like... food-wise?"

She smirked. "Oh? Why, Adhira? Planning something sweet?"

"No!" I said too quickly, blushing. "It's not like that! I just... I want to do something for him. He's been doing so much for me, and—" I trailed off awkwardly.

She laughed. "Relax, I'm just teasing. He loves chocolate cake. Ahaan took one for his birthday this year, and he apparently devoured it all by himself."

My eyes lit up. "Perfect."

I made my way to the kitchen, rolling up my sleeves. Flour. Cocoa powder. Sugar. Eggs. Butter. I gathered all the ingredients and started working on the batter with excitement bubbling in my chest.

By the time the cake was baking in the oven, the kitchen was an absolute mess — bowls, spoons, cocoa smears and flour dust everywhere. But I didn't care. I was having fun. For the icing, I crafted soft blue and white flowers on one side and wrote Thank you in the center with careful hands. A light sprinkle of gold dust shimmered across the top. It looked simple but heartfelt.

Just as I placed it in the fridge, Elena aunty walked in. She paused at the sight of the chaos I had created.

"I'm sorry..." I said sheepishly, lowering my head like a guilty child.

To my relief, she chuckled and waved her hand. "Come, let's clean this mess together. You made this for him, didn't you?"

I just smiled and nodded, and we spent the next twenty minutes cleaning and making a light lunch together, chatting about random things—movies, old recipes, her grandkids.

Suddenly, I heard the front door open.

Lorenzo stepped in, dressed in a navy-blue business suit, his jacket slung over one arm, a few strands of his dark hair slightly out of place. His eyes found mine immediately, and a small smile played on his lips.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he walked toward me.

"I'm okay," I replied softly. "Thanks to you."

We sat down at the table, and as we began eating, we talked a little—just soft, mundane things like what he had for lunch at work and the book I was reading.

Then, with my heart thudding a little too loudly, I got up and retrieved the cake from the fridge.

As I carefully placed the chocolate cake in front of him, Lorenzo blinked in surprise, his eyes flickering between the cake and me.

"You made this?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with disbelief.

I nodded, suddenly feeling shy. "Yeah... I, um, asked Kiara bhabhi what you liked. She said chocolate cake, so I thought... I mean, you've done so much for me, Lorenzo. I just wanted to do something for you too."

His expression softened, and for a moment, he just stared at the cake without saying a word. Then he reached out, his finger gently tracing the little gold dust I'd sprinkled on top.

"You even made blue and white flowers..." he said quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "My favorite colors."

I blinked, surprised. "Really? I just... guessed."

"Seems like you're getting really good at reading me, dolcezza," he murmured, his eyes meeting mine.

I looked down, flustered, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

He stood up, walked around the table, and gently took my hand in his. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "This means a lot. No one's baked me a cake in... years."

I smiled, my heart unexpectedly fluttering at his words. "Well, now you've got me," I whispered.

He looked at me for a long moment, his thumb brushing the back of my hand gently. Then he chuckled and said, "If it tastes half as good as it looks, I might just fall in love."

I gasped, eyes wide. "With the cake, right?" I asked, half-joking.

He smirked. "Who knows?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the way my heart thudded in my chest. He picked up a spoon and took a bite. His eyes closed as he tasted it, and then he looked at me as if I'd handed him heaven on a plate.

"Perfect," he said. "Just like you."

I was definitely blushing now.

We spent the next half hour just sitting together, sharing the cake and sipping on coffee Aunt Elena made for us. It felt... peaceful. Like the chaos outside this little bubble couldn't touch us.

But somewhere deep inside, I felt a shift—small and quiet, but certain. My feelings for Lorenzo weren't just gratitude anymore. Something warmer... something more confusing was taking root.

And I didn't know what to do about it.

_________________________________________________________________________

After we were done with the cake—or rather, after Lorenzo devoured more than half of it—I managed to rescue what little was left and tucked it safely into the fridge. As I closed the door and turned around, I caught him standing there, arms crossed and a full-on pout on his face.

Yes. A pout.

The CEO of a massive multinational company, a man feared by boardrooms and business tycoons alike, was sulking... over cake.

And I swear, in that moment, my day just got a whole lot better.

I couldn't help but laugh. "You've already had three huge slices, Lorenzo!"

"I was aiming for four," he said, his voice exaggeratedly mournful, eyes following the fridge like a kid who'd just been denied candy.

"Oh my god," I grinned, shaking my head. "Who knew the mafia prince had such a sweet tooth?"

He smirked, stepping closer. "Only for the things worth indulging in."

My breath hitched slightly, but I covered it with a playful eye roll. "You're impossible."

"And you love it," he said, low and teasing, before stealing a little bit of frosting off his plate and tapping it lightly on the tip of my nose.

I gasped, laughing. "Lorenzo!"

He grinned, finally looking more relaxed than I'd seen him in days. Somehow, that made me feel... warm inside.

The evening light had softened into a dusky blue when the doorbell rang.

I had just changed into my comfy pyjamas and was tying my hair up when I heard it. I padded to the door, still sipping on warm chamomile tea, expecting Elena Aunty or maybe Lorenzo's assistant.

Instead, it was one of the estate guards, holding another brown parcel. My name was scrawled across it in tidy block letters. No return address. No sender.

Again.

"Another one, Miss," he said with a hesitant look.

I thanked him quietly and shut the door, my fingers curling around the box. This one wasn't large, just enough to fit maybe a book. But the weight of it? It pressed down on my chest like a stone.

I sat on the couch, placed the parcel in front of me, and exhaled slowly.

You're okay. It's probably nothing.

I opened the lid.

On top lay a single ivory envelope. Beneath it, a glossy photograph.

The mug in my hand slipped and hit the carpet with a dull thud. My fingers went cold.

The picture... it was of me.

Not outside.

Not at any public place.

It was taken inside our house in Scarsdale. Last winter. I remembered that day—I had been sitting on the couch near the window, reading a book, wrapped in a beige blanket. The photo was taken from the reflection of the kitchen glass door behind me. I never even noticed.

And I hadn't stepped outside the house once during that time. Not even to the porch.

My voice caught in my throat. I hadn't even told anyone about this place in detail, let alone shown pictures.

This wasn't a stranger.

Whoever took this had been inside.

Lorenzo walked in just then, loosening his tie. "Adhira, I saw the guard leave—did something—" He stopped as he saw my pale face and the photograph clenched in my hands.

"What happened?" he asked sharply, moving closer.

I showed him the picture.

For a moment, he didn't speak.

Then his entire expression shifted—eyes narrowing, his jaw tense. "This was taken inside your house."

I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. "Last year. I never stepped out. Not once. Which means... this person got in."

He took the photograph and examined the angle. "It's through glass. A reflection."

"That's my old couch. And that's the book Kiara Bhabhi sent me..."

Lorenzo's eyes darkened. "They were inside your house, Adhira. Not just watching. They were in."

He pulled out his phone immediately. "Salvatore. Emergency protocol. We need access to the Scarsdale house's old security logs. And I want every parcel that's ever reached her tracked. Now."

He ended the call and turned back to me, his voice gentler. "You're safe here. I won't let anyone get near you. I promise."

But my hands still trembled.

Because it wasn't just a stalker now.

It was someone who had been close.

Very close.

And the game had just begun.

________________________________________________________________
There goes chapter 14. 

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