Bloodline and Boundaries

Lucia De Rossi stood in the doorway like a verdict.

Tall, elegant, and glacial in a pearl-hued coat that probably cost more than Aria's yearly tuition, she didn't need to speak to command the room. Her presence alone sucked the air out of it. Aria felt herself straighten involuntarily, hands smoothing over her dress like she was the one who needed to impress.

"Lucia," Luca said, voice low but firm.

"Don't Lucia me," she replied coolly, eyes still pinned to Aria. "I asked for her, not you."

Maria glanced at Aria like she needed a life vest. Eva, still barefoot in a robe, stood stunned near the staircase.

Aria swallowed and stepped forward, refusing to cower. "I'm Aria. You wanted to speak with me?"

Lucia's gaze swept over her from Aria's bare feet to the slight swell of her belly beneath the soft fabric of her dress. She didn't hide her disdain.

"Alone," she said.

Luca moved fast, stepping between them. "That's not going to happen."

His voice held the kind of steel Aria had only heard in business meetings, when his jaw locked and the air thickened. But Lucia didn't flinch.

"Luca," she said, calm and crisp. "I didn't fly ten hours to be spoken to like a shareholder. You can stay in the room if you must, but don't interfere."

He didn't move. Aria touched his arm lightly. "It's fine. I want to hear what she has to say."

She didn't. But she needed to. Aria had felt the pressure growing between Luca's silent moods, the whispers at school, and now this woman who clearly thought she was disposable.

Lucia walked into the sitting room like she owned it, settled onto the couch, and crossed her legs gracefully.

"You're carrying my grandchild," she began, direct as a scalpel. "Let's dispense with the pleasantries."

Aria didn't sit. "I didn't think we were exchanging any."

Lucia's lips twitched whether in amusement or irritation, it was hard to tell.

"I'm here," she said, "because this arrangement, whatever it was supposed to be, has already spilled too far into the public. The press has begun circling. The university rumors are spreading. Our family name is being dragged through message boards like some late-night tabloid scandal."

Aria's hands clenched at her sides. "I didn't ask for attention. I didn't post anything. I didn't even know his last name was De Rossi until it started circulating."

Lucia ignored the jab. "You're young. That much is obvious. But I assumed you were smart."

Luca moved, stepping between them, voice cutting. "Enough."

But Aria's voice rose first. "No. She wants to talk? Let's talk."

Lucia arched an elegant brow.

"I'm not here to steal your fortune or trap your son. I didn't come knocking on your penthouse with a sob story. He offered a contract. I signed it. End of story."

Lucia stood slowly. "Contracts can be rewritten."

"What are you suggesting?" Aria asked tightly.

"I'm offering you freedom," she replied, taking out a slim envelope from her coat. "Walk away now. Quietly. Before the child is born. The foundation will ensure you're set for life. Anonymity. Comfort. No drama. No headlines."

Aria's heart pounded. "You want me to disappear?"

"I want to protect my family's legacy. And my son. You're a complication."

Silence fell, sharp and breathless.

Aria's hand drifted protectively to her belly. She wasn't sure if it was instinct or defiance.

Then she smiled, the bitter kind. "You think I'm a problem because I'm not one of you. Because I didn't come from money or old names or whatever brand of ice you built your dynasty on. But let me be clear, Mrs. De Rossi, I'm not afraid of you. And I'm not going anywhere."

Lucia's expression didn't falter. "You'll regret that."

"No," Luca said, voice dark and cold. "You will."

Aria turned to him in surprise. His hand was on her back now, gentle and grounding, but his eyes were on his mother — and they weren't kind.

"This child," he said, voice razor sharp, "is mine. And Aria isn't going anywhere unless she chooses to. Not now. Not ever."

Lucia blinked. Once. Then turned smoothly toward the door.

"This isn't over," she said.

Luca's grip tightened subtly on Aria's back. "It already is."

The door closed behind her with the softest click but it sounded like a gunshot in the stillness.

Eva let out a breath from the hall. "Okay, that was straight out of a soap opera."

Maria muttered a prayer in Italian under her breath before disappearing into the kitchen.

Aria didn't move. Her legs were shaking.

Luca turned to her slowly. "You didn't have to stand there and take that."

"Yes, I did," she said quietly. "She needed to see that I'm not just a womb with a price tag."

His eyes softened. "She doesn't matter."

"She matters to you," Aria said, stepping back. "And she's not wrong about the rumors. People are talking. Girls at school say I'm your bought girl. That I signed my soul away."

His jaw flexed. "I'll shut it all down."

"No," she snapped. "You can't fix this with money or threats. Not this time."

"Then what do you want me to do?" he asked, tone sharper than he meant.

She didn't answer.

Because she didn't know.

She just knew she felt small. And judged. And suddenly more exposed than ever before.

"Aria" he started, but she cut him off.

"I need space," she whispered, turning toward the hallway. "I need to think."

He didn't follow.

The evening bled into night. The apartment was quiet, too quiet. Eva had gone out to give her time. Maria stayed in the kitchen. And Luca?

He hadn't knocked.

Aria curled up in bed, one hand on her belly. The baby kicked gently, a reminder of everything that tied her to this life. To this man. To this future she wasn't sure she chose anymore.

Her phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

She hesitated, then opened it.

"You don't know me, but we need to talk. Luca isn't who you think he is."

Her stomach dropped.

Another message came through.

"Meet me tomorrow. No guards. No cameras. If you care about your future, come alone."

Aria stared at the screen, pulse thudding.

This wasn't just gossip now.

This was war.

And she had no idea who was really holding the match.