WRITER'S POV:
Ivy stood in the driveway of the luxury condo compound like she had wandered into someone else's life—and possibly their nightmare.The woman with the silver-streaked curls hadn't moved. She was still staring at Ivy like she was inspecting a questionable antique.Then it hit her.
The jawline. The cool, deliberate way of speaking. The eyes—sharp and dark and assessing.
Oh my God, Ivy thought. That's his mother.
Cassius didn't introduce her. Didn't offer context. Just stood there like he was already exhausted.
Then came the shift—the quick volley of muttering, heavy sighs, and clipped Italian that sliced the air like broken glass."Perché non sei venuto al funerale di tuo zio?" his mother snapped.Cassius responded flatly. "Perché sei in quella casa."Ivy didn't need to be fluent to get the gist. Something about a funeral. An uncle. And apparently, Cassius refused to return home because his mother was there.
Family therapy was not thriving in this household.They moved toward the house, still muttering back and forth in Italian like the air was made of grudges. The front doors opened without anyone touching them, and a wave of cold air and opulence greeted them like a slap.
Monday walked beside Ivy now, hauling luggage like it was part of his personal vendetta.
He nudged her lightly with his elbow. "Told you. Should've found Jesus."She didn't respond. Just followed silently, trailing behind Cassius and his stormcloud mother.Inside, the house was too beautiful to be warm. High ceilings. White stone floors. Art that probably cost more than Ivy's annual salary. It didn't feel like a home. It felt like a warning.Maids moved along the edges of the hallway like shadows, glancing at Ivy with side-eyes full of suspicion, curiosity, and a little fear. One dropped a cloth. Another froze when Cassius's voice echoed down the marble hall."Mettila in una delle stanze degli ospiti. Non quella con la finestra rotta."(Put her in one of the guest rooms. Not the one with the broken window.).
Ivy stepped forward, suddenly desperate to know anything.
"Am I actually... staying here? I mean, where should I—"Cassius didn't even glance at her. Just kept walking with his mother, whose scoffing could likely be heard three postcodes away.The door at the end of the hall closed with an expensive-sounding click.Ivy stood thereAloneAgain.
In a house full of people who looked at her like she was either a mistake or a bomb
And honestly, she wasn't sure which she was yet.