Page 63 of My Unexpected Surprise
“I think Livia is connected to Venice.”
There is a short pause on the other end. I can almost see Vaughn leaning back in whatever chair he currently occupies, processing the statement with that sharp mind of his.
“You mean emotionally, sexually, or catastrophically?”
I stare at the darkened window, the lake invisible now beyond the glass. The weight of the day, the touches, the near-misses, and the growing puzzle settles heavy in my chest.
“Yes.”
Vaughn exhales. “Alright. Walk me through it.”
I do. I lay out the details in the precise, ordered way I handle every operation. The interview. The photograph. The slip in my office. The physical reactions. The way Nico looks at me. The way Livia looks at me when she thinks I cannot see. Vaughn listens without interruption until I finish.
The call stretches long into the night as we dissect possibilities and risks. Outside, the estate sleeps under secure watch. Inside the cottage, Livia rests somewhere down the hall with our son. The word slips into my thoughts unbidden. Our son. The possibility changes everything. I end the call withVaughn eventually, but sleep remains elusive. I lie in the dark, mind turning over every interaction, every glance, every denial.
The retreat continues tomorrow. More drills. More forced proximity. More opportunities for the truth to surface. I close my eyes and see Livia barefoot in the kitchen, spoon at her lips, eyes locked on mine. The pull toward her feels inevitable now. Dangerous. Necessary.
Whatever connection exists between us, Venice or otherwise, it is far from over.
Chapter Fifteen
LIVIA
The retreat’s second day ends the way it began: with my nerves stretched thin and my body aching from drills I never trained for. By the time the last evacuation scenario wraps, my legs feel like they belong to someone else.
Dante’s firm pulled something during the final exercise. A last-minute “security audit request” that disrupted our schedule and forced Valentino’s team to scramble. Nothing came of it except wasted time and frayed tempers, but the message was clear enough. He’s watching. He’s pushing. And he knows exactly which buttons to press.
Nico is finally down, exhausted from another day of racetrack diplomacy with the other kids at the lodge. I tucked him in twenty minutes ago, pressed a kiss to his hair, and came out here to find something, anything, to settle the static under my skin.
The cottage’s living area is dim, lit only by the lamp near the window and the blue wash of moonlight off the lake. Valentino stands near the kitchen counter, jacket gone, sleeves rolled, scrolling through something on his phone with the same controlled stillness he carries into every room.
I should go to bed. I know I should.
Instead, I cross my arms and lean against the doorway. “You could have told me about the audit request before I walked into that room.”
He doesn’t look up right away. “It wasn’t relevant to your role in the exercise.”
“Not relevant.” My voice comes out sharper than I intend. “Dante sent a team to crawl through compliance protocols and you didn’t think that was relevant?”
Now he looks up. “I handled it.”
“Of course you did.” I push off the doorway. “You handle everything. That’s the whole system, isn’t it? Valentino handles it, so nobody else needs to know or worry about it.”
His jaw tightens, just slightly. “Would you have preferred I let you walk in anxious for no reason?”
“I’d have preferred you treat me like a person who can handle information instead of a liability you’re managing.”
“You are not a liability.” His voice stays even, but there’s something underneath it now, a tightness in his tone that wasn't there a second ago “You are the reason I spent the entire day recalculating every exit route in this building.”
“Don’t do that.” I step closer. “Don’t make this about keeping me safe. This is about control. It’s always about control with you.”
“Me being in control is the only reason you and your son are safe right now.”
“Don’t bring Nico into this.”
“You brought him into this the moment you walked into my office.” The words land harder than he probably means them to, and I watch a flash of regret flicker across his face.
I should walk away. There’s a version of this night where I do exactly that, where I turn around and disappear down the hallway
