In Niccolo Rossi's car
They didn't talk much on the way. He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other on the gear shift, jaw clenched, eyes fixed. Kali, now dressed but still wearing his jacket, felt small... but not weak. Just... uncomfortably protected.
"Are you okay?" she finally asked.
"No." His answer was blunt, dry. "I'm pissed. The idea that someone thinks they can humiliate you like that makes me sick."
"Nicco..."
"And you, walking around in just a towel. Do you know what could have happened?"
"I didn't do it for fun!" she snapped, crossing her arms. "I was just looking for my damn clothes."
He let out a long sigh and pressed the gas just a little harder.
The Rossi mansion was on the outskirts of Aarush. A grey stone house with endless gardens, white columns, and an iron gate that opened just by approaching. Inside, the contrast was stark: marble, modern art, high ceilings. Everything pristine.
"I kind of hate you," Kali muttered as she walked in. "How am I supposed to not feel like a beggar in this place?"
"Don't be ridiculous. You make any place look more expensive," he replied, closing the door behind her.
Kali sat on one of the living room sofas. Her hair was still damp, her legs curled up beneath the borrowed jacket. She glanced at him.
"Thanks for defending me. But I'm okay now. I don't want you getting all worked up because of me."
"I can't help it. It's you," he said, slowly walking toward her.
They fell silent for a few seconds. The tension was thick enough to cut.
"You know what's worse than seeing you in a towel in front of the whole gym?" he asked in a low voice.
"What?"
"Seeing you like this... and not being able to do anything about it."
Kali swallowed hard. Her heart pounded like crazy.
"You could have. No one's stopping you," she whispered with a mischievous smile.
"No. But you are. You've always drawn that invisible line. And I respect it. Because I know when I cross it... there'll be no going back."
Kali stared at him. Her breathing was uneven, her skin still damp, her body too close to his.
"What if I want you to cross it?" she said, barely a whisper.
"Not today. Not like this. I want you to give me permission with your whole body, not on a whim from one night."
Kali closed her eyes, both frustrated and grateful.
"You're an Italian torture device, you know that?"
He chuckled softly.
"And you're a walking fantasy. But if we're going to explode, let's do it right."
...
Meanwhile, Dahlia was walking alone through the streets of Aarush. The wind blew hard, tossing loose strands of her hair. She was distracted, scrolling through her phone, when she bumped into someone.
"Ah, shit!" she blurted, stepping back.
"Whoa, sorry, didn't see you," came a warm, deep male voice.
Dahlia looked up—and froze.
In front of her stood a tall guy with a strong jaw, brown eyes, and stylishly messy dark hair. He had headphones around his neck and a folder under his arm.
"You okay?" he asked, flashing a half-smile.
"Yeah, yeah... just... wasn't expecting..."
"To crash into me? Happens a lot. I'm like a magnet for accidents," he joked.
She let out a nervous little laugh.
"I'm Tobias," he said, extending his hand.
"Dahlia."
Their hands touched. And something... pulsed. A subtle but unmistakable spark.
"See you around, right?" he added, before walking away.
Dahlia didn't answer. She just watched him go. And for the first time since arriving in Aarush, she felt her heart beating for something that wasn't fear or pain.
It was... something else.
A spark. A beginning.