Becoming Mrs DeLuca novel Chapter 79

**Chapter 79**

**VALENTINA**

“I really wish you would stay.”

The words escaped my lips, softer than I intended, barely rising above the sound of Adrian’s suitcase zippers as he hurriedly packed the last of his belongings.

He paused, glancing up from the suitcase that lay open on the bed, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, a testament to the tension in the air. “I wish I could too,” he replied, his voice low and earnest. “But it’s only going to be two weeks.”

I leaned against the doorframe, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, trying to shield myself from the emotions swirling within me. Two weeks sounded fleeting when he put it that way, yet with the weight of recent events pressing down on us, it felt like an eternity stretching out before me.

“I know,” I managed, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “It just feels longer.”

A faint laugh escaped him as he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around my waist, grounding me in his warmth. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured into my hair, his breath sending a shiver down my spine. “You’ve got the kids to keep you busy. Sybil, Elia, and Domenico will be here too. And I promise to call every night.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” I replied, attempting to match the comfort he offered.

But even as I smiled, I could sense the tension simmering beneath the surface. His jaw was just a fraction too tight, and his gaze flitted away from mine, avoiding direct contact for more than a fleeting moment. He had been unusually quiet all morning, his mind seemingly miles away, lost in thoughts I couldn’t reach.

He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead before pulling back, his expression serious. “Promise me you’ll get some rest while I’m gone.”

“I’ll try,” I said, but the uncertainty laced in my voice betrayed my resolve.

“No,” he insisted softly, cupping my chin in his hand, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Promise me.”

There was something in his tone that struck me as off, an undercurrent of worry that I couldn’t quite grasp.

“I promise,” I whispered, the words slipping out more easily than I expected.

He nodded, a hint of relief washing over his features. With one last lingering look, he picked up his suitcase and made his way toward the door. I followed him downstairs, the sound of his shoes clicking against the wooden floor echoing through the foyer.

Stefan and Sofia awaited him by the door, still clad in their pajamas, their sleepiness momentarily forgotten in the face of their father’s impending departure.

“Daddy,” Sofia called, her arms reaching up toward him. Adrian bent down, scooping her into his embrace and planting a soft kiss on her cheek.

“Be good for Mommy, okay?” he instructed gently.

She nodded solemnly, her small hands clutching his collar as if it were a lifeline.

As he set her down, Stefan stepped forward, his expression serious beyond his years. “You’ll call every day?” he asked, a note of concern woven into his voice.

“Every day,” Adrian assured him. “Before you go to bed.”

“Promise?” Stefan pressed, his brow furrowed.

“Promise,” Adrian confirmed, the sincerity in his voice calming his son.

Satisfied, Stefan threw his arms around his father’s waist, a moment of pure affection that softened Adrian’s usually guarded demeanor. He leaned down, whispering something into Stefan’s ear that I couldn’t quite catch, but it made my heart swell with pride.

I smiled, reflecting on how far we had come since the day I married Adrian. Back then, Stefan had barely acknowledged his presence, but now they were sharing secrets, building a bond that I had hoped for all along.

When Adrian turned back to me, the calm mask he wore had returned, but I could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Lock the doors after I leave until Elia and Domenico arrive,” he instructed gently. “And don’t worry about anything.”

“I’ll try,” I echoed, though I felt the weight of my own worries pressing down on me.

“Good girl,” he murmured, kissing my cheek softly before stepping out the door.

I watched him walk toward the car, the early morning light glinting off his dark suit, his silhouette sharp and defined against the backdrop of the rising sun. He didn’t look back.

Once the car disappeared down the drive, the house felt… too spacious, too empty.

With the chill of winter creeping in as Christmas approached, I craved any semblance of warmth. I gathered the kids and the dogs and led them out to the garden, hoping the fresh air would lift our spirits.

Elia trailed behind us, maintaining a respectful distance, his ever-present sunglasses shielding whatever expression he wore.

Sofia was in her element, her laughter ringing out as she chased Milo and Luna around the grass, a stick clutched tightly in her small hands. Meanwhile, Stefan sat cross-legged nearby, focused intently on constructing something intricate from sticks and leaves.

I settled into one of the lounge chairs beneath the sprawling tree, my book resting open on my lap, though I hadn’t actually read a word. The sunlight danced through the branches, casting playful shadows across the pages, but my attention kept drifting away from the words.

Every so often, I glanced up at the house. The windows sparkled in the daylight, reflecting the soft blue of the sky, their glass glinting like polished mirrors.

“You should go play with Sofia,” I suggested to Stefan after a while, hoping to coax him into joining his sister.

He shook his head, still focused on his project. “She doesn’t know how to build. She’ll ruin everything.”

“She’s two,” I replied with a smile. “You have to teach her.”

He looked up at me, a faint smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth, but then he returned to arranging his sticks, clearly unconvinced.

Turning another page in my book, I realized I hadn’t absorbed the last ten pages I had flipped through. My eyes kept darting back to the house, particularly to the line of windows on the third floor.

That part of the house was perpetually dark, even in the brightest sunlight. We rarely ventured up there. Adrian had locked the door, claiming it was filled with old furniture and boxes left over from before the renovation.

Yet, sometimes, I couldn’t shake the feeling he was hiding something more up there.

I shook off the thought and forced my gaze back to the book, trying to immerse myself in the story.

Then, out of nowhere, Milo barked, her stance suddenly rigid, ears perked up as she stared intently toward the house.

I instinctively followed her gaze, my heart racing as I looked up at the third-floor window above the garden.

And there it was.

A figure. Standing still behind the glass.

My breath hitched in my throat.

For a fleeting moment, time seemed to freeze. The children’s laughter faded, the leaves ceased rustling, and even my heartbeat quieted. The figure remained motionless, watching.

For a moment, I thought it was Milo, but when I looked down, he was curled up at the foot of the bed, his chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic pattern.

The room was cloaked in darkness, save for the pale wash of moonlight spilling through the curtains.

I turned my head, and my breath caught in my throat.

There was someone standing at the foot of the bed.

I couldn’t make out her face clearly, but the shape was all too familiar by now. Tall, slender, with hair cascading like a dark curtain around her shoulders.

Serena.

She stood motionless, the moonlight gliding over her cheek, illuminating the hollow of her throat.

My breath hitched. “No,” I whispered, panic rising within me. “No, you’re not—”

But before I could finish my thought, she tilted her head slightly, as if listening, and then a smile spread across her lips.

It was the kind of smile that sent icy dread coursing through my veins.

I wanted to scream, but no sound emerged. My throat felt constricted, and my limbs were heavy, paralyzed by fear.

She reached out a hand, and just as she was about to grasp my leg, I jolted upright, heart racing.

It was a dream.

My chest was damp with sweat, my pajamas clinging to my skin. The room was empty, the curtains fluttering gently in the breeze from the slightly open window.

Milo lifted his head, eyes glowing faintly in the dark, then settled back down.

I pressed a trembling hand over my chest, waiting for my heartbeat to slow. For what felt like an eternity, I sat there in the darkness, staring at the empty space where she had stood.

But when my breathing refused to calm, I made the decision to head downstairs for some water.

I moved carefully, barely hearing the sound of my own footsteps.

The first thing I noticed was that the hallway lights were off. I was almost certain I had left them on before going to bed. My heart raced as I pressed a hand to my chest again, inhaling deeply.

“Everything’s fine, Valentina,” I whispered to myself, trying to quell the rising tide of panic. “There’s a logical explanation for all this. Sybil probably turned off the lights.”

I nodded repeatedly, attempting to reassure myself, and continued down the stairs. By the time I reached the kitchen, I had managed to regulate my breathing, convincing myself that I was merely overthinking.

But as my fingers found the light switch, I felt the calm I had fought for slip away.

The moment my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I let out an inhuman shriek.

Because there, with her back turned to me, dark hair cascading down her back, was a woman seated at the kitchen island.