Chapter 8 Why?

Ten days later, in Italy... After landing at the airport with Rossi, the bodyguard who had once followed her on the bus in Vegas, Rose found herself ushered to a sleek black luxury car waiting outside. Quietly, she got in without asking questions or making any comments. The ride took her to a sprawling white mansion surrounded by a vast, picturesque garden. Stepping out of the car, Rose followed the bodyguard into the mansion. A middle-aged housekeeper approached her with a welcoming smile. “Mr. Sofph instructed me to prepare a room for you. He should return shortly,” the housekeeper said. “A room?” Rose asked in fluent Italian, frowning in confusion. She turned to Rossi. “What does she mean by a room? I thought we were supposed to discuss the job first.” “My orders were to bring you here. That’s all,” Rossi replied. “Martha will show you to your room.” Rose nodded silently. She chose not to question further. Staying at the mansion seemed like a practical choice—it would save her money, which she could put toward her aunt’s treatment. The guest room, located in one wing of the mansion, was modest by the estate’s standards, yet larger than her bedroom back in Las Vegas. As she walked in, she noticed her luggage had already been placed neatly in one corner of the room. The view from the window revealed a beautifully maintained garden full of vibrant flowers and towering trees, a sight that soothed her mind. “Miss Martha?” Rose called out in perfect Italian, not realizing that the person who walked in wasn’t the housekeeper. Antonio stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, watching her with a raised eyebrow. “You speak Italian? Why didn’t you tell me?” Startled, Rose turned to him. “You never asked.” Her tone was calm, as if the answer were obvious. Since graduating high school, where she had taken Spanish, she had pursued Italian classes despite her aunt’s protests that it was unnecessary. She had continued learning in secret, and now it seemed to be paying off. “Is that so?” Antonio replied, clearly intrigued. “Yes,” Rose answered, switching seamlessly to Italian. Antonio said nothing more, walking into the room. “Stay here for now. Once you get your first paycheck, if you want to move elsewhere, I won’t stop you.” Rose glanced at him; her tone neutral. “Thank you.” “If there’s nothing else, we’ll begin work tomorrow. I’ll have one of my people explain your duties to you,” he said before turning to leave. “Wait,” Rose called after him. Antonio paused, raising an eyebrow as he turned back to face her. “Why did you offer me this job?” she asked hesitantly. “I mean, I’m grateful, but I’d like to know.” Antonio’s expression remained unreadable as he stepped closer. “My company needed someone for the position, and I thought you’d be a good fit.” “I see. Well, thank you,” Rose said, her voice soft. “Get some rest,” Antonio said before leaving the room. Antonio returned to his office and sank into his chair, letting out a quiet sigh. He cursed himself silently, questioning his decisions. Was it loneliness that made him feel this way? He had resolved not to get too involved, but he found himself going out of his way for her. No, he told himself firmly. It wasn’t that. Knock, knock. The sharp sound jolted Antonio from his thoughts. He looked toward the door as Rossi stepped in and placed a file on his desk. “Here’s the report on the casino, sir,” Rossi began. “There have been suspicions of human trafficking. Some individuals have tried to approach your establishment for illegal auctions, and there are also insiders attempting to cooperate with them.” Antonio’s expression hardened immediately. His one inviolable rule for his casinos was clear: no human trafficking. “Investigate thoroughly,” he ordered, his voice icy. “And keep this confidential. I won’t have my business tarnished.” “Yes, sir” Rossi replied, his tone resolute. “Rossi,” Antonio continued, his voice quieter now. “About Vega... how far have you gotten? Any news of her?” Rossi’s expression turned grim. It had been three years since Vega had disappeared without a trace. Despite his best efforts, there was no sign of her. “Nothing, sir. No leads at all.” “Understood. You may go,” Antonio said, dismissing him with a wave. “Yes, sir,’ Rossi said, turning to leave. Once again, silence filled the room. Antonio leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as a wave of exhaustion washed over him—not from work, but from the emotional burden he carried. Hours passed as he remained alone in his office, lost in thought. His gaze eventually fell on the picture frame sitting on his desk. Reaching for it, he stared at the image of a woman with a delicate, beautiful face—Vega, his first and only love. His heart ached as memories flooded back. Why had she left him? In the end, she had only left a letter before vanishing from his life. It had been three long years of searching and waiting, but she was still nowhere to be found. “Why did you leave me, Vega?” Antonio whispered, his voice filled with anguish as he stared at her picture. His hand trembled slightly as he held the frame, his emotions raw. The memory of her smile, her voice, and their time together haunted him, refusing to fade away.