Chapter 18 - Morning Light
The next morning, the bright autumn sun broke over the Langhe hills, painting the nebbiolo vines in brilliant shades of amber and gold.
Luna was the first to wake up. Yawning and rubbing her sleepy eyes, she padded out of her bedroom in her small yellow pajamas, her bare feet pattering softly against the parquet floor.
As she stepped into the hallway, something shiny caught her eye.
She stopped, blinking. Right outside her door sat a delicate, tarnished silver box with intricate engravings of blooming roses along its rim.
Luna knelt down, her curiosity immediately overcoming her sleepiness. She reached out and lifted the hinged lid.
Clink-clink, ting-a-ling...
A sweet, crystalline melody filled the quiet corridor—an old, gentle Italian lullaby that hadn't been played in this house for nearly four years.
Elena rushed out of the bedroom, tying the belt of her robe, her eyes wide with alarm. "Luna? What is—oh."
Elena stopped dead in her tracks as the music box played its final, echoing note. She stared down at the antique silver, recognizing the crest of the Santoro family engraved inside the lid. She knew whose room this had come from. She knew what it meant.
Slowly, Elena lifted her gaze down the long hallway toward the grand staircase.
Standing near the landing, half-hidden in the morning shadows, was Matteo Santoro. He was watching them quietly, his hands resting in his pockets, his gray eyes carrying a profound, quiet warmth that the estate hadn't seen in a lifetime.
May you like
He didn't speak. He simply gave a single, imperceptible nod of his head, turned, and walked back toward his study.
Elena clutched the fabric of her robe, her eyes swimming with sudden tears. She looked down at Luna, who was smiling brightly, enchanted by the magical music box playing in her small hands.
