Chapter 43
Theo and Daphne
At the bustling ski lodge nestled high in the snow-covered mountains, Theo and Daphne stood near the equipment racks, surrounded by skiers gearing up for a day on the slopes. Daphne, bundled in a sleek, navy-blue ski suit that complemented her pale skin and dark eyes, frowned down at the unfamiliar skis. Her cheeks were already flushed from the cold air and frustration, a wisp of breath fogging up in front of her as she pouted.
Theo, towering beside her in his black ski jacket, crouched down to help her with the bindings. His hands, strong and steady, adjusted the clasps on her boots. "You just need to slide your foot in andâ"
"I am sliding it in!" Daphne interrupted, her voice tinged with exasperation. "It's not supposed to be this complicated. Why can't I just... float down like in those winter movies?"
Theo glanced up, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "Because this isn't a movie, princess. And floating doesn't count as skiing."
She shot him a glare, her lips twitching into an almost-smile. "Easy for you to say. This is like... torture boots on slippery planks."
With a soft chuckle, Theo stood up. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch gentle against the biting wind. "You'll get the hang of it. Trust me."
Daphne's shoulders relaxed slightly as she looked into his eyes, a reluctant grin breaking through her annoyance. "Fine. But if I fall, you're carrying me back down."
Theo smirked, leaning in close. "Deal." His breath was warm against her ear and his kiss even warmer. "But don't think I won't make fun of you for it."
Daphne rolled her eyes, finally slipping her foot securely into the ski.
Theo smiled as he guided Daphne to her feet, steadying her with a firm grip. His eyes sparkled with a teasing warmth that softened the sharp angles of his usual stoic expression. "Ready, baby?" he asked, the words laced with both encouragement and challenge.
Daphne shot him a look, her eyes narrowing slightly. "No, not really," she muttered, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. Then, with a deep breath and a determined set to her jaw, she added, "But what the hell, let's go."
As they made their way toward the lift, the snowy path crunching under their boots, Daphne's grip on his arm tightened. Each step felt like a leap of faith, and Theo could feel the tension in her fingers, a silent plea for reassurance. His heart swelled with a surge of protectiveness, the corners of his mouth lifting in an unguarded smile. She wasn't the type to admit fear, but she also wasn't one to back down from a challengeâand that's what he loved about her the most.
"Hey," he said softly, pausing to look into her eyes. "One trip down, and then we'll head to the sky lounge. I'll keep you toasty and warm, promise."
Daphne's lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "Bribing me with hot chocolate and a warm fire? Clever."
Theo leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Anything to keep you happy." His eyes searched hers, an unspoken depth behind the words.
Daphne swallowed, her cheeks turning pinkânot just from the cold. She exhaled a small, shaky laugh. "You better not let me fall, Silvano."
He grinned, a rare, genuine softness breaking through his usual intensity. "Never."
As the lift approached, Daphne's grip on his arm didn't loosen. If anything, it grew stronger. And Theo welcomed it, knowing he wasn't letting go of her anytime soon.
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Mason and Wendy
At the base of the ski lift, the hum of chattering skiers and the distant swoosh of skis on snow filled the crisp mountain air. Wendy adjusted her goggles, glancing toward Mason, who stood a few feet away. His gaze was fixed on the ground, arms crossed over his chest, clearly uninterested in whatever small talk she might offer.
Determined, Wendy took a deep breath and approached him. "Hey," she began, her voice carefully light. "I heard you are an expert skier."
Mason barely nodded, his eyes fixed on the incoming lift chairs. The silence stretched between them, his cold silence as daunting as the steepest run.
Undeterred, Wendy glanced over her shoulder and saw Lily approaching with their lift tickets. Without missing a beat, she swapped places with Lily, stepping forward just as the chair swung around. Before Lily could protest, Wendy slid into the seat next to Mason, her smile determined.
"Oops," she looked back. "Sorry, Lilybit."
Mason rolled his eyes as his sister lifted her goggles and grinned from ear to ear.
"Guess it's just us now," Wendy said, pulling the safety bar down with an air of finality.
Mason stiffened but didn't look at her. The silence hung heavy between them as the lift carried them higher, the ground falling away below. Wendy watched him for a moment before speaking.
"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" She asked.
He let out a small, disbelieving laugh, still staring straight ahead, "I don't see why you care so much."
"I do care," Wendy insisted, her voice soft but firm. "I don't like people being mad at me."
He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. "People pleaser much?"
Wendy crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Maybe."
Mason's smirk grew into a grin. "Look at you, Tinman. You have a heart."
Before she could respond, he shifted abruptly, making the lift chair sway. Wendy's eyes widened in alarm, her hands shooting out to grip the safety bar tightly.
"Stop that!" she exclaimed, her voice edged with genuine fear.
Mason frowned, noticing the panic in her eyes. "Stop what?" His tone softened, confusion giving way to concern. He leaned closer, searching her face. "Wait... Are you... afraid of heights?"
Wendy's grip on the bar tightened, her knuckles white. She avoided his gaze, staring straight ahead. "Just don't do it again," she muttered, her voice strained.
Mason's expression shifted, the teasing light in his eyes dimming. "Wendy..." His voice was quieter now, almost gentle.
Wendy swallowed hard, forcing a shaky breath. "It's not something I advertise," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, the silence between them shifted, the tension easing like snow melting under a gentle sun. Mason watched her, his usual bravado fading. "I won't let anything happen to you," he said, his voice low and sincere.
Wendy finally glanced at him, her eyes softening. "You better not."
He held her gaze, the intensity in his expression quiet but unwavering. "Promise."
Wendy attempted a small smile, the corners of her mouth lifting just slightly. "Look at that," she murmured. "You learned something else about me."
Mason's lips quirked into a faint, lopsided grin. "Guess I did." His eyes held hers a moment longer, the usual sharpness replaced by something gentler. "Not what I expected."
Wendy's smile grew a little wider, her grip on the safety bar relaxing. "I'm full of surprises."
He shook his head, a quiet chuckle escaping. "Yes... you are, firecracker."
_______________________
Theo and Daphne
In the warmth of the fancy sky lounge, Theo and Daphne sat near a crackling fireplace, the golden glow dancing across their faces. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a breathtaking view of the snow-capped peaks, the world outside a cold, shimmering contrast to the cozy, intimate space inside.
Theo leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on Daphne with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. His fingers traced lazy circles on the back of her hand, a subtle but persistent gesture that sent warmth radiating through her.
"You are a natural skier," he murmured, his voice low and smooth, "I don't think I've ever enjoyed a ski trip this much."
Daphne's heart fluttered at the way he looked at her, like she was the only person in the room. She took a sip of her drink, trying to mask the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You say that like you've had dozens."
Theo leaned closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "None quite like this," he whispered, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. "None with you."
The air between them seemed to thicken, every word, every touch, weaving a spell she couldn't resist. Daphne felt her defenses crumbling, the walls she'd so carefully built slipping away. In the beginning, she'd promised herself she wouldn't fall for himânot reallyâbut here she was, feeling herself being drawn deeper and deeper, unable to fight the pull.
Theo's gaze softened, his eyes searching hers. "You're thinking about something," he said, his voice gentle. "Tell me."
Daphne hesitated, her heart pounding. "It's nothing," she whispered, but the look in her eyes betrayed the truth.
Theo tilted his head, a knowing smile playing at his lips. "I can see right through you, you know," he murmured. "You don't have to hide from me."
Something in his words, in the way he looked at her, made her chest tighten. She'd been so careful, so guardedâbut with Theo, it felt different.
As Daphne looked at him, Theo's gaze shifted and his relaxed demeanor wavered. His eyes locked onto a figure across the lounge. Sitting in the far corner, nestled in the shadows, was a man Theo recognized all too well. The casual luxury of the room didn't touch the sharp edges of this moment; an unspoken tension settled over Theo like a heavy cloak.
Daphne paused as she felt the subtle change in him. The warmth in his eyes cooled, replaced by tension she didn't recognize. Theo's shoulders, which had been loose and relaxed, tensed, the muscles coiling like springs ready to snap.
He stood slowly, his movements precise but stiff. "Excuse me for a moment," he said, his voice low.
Daphne's brow furrowed in concern. "What is it?" she asked, her eyes searching his face for answers.
Theo's jaw tightened, his gaze flicking back to the man in the corner. "Stay here," he murmured, leaning down to press a quick, reassuring kiss to her temple. It felt more like a promiseâor a shieldâthan a gesture of affection.
As he straightened, the air around him seemed to thrum with a dangerous energy. Every step he took toward the far side of the lounge was deliberate, the usual confidence in his stride laced with something darker.
As Theo crossed the room, his heart beat a little faster, though his expression remained composed. Each step felt heavier than the one before. The familiar, hideous scars on the man's face brought back too many memories of Del Mare and summers that ended too quick. The lounge's ambient warmth seemed to vanish, replaced by a cold, sharp edge that cut through the air.
The man with the scar looked up slowly, his gaze a sharp blade that sliced through Theo's carefully maintained calm. The cold, calculated glare pinned him in place, each second stretching out as if they were locked in a silent battle of wills. The scar twisted as the man's mouth curled into a half-smirk, a cruel mockery of a smile.
Theo clenched his fists at his sides, forcing his muscles to relax as tension coiled tighter in his shoulders. He knew better than to show weakness, his father had taught him better. The lounge around them seemed to blur, fading into an irrelevant background, as his mind honed in on the man before him.
The man waited in his seat like a predator assessing its prey. His eyes never left Theo, every flicker of emotion masked beneath a veneer of icy control.
Theo's cleared his throat, managing a casual and respectful tone. "Hello, grandpa. Didn't expect to see you here."
Angelo's scowl deepened, the scar on his face twisting into something almost sinister. "How many times have I told you not to call me that?" he snapped, each word cutting through the air like a blade.
Theo's jaw tightened, every instinct on high alert. He could feel Daphne's eyes on him from across the room, a silent question hanging between them. But he couldn't look back. Not now. If Angelo had been like any other normal grandfather, Theo would have loved to introduce him to her.
But Angelo was far from normal. Bitterness radiated from him like a dark cloud, seeping into every interaction. Neither Luca nor Gia spoke to him anymore. They had severed ties long ago, making every effort to keep him out of their lives. The only reason Theo and his siblings even knew about him was due to those unfortunate encounters back in Del Mareâencounters that had left scars of their own.
Angelo had always been cruel and nasty, but there was something about Theo that seemed to trigger a particular venom. Theo had felt it his whole life, the weight of Angelo's disdain pressing down on him like a shadow. Today, though, the tension was thicker, the animosity almost palpable.
Theo stood there for a moment, the weight of Angelo's words settling heavily on his shoulders. He could feel the venomous gaze boring into his back, every fiber of his being screaming that this conversation was a lost cause. There was nothing to be gained by engaging further; Angelo would only twist the knife deeper.
I tried, Theo said to himself. His jaw tightened as he turned on his heel, ready to walk away. He'd barely made it a few paces when a soft voice interrupted.
"Mr. Silvano?" A waitress approached with a polite smile. "Your table is ready, sir."
Theo opened his mouth to respond but Angelo's snicker cut through the air like a blade, the sound low and mocking. "Mr. Silvano," he repeated, the words dripping with disdain and he laughed.
Theo's spine stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides. Angelo's hatred had always been thereâa shadow that followed Theo everywhereâbut today, it was almost suffocating.
"Why the hostility?" Theo slowly turned back to look at the old man, forcing an edge of nonchalance into his voice, though his fists were clenched tight at his sides. "You don't treat the others like this. All my life, you signled me out. Why?"
Angelo's eyes glinted, a dangerous light flickering behind them. He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, venomous whisper. "You don't know, do you?"
"Know what?" Theo asked.
Angelo's thin lips curled into a cruel, almost triumphant smile. His eyes, cold and piercing, locked onto Theo's. "You don't belong, boy," he hissed, each word slow and deliberate. "It boils my blood to see you carry my family name. A name I have worked years to establish and my son just gave it away."
The words hit Theo like a physical blow, knocking the breath from his lungs.
"What are you talking about?" Theo asked, his voice strained, though he fought to keep it steady.
Angelo's twisted smile widened, a cruel satisfaction in his eyes, "Maybe this is what I have been alive for all these years."
Theo's fist clenched. He took a step closer wondering what the crazy man was saying.
"You're not Luca's real son," Angelo spat out. "You're not his blood. You're not my blood."
The room seemed to tilt, the air thickening with an unbearable weight. Theo's heart hammered in his chest, but he forced his expression to remain neutral.
"What?" He asked.
Angelo leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, the satisfaction of a predator playing with its prey. "You belong to your mother. Luca raised you, but you were never his. Just a reminder of her past."
"You're lying," Theo's head spun and his chest tightened. "You're really fucked in the head."
"Lying?" Angelo laughed, the sound bone chilling. "For once, I have the courtesy of telling the truth. You've spent your whole life clinging to a name that isn't yours. Silvani. What do you know about being a Silvano. You are a nobody!"
Theo's fists clenched tighter, his nails biting into his palms. "Why should I believe you?" he shot back, though his voice wavered. Memories of his childhoodâthe cold stares, crashed over him in a torrent.
Angelo's gaze bore into him, unflinching. "Ask Luca. If he has the courage to admit it." The old man's voice dripped with disdain. "Ask him who Eric Anderson was."
The words cut deeper than any blade. Theo felt the room close in, the noise of the lounge fading into a dull hum. He tried to breathe, to steady himself, but the foundation of everything he'd known felt like it was crumbling beneath him.
Without another word, he turned away, his steps heavy and hollow. Daphne's concerned gaze met his as he approached, but he couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye. All he could feel was the shadow of Angelo's words, wrapping around him like a vice.
"I don't believe you," Theo said through this teeth. His hands trembled as he glared at the man before him.
Angelo laughed, the sound low and bitter. "Believe what you want," he sneered. "But know that you will never be a real Silvano. You are a no body, you should have died like you father. You don't belong in the circles you move around in. You are worthless and without the family name, you would be nothing."
Theo's eyes burned with a mix of fury and something deeperâa churning storm of confusion and betrayal. Angelo's words hung heavy in the air, an insidious poison that couldn't be ignored. Everything Theo thought he knew about his family, about himself, was unraveling. And across the room, Daphne watched, her concern growing. But for Theo, the world had just shifted on its axis, and nothing felt certain anymore.
....oh boy