The following morning, I wake early, nerves thrumming with anticipation. I step out of my room, determined to let Stefano know I have to leave. To my surprise, a suitcase sits at the edge of the stairs, and curiosity prickles my skin. Who could it belong to?
“Are you going somewhere?” I ask as Stefano descends the stairs, his expression unreadable.
“Are you ready?” he counters, ignoring my question.
“For what? And you didn’t answer me.” Confusion furrows my brow.
“Samuel, get someone to take her bags downstairs,” Stefano calls out, striding into the kitchen without a backward glance.
“Stefano!” I hurry after him, frustration simmering in my veins.
He sighs heavily, turning to face me, coffee cup in hand. “Do I have to explain everything to you?” He sets the cup down on the counter wi
