Serena's POV

What was he doing here?

I stared at that message for a long time until the screen went dark on its own.

Carlo wouldn't show up at the university for no reason. The Valdoro Island mafia godfather wasn't exactly the type to drop kids off at school.

I didn't reply, rolled over, and forced myself to sleep.

The next morning at seven-thirty, cafeteria.

I bit into my toast, watching Mia settle across from me with a plate piled high with scrambled eggs and bacon, my peripheral vision catching several black sedans parked at the school gate, their windows tinted with privacy film—clearly someone important.

"What are you looking at?" Mia asked, half a croissant stuffed in her mouth as she glanced in the direction I was staring, then immediately pulled the croissant out. "Which wealthy parent is this? The last time I saw this kind of setup was when they invited VIPs for the opening ceremony."

My phone was still quiet in my pocket. Probably not Carlo.

During the break between second period classes, my phone finally vibrated.

Carlo: [Library third floor. West reading room.]

I stared at the message. The west side of the library's third floor, the most remote corner of the entire building, a place no one usually went.

He chose that location because he didn't want to be seen.

Should I go?

My finger hovered over the screen, but if this was about my father, I stood up and headed out.

At the far end of the reading room, Carlo sat by the window.

Dark gray trench coat. Black turtleneck. In front of him lay a copy of "Bellavista Baroque Architecture" thick enough to kill someone. At first glance, he looked like a visiting scholar.

But he hadn't turned a page in three minutes.

I sat down across from him.

He slowly looked up, his gaze sweeping from my uniform collar to my cuffs, pausing briefly on the school crest on my chest.

"What did you want me here for?" I set my bag on the table.

He closed the book. "Last night at eleven twenty-three, Adams called Vera. Eleven minutes total."

I waited for him to continue.

He looked at me too, as if waiting for my reaction.

I couldn't help but respond. "That's it?"

Carlo pressed his lips together slightly, his throat moving as he swallowed, then continued, "They used disposable phone cards. The signal was encrypted. My people only intercepted the call record, couldn't get the content."

What a coincidence.

I'd just arrived at school and Adams contacted Vera. Their connection was closer than I'd imagined.

"When did you start monitoring him?"

"Your father's enemies are worth watching." He took a box from his coat's inner pocket and pushed it toward me.

I opened it with confusion. A pair of elegant pearl earrings, the creamy white color I liked.

"You're giving me earrings?"

A hint of amusement appeared in Carlo's eyes, very faint, like ripples on a lake surface, quickly disappearing.

"This is a listening device. The right one, press for three seconds to activate. Forty-eight hour battery life, six-meter audio range."

He glanced at me before continuing, "The left one is paired with it, to make them look matching."

Would a mafia godfather really consider the symmetry of earrings?

I wasn't sure.

But it also kind of made sense.

"Let me see."

I reached out, and when my fingers touched the earring, they also touched his palm.

His skin was somewhat dry, warmer than mine.

That moment, I felt slightly burned.

Carlo's fingers slowly tightened, then relaxed, his expression very calm.

He seemed unbothered by this small incident.

As he picked up his water glass to drink, I lowered my head to examine the earrings, using it to ease the awkwardness in my heart.

"Wear them when you're near Adams," he suddenly said.

"Okay." I put the earrings away.

Carlo stood up, returned the architecture book to the shelf, and headed out.

As he passed me, his footsteps paused briefly.

"Does the uniform fit?"

What kind of question was that?

I still answered, "It fits."

"That's good."

He left.

I sat in place, looking down at the pearls in my palm, touching my earlobe.

Actually, the earring size was also right.

Including before at the Morandi estate, those clothes all fit well.

As if they were custom-made for me.

It shouldn't be.

But it had happened.

I stopped pursuing the thought further.

Two in the afternoon, I came out of the academic building.

The autumn campus looked beautiful, sycamore leaves fallen all over the ground.

"Serena?"

Professor Adams stood across the path, briefcase in hand.

"You look good. Your stepmother would be very happy to see you like this."

When Vera was mentioned, I looked at his face.

The upward curve of his mouth perfectly synchronized with the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. The zygomatic and orbicularis oculi muscles contracted in coordination. A standard Duchenne smile, the genuine kind.

Either he was sincere, or his disguise skills were two levels higher than mine.

I leaned toward the latter.

"Yes, I wanted a change of environment." I showed a polite smile.

"Your father always said you'd be suited for here." Adams patted my shoulder. "If you have any difficulties, come find me anytime. After all, I watched you grow up."

As he turned, my gaze dropped two inches.

Left ring finger, at the base there was a circle of lighter-colored skin, the edge clear.

Only long-term ring wearing would leave that kind of mark.

But he wasn't wearing one now.

The file said he was single, Mia said he had a mysterious girlfriend, but his ring finger had a missing ring.

Unmarried with a girlfriend wouldn't be worn on the ring finger.

Had he been married?

Or that ring had some other meaning.

I watched him walk away, carving this detail into my mind.

Six in the evening, the sky darkened.

I came out of the library, walking along the stone path on the east side of campus toward the dorm. This route passed through some low shrubs and an abandoned old laboratory building. The lighting didn't reach here.

Twenty steps out, there were footsteps behind me.

Not my imagination.

The rhythm was half a beat slower than mine, the distance constant. I sped up, it sped up. I slowed down, it slowed down.

I didn't look back.

My palms started sweating. I adjusted my breathing, pretended to search through my bag, my peripheral vision sweeping toward a glass storefront.

In the reflection—a guy in a baseball cap. The brim pulled very low, hands in pockets, following about twenty meters behind me.

Couldn't see his face.

I turned into the cafeteria. Dinner rush hour, voices everywhere. I squeezed into the crowd, circled out through the kitchen passage, hid in the darkness by the trash cans and looked back.

Baseball cap stood at the cafeteria entrance for a few seconds, looking left and right, pulled out his phone to make a call.

Less than ten seconds, hung up, turned and disappeared into the crowd.

I memorized him—about five-ten, narrow shoulders, right foot turned outward when landing.

I waited five minutes to confirm it was safe before heading back to the dorm.

Closed the door. Mia wasn't there.

I took out my phone and messaged Carlo.

[Someone followed me today. Male, about five-ten, baseball cap, right foot turns out. Followed from the library to the cafeteria, made a phone call then left.]

The message had barely sent when there was a reply.

Carlo: [Got it.]

I frowned. That's it?

Immediately another one came.

Carlo: [Starting tomorrow, don't walk alone at night.]

I stared at the message, something lodged in my throat.

Not fear. More like a strange sense of security. Someone was watching. Someone was responding. I wasn't alone.

I pushed that feeling down.

After showering, I sat on my bed and opened my notebook.

Reviewing the character relationship diagram again: Adams—Vera—Father—eight million—shell company—and Carlo, who somehow had all this information.

I drew a circle next to Adams' name, added new information: ring finger mark. Married? Divorced?

If Adams was married, then Vera was a mistress, not a girlfriend.

The underground relationship between a married man and a married woman was far more dangerous than an ordinary romance.

Had Father discovered this and become suspicious of Vera?

But based on my understanding of Father, he wouldn't be wary of Vera just because of this.

No. Tomorrow I needed to find a way into Adams' office.

Mia had mentioned he had a photo frame on his desk, the picture facing inward.

I needed to see if the person in that photo was Vera.