Lesson 10 – Confronting Cara

“Why didn’t I see it?”

Cara gritted her teeth. She had been trying to get the blade before her pristine for the better part of the afternoon, hoping that the ritual itself might rid her of the churning thoughts crowding her mind.

“Damn it. I am so stupid. I should have known.”

She could see it even with her eyes closed. That damned katana—the very one she had searched for so long. Its saya was unmistakable: dark, imposing, mocking her from the place it hung, displayed so shamelessly in Signor Massimo Conti’s office.

That serpent-edged golden tsuba.

The missing sageo.

Her gaze dropped to her wrist.

The crimson-woven sageo she had worn for seventeen long years—never replaced, never forgotten.

She had spent countless nights forcing herself to remember every detail of that murderous weapon.

People might change over the years.

But blades did not.

She was so close now. She had found him.

Yet—

With a sharp exhale, she flung the uchiko she had been tapping against the blade. It struck the bench with a hollow clatter before rolling across the floor.

“Damn it! I should have known!”

“What should you have known?”

Alessandro’s voice came from behind her.

She jolted. In one swift motion, she was on her feet, the blade still in hand, turning sharply towards him as if in defence.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, gripping the tsuka with shaking hands. “I believe my work on your wakizashi was finished.”

Alessandro, taken aback by the hostility in her voice, stepped into the dim workshop. He glanced around, noting how she had not even bothered to switch on the lights, despite the gloom.

“Do I need a reason to visit my beautiful girlfriend, Cara?”

Her chest clenched.

The blade slipped from her grasp and struck the floor with a faint clink.

“It’s too dark in here,” he said quietly. “How can you even see what you’re doing?”

She didn’t look at him. Bending down, she retrieved the blade.

“Just—go. Leave me alone, Alessandro.”

Her voice trembled, but she did not falter. She set the wakizashi carefully onto the low working kake before crouching to retrieve the uchiko from beneath the bench.

She couldn’t bear it.

Why did it have to be him?

Why did she have to fall in love with the son of the man whose blade had haunted her dreams ever since—

Alessandro stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Stay away from me!”

She shoved him back—almost elbowed him—hard enough to make him stumble a step. Hurt flashed across his face, confusion close behind.

“What’s wrong, Cara?” he asked softly. “What’s the matter?”

He reached for her again, tentatively. She recoiled.

“I—can’t.”

His expression tightened.

“Have I done something to offend you?” He stepped closer. “Cara, please. You’ve been avoiding me all week. What’s happened? Just tell me.”

She clenched her teeth.

“Just go. I can’t do this anymore.”

In an instant, he closed the distance and pulled her into his arms.

“Is this because of my family?” he demanded quietly. “My father? Is that what this is about?”

She shoved him again, but this time he held firm.

“Let go of me! We can’t be together like this anymore!”

“Why?” he pleaded. “Can’t you at least tell me why?”

She struggled against him, heat and panic rising in her chest, her thoughts tearing at her sanity.

“Why did I have to love you?” she cried. “Why did it have to be you?”

She struck his chest in her desperation, her blows weak against his strength.

“Let go! I can’t be with that bastard—”

“Cara!”

Delia’s voice cut through the room from the doorway to the adjoining dojo.

Cara froze.

Alessandro released her at once, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Please,” he said, turning to Delia. “Talk some sense into her. She isn’t herself.”

Free at last, Cara crossed the workshop, passing the worn wooden benches—some bearing polished blades, others shrouded in cloth—and slipped out through the rear door, her breath coming fast and uneven.

Alessandro stared at Delia, dumbfounded. Delia lowered her gaze, unable to meet his.

“It’s best you leave, Signor Conti,” she said in a voice devoid of any emotion. “And forget about us.”