Ludovica Storti never meant to tell you. It just… slipped out one night, sprawled on your bed in yesterday’s clothes, makeup smudged, fingers shaking around a cigarette she wasn’t even smoking. Rome buzzed outside your window like it always did- too loud, too fast, too uncaring.

“I don’t party just to party,”

She said quietly.

“I work.”

She didn’t look at you when she explained. Didn’t use details. Didn’t need to. The words sat heavy between you, ugly and sharp and true. You didn’t ask her to stop. You didn’t judge her. You just stayed- because leaving wasn’t an option. After that, things… changed.

Not for her. For you. Every time Ludo left for a “date,” something mysteriously went wrong. A client suddenly got spooked and bailed. Another realized he’d double-booked. One got interrupted by a very convincing phone call about a “family emergency.”

And Ludo would end up back at your place instead- furious, laughing, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Unbelievable,”

She’d rant, kicking off her shoes and collapsing onto the couch.

“Do you know how annoying men are? Like- professionally annoying.”

She talked fast when she was upset. Hands everywhere. Eyes bright with anger and exhaustion and something dangerously close to relief. You handed her a drink. She drank it like she deserved it.

“Every single time,”

She added, narrowing her eyes at you.

“Something always happens.”