Grimaldi's Sin & Secret

Nicolo sat frozen, eyes locked on the laptop screen in front of him. It was his father’s computer, and something disturbing was playing.

His eyebrows drew together in confusion, and his mouth slowly dropped open as he tried to process what he was seeing.

On the screen, a man and a woman were in bed—clearly having s*x. The video was shaky, like it was secretly recorded. But what shocked Nicolo the most was the man’s face.

He looked exactly like him.

“That’s not me!” Nicolo blurted out, his voice rising in panic. He stepped back a little, as if trying to get away from the image on the screen.

His father, Ezio Grimaldi, sat across the table, arms crossed and expression stone-cold. “The video says otherwise, Nick. Are you really going to deny that’s your face in that video?”

“Dad, listen to me—it’s not real! That’s not me!” Nicolo said quickly, his heart pounding in his chest. “I’ve never filmed anything like that. I don’t even know who that woman is!”

He ran a hand through his hair.

“People can do anything with videos now. There are apps that can paste someone’s face onto another body. It could be deepfake or edited—anything!”

Ezio’s jaw tightened. He shook his head slowly. “I can’t believe this, Nick. You know our family is always being watched. You should’ve been more careful. Even if it’s fake, the damage is already done.”

“I am careful!” Nicolo shouted back, voice cracking. “That’s exactly why I know it’s not me!”

Just then, Nicolo’s mother, Asti Grimaldi, stepped in. She had been standing quietly near the doorway but now moved between her husband and son.

She gently rubbed Nicolo’s back, trying to calm him down. “Let’s not jump to conclusions, Ezio,” she said. “I believe Nick. Someone might be trying to ruin his name. He wouldn’t do this. He’s not that kind of boy.”

Ezio looked at her, still clearly frustrated, but didn’t argue. He let out a long sigh and rubbed his forehead. “We’ll investigate,” he said finally. “If it’s fake, we’ll find proof. And when we do, I’ll make sure whoever did this pays. But until then, Nick…” he paused and looked at his son seriously. “…you need to lay low. Don’t talk to anyone from the press. Don’t post online. Don’t give interviews. Nothing. The media’s going to come after you hard. We can’t let them twist your words.”

Nicolo frowned. “So you want me to just be quiet? Won’t people think I’m guilty if I don’t say anything?”

“It doesn’t matter what they think right now,” Ezio said sharply. “Saying the wrong thing could make things worse. Trust me—we’ll fight this the smart way.”

Nicolo crossed his arms deep down he knew his father was right. There wasn’t much he could do at this point.

Ezio continued, “While this is ongoing, I’ll take over your responsibilities at the company. Leone will help me. You…” he pointed gently toward his son, “…either stay at home, or go to your condo. Better yet, leave the city for a while. No parties. No late nights. No appearances. Understand?”

Nicolo closed his eyes for a moment, then gave a small nod. He knew there was no winning this argument.

He turned around and left his father’s office, his mind spinning. His feet felt heavy as he walked toward his room, completely drained from the intense conversation.

Just as he reached for the door handle, he heard a voice from behind him.

“Nick?” a girl called softly.

Nicolo turned around when he heard the voice.

As soon as he saw who it was, the tension on his face faded. His lips curved into a small smile.

Standing in the hallway was his younger sister, Sofia. She looked sleepy, dressed in her soft pink pajamas, with a stuffed toy tucked under one arm.

“Sofia,” Nicolo said gently. “It’s already midnight. Why are you still awake?” He kept smiling, but a slight frown showed in his eyes.

Sofia took a step closer. “You argued with Dad again, didn’t you?” she asked. “I heard him shouting.” She looked up at her older brother, waiting for an answer.

Nicolo sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to tell her the real reason. She was too young to get involved in something like this.

“It’s nothing,” he said quietly. “Just some business problems. Don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep, okay?”

Sofia tilted her head, clearly not satisfied with the answer—but she didn’t push.

“Okay,” she said softly. She walked up to him, stood on her toes, and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Nick.”

Nicolo gave her a small nod. “Good night, Princess.”

He waited until she disappeared into her room before turning back and entering his own.

Once inside, he closed the door gently behind him and let out another long sigh. He walked over to his bed and dropped onto it, not bothering to take off his shoes. He lay there for a few seconds, staring up at the ceiling in silence.

Then, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Nicolo glanced at the screen.

He picked up the call. “Yeah?”

“I saw the video,” his cousin said right away. His voice was cold, distant—typical Luca. He was always like that. Calm, serious, and sometimes hard to read.

Nicolo didn’t reply right away. He just closed his eyes.

“Your dad’s already looking into it,” Luca continued. “He called my dad earlier.”

“It’s not me,” Nicolo said quietly.

“I know,” Luca replied. “You’ve got that tattoo on your upper arm. The guy in the video doesn’t. But of course, most people won’t notice that. They’ll believe what they see.”

Nicolo stayed silent.

There was a pause on the line. Then Luca spoke again. “…Pierce called. He wants to hang out. Come with us.”

Nicolo opened his eyes slowly. “Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s go somewhere quiet. I don’t want to end up in another scandal just for being outside. I’ll tell Leone I’m going.”

“Alright.”

The call ended.

Later that night, Nicolo met up with Luca and Pierce at a small bar far from the busy city. The place was tucked away in a quieter area—nothing fancy, just dark lights, loud music, and cheap drinks. It wasn’t the kind of bar they usually went to, which made it perfect.

No one really paid attention to them. Most of the people were too busy drinking, dancing, or flirting.

As the three of them sat in a corner booth, Pierce leaned back in his seat and let out a loud laugh.

“I honestly thought Nick wouldn’t show up,” he said, grinning. “You’ve got a scandal hanging over your head, man! Props to you for still having the guts to go out.”

“F*** you, Pierce,” Nicolo snapped, glaring at him. “If you’ve got no one else to bother because Damiano’s not here, don’t start with me.”

Pierce only laughed harder. Luca just sat quietly, sipping his drink and watching them both.

Nicolo grabbed the bottle in front of him and poured himself a glass. He didn’t care what it was. He just wanted something strong—something that might help him forget, even for a little while.

He drank quickly, then leaned back in his seat, staring at nothing.

Minutes passed. The noise of the bar kept growing louder, but Nicolo wasn’t really listening anymore.

He stood up.

Luca looked up at him. “Where are you going?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nicolo glanced back with a tired expression. “I’ll behave. Don’t worry.”

That was all he said before walking away.

He headed over to the bar counter, leaned against it, and waved the bartender over.

“Something stronger,” he said. “Don’t care what. Just make it burn.”

When the bartender placed the drink in front of him, Nicolo didn’t hesitate. He picked up the glass and took a deep sip, finishing nearly half in one go. The sharp taste of alcohol burned his throat, but he didn’t flinch. He welcomed the sting—it gave him something else to feel, something other than frustration and shame.

Just then, a soft voice spoke beside him.

“Another order of Negroni, please.”

Nicolo glanced sideways, curious. The voice was female—smooth, calm, and confident.

His eyes landed on a woman standing a few feet away. She had shoulder-length wavy hair, the kind that looked effortlessly elegant. Her skin looked smooth and glowed faintly under the bar’s dim lights. She wore a simple black dress that hugged her figure in all the right ways.

Nicolo raised an eyebrow slightly. ‘Exactly my type,’ he thought to himself.

He bit the inside of his cheek, debating whether or not to say something. His night had been rough so far—maybe this was his chance to escape the stress, even if just for a while.

He watched her as she took a sip from her glass. There was no flinch, no hesitation. She drank it like it was water.

“You have pretty good taste in drinks,” he said casually, the words slipping from his mouth without much thought.

The woman turned to him slowly, lowering her glass. Her eyes met his. For a moment, Nicolo froze. She was even more stunning up close—soft, elegant features, and an expression that was both kind and mysterious.

“Oh,” she replied with a small smile, “I guess I’ve just gotten used to it.”

Nicolo chuckled lightly. “Takes a strong person to get used to Negroni.”

“I take that as a compliment,” she said, her voice playful but shy.

Nicolo leaned slightly closer, his smile growing more relaxed. “I’m Nicolo, by the way.”

The woman set her drink down and extended her hand. “Freah.”

He shook it gently. Her hand felt warm and smooth.

They started talking, first about drinks, then about travel. Freah told him she wasn’t from around here—just in the city for a few days. Vacation, she said. Trying to enjoy herself.

Nicolo listened more than he spoke, something rare for him. Her voice was soothing, and her laughter had a calming rhythm. Even as the bar grew louder around them, their conversation stayed quiet and close—like they were in their own little world.

Time slipped by without them noticing. The air between them had grown warmer, more charged.

Nicolo glanced at her, noticing the soft flush on her cheeks. She looked back at him with curious eyes, lips slightly parted as if waiting for something.

He leaned in just a little.

“Want to go somewhere quieter?” he asked.

Freah held his gaze. Her red lips curved into a small, teasing smile. “I like that idea.”

They both stood up. Nicolo gently placed his hand on her waist, and she didn’t pull away. Together, they made their way out of the bar, walking side by side into the night.

The city was quiet around them. It didn’t take long to find a nearby hotel. Neither of them said much. The connection was already there, silently understood.

Inside the hotel room, the door closed softly behind them. Nicolo turned to her, and their eyes met once again.

This time, he leaned in and kissed her—slow at first, then deeper, more certain. She kissed him back without hesitation, her hands resting gently on his chest.

The rest of the night unfolded naturally, shaped by emotion, connection, and the simple need to forget the outside world.

Nicolo bit his lower lip as his fingers brushed gently over the soft fabric of her underwear. The moment his touch reached a more sensitive area, he felt her body react—she gasped, a quiet sound of surprise and pleasure escaping her lips.

“Please…” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling slightly. “I want this. I’m begging you.”

Her words hit him deeply, stirring something powerful inside him. The need between them had grown too strong to ignore. Without a word, Nicolo let go of everything else and focused only on her.

He slowly removed the last of his clothes, his heart pounding in his chest. As he moved closer and positioned himself between her legs, ready to be fully with her, something made him pause.

His eyes widened slightly. “Wait… Are you—?”

She bit her lip and looked away, embarrassed but not pulling back. Her silence answered his question.

Nicolo blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, he just stared at her. He hadn’t expected this. He could see the nervousness in her eyes now, mixed with trust… and something else—something vulnerable.

Still, neither of them spoke about stopping.

He reached out gently, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face. “It’s okay,” he said softly, his voice low and sincere. “I’ll be gentle. I promise.”

She nodded once, slowly. A tear slipped down the side of her cheek. He wiped it away tenderly.

He leaned in and kissed her again, this time not out of passion, but comfort.

As the moment deepened between them, Nicolo focused on making sure she felt safe. His touch slowed, softened. He listened to her body, watched her eyes, and made sure she never felt alone in what they were sharing.

They moved together quietly, wordlessly, as if everything else around them had disappeared. For a while, there was no scandal, no fear, no cameras or judgment—just the two of them, caught in something raw and real.

By the time it was over, Nicolo laid beside her, chest rising and falling, mind clearer than it had been in days.

He looked at her—this stranger who now felt oddly close—and wondered what tomorrow would bring.

But for now, in the silence of the hotel room, he allowed himself peace.