Page 20

The water feels like an icy embrace against my skin, numbing everything except the slow, aching throb in my chest that is pulsing like a distant drumbeat.

I drift in the rooftop pool beneath a canopy of shimmering stars, feeling the world around me tilt as if I am caught in a slow spin.

Vivid images replay relentlessly behind my closed eyes.

..Ares, that woman, the way he touched her, his hands rough and detached, as though the contact meant absolutely nothing to him. As though he felt nothing at all.

A sharp, twisting pain knots my stomach, a relentless reminder of my own foolishness.

How could I have been so utterly, blindingly stupid?

So naive to let myself believe, believe what, exactly?

That he genuinely cared? That I matter in any significant way in his universe?

All because he saved you a couple of times.

Because he calls you bambina . It’s not a term of endearment.

It literally means little girl , you senseless fool.

“Shit,”

Take a good look at the woman he just fucked and then look at yourself. What could a man like Ares possibly want with an inexperienced, naive kid like you?

Amidst the tumultuous battle raging in my own mind, the sound of footsteps resonates sharply across the terrace, their echoes slicing through the stillness of the night like a knife.

Oh crap. I jerk upright, sending the water cascading chaotically around me, as my heart catapults into my throat, pounding with a sudden, frantic rhythm.

The door opens with an eerie, drawn-out creak, and I brace myself to see who emerges. It’s not Ares. It’s Matteo.

A sense of disappointment washes over me, deflating the hopeful anticipation that had foolishly taken root within me, expecting to see Ares.

Matteo strides across the cool stone patio, his bare feet making soft, rhythmic contact with the surface.

A pair of black swim shorts hangs low on his hips, his skin glistening faintly under the terrace lights, his hair tousled like he’s just rolled out of bed.

His hazel eyes find mine, and for a second, something flickers across his face.

Surprise, amusement, something darker underneath.

Then, a lazy grin curls his lips, cocky and boyish all at once.

“Well, well,” Matteo drawls as he saunters closer, crouching at the edge of the pool so we’re eye-level. His voice is low and teasing, threaded with mischief. “Fossette. Didn’t think I’d find company up here tonight.”

I force a smile, trying not to squirm under the weight of his gaze.

I’m literally in my underwear, lace, white, practically see-through now that it’s soaked and clinging to every curve of my body.

For a second, a beat of embarrassment flares hot in my chest, but I push it down. Because tonight, I don’t want to care.

“That makes two of us,” I murmur, my voice steadier than I feel.

Matteo’s gaze drifts slowly over me, a slow, deliberate sweep that leaves a trail of heat in its wake.

His smirk deepens, but he doesn’t move closer.

He just watches me like he’s waiting for me to make the first move.

“I thought everyone was asleep,” I add, my fingers trailing lazily through the water.

“Is that why you’re swimming half-naked, Fossette?” he teases, his grin widening.

I shrug, tilting my head. “I couldn’t find my swimsuit.”

Matteo chuckles, low and rich. He runs a hand through his hair, the motion making his biceps flex just slightly.

“I’ll have to remember to thank the staff for misplacing it.

” The air between us thickens, charged with something electric.

I drift a little closer, feeling reckless and weightless all at once.

For once, I want to be the one holding the power.

I want to forget, especially what I saw a moment ago.

Matteo kicks off his sandals and dives smoothly into the pool, disappearing beneath the surface with barely a splash. When he pops back up a few feet away, his hair is plastered to his forehead, water streaming down his smooth, bare chest.

He floats closer, arms outstretched lazily, like he’s letting the current drift him toward me.

I tilt my head, studying him through the rippling water. He’s beautiful in that golden, boyish way that should make my heart skip.

It doesn’t. Still, the idea of forgetting, even for a little while, is very tempting.

I also drift closer, the water lapping at our shoulders. There’s only a foot of space between us now, and the tension thickens, humming between our bodies like an electric wire.

“What are you doing up here all by yourself?” Matteo questions, his voice light but laced with something rougher underneath.

I shrug, dipping my chin into the cool water, peeking up at him through my lashes.

“I couldn’t sleep. Needed some air. E tu?

” The words feel strange but satisfying on my tongue.

We circle each other slowly, like planets caught in each other's gravitational pull, our eyes locked, the tension crackling between us.

Matteo’s mouth curves into a lazy, wicked grin. “ Stesso. ” Same.

I bite back a smile. After almost a month living at the Russo estate, the flow of Italian words is starting to sink into me without even trying. I cock my head at him, curiosity flickering inside me. “And what dare I ask has been keeping the golden boy of the Russo manor up?”

“Do you really want to know?” I nod mutely and his grin deepens into something darker. Something more...intimate. “I’m looking at it.”

The breath catches in my throat.

The distance between us feels suddenly too small, too charged. I drift back instinctively, the water slipping between us like silk. Matteo follows, his strokes slow, deliberate, prowling after me like a lion toying with its prey.

He’s dangerous, sure, but not in the way Ares Russo is. Matteo’s danger feels softer...sweeter. It promises stolen kisses and whispered lies. It promises escape. And right now, the way I’m feeling and the way he’s looking at me?

Escape sounds a little too tempting.