Chapter 176
Aria’s POV
I woke up with the kind of peacefulness I hadn’t felt in what felt like months. The sheets were soft, warm from the sun peeking through the curtain, and the faint scent of coffee drifted through the air. For a second, I didn’t even move. I just lay there and let the quiet wrap:
paround me like a blanket.
I was wearing one of Matteo’s shirts–huge on me, but soft and comforting. I stretched a little, my limbs sore in that good way, like after a long, deep sleep or a perfect workout. My sketchbook was on the nightstand. A half–finished drawing of yesterday’s fountain sat open, reminding me it had actually happened. We had gone out. We had laughed. We had lived like normal people.
I padded to the kitchen, barefoot, and found Enzo already making tea. Dante stood near the fridge, shirtless and quiet, flipping through his phone. Matteo was sitting on the counter like a kid, cereal box in one hand, spoon in the other, chewing noisily.
“You look like a cartoon character,” I said to Matteo, smiling.
He grinned through a mouthful of cereal. “You love it.”
Enzo handed me a cup of coffee, just the way I liked it. “Sleep okay?”
I nodded. “Like a rock.”
Dante looked up. “Good. We were thinking maybe we could go out again today. Somewhere quiet. More olive trees and less gelato this time.”
“Speak for yourself,” Matteo muttered.
I laughed, curled into one of the chairs, and sipped my coffee slowly. The morning felt easy. Comfortable. Like we had finally earned a small slice of peace.
–
I didn’t realize how much I’d missed just existing like this not hiding, not running, not looking over my shoulder. Just breathing. Just being. The sunlight poured into the living room through the tall windows, painting the floor in long golden lines. Matteo was humming something off–key in the kitchen, Enzo was flipping through a book on the couch beside me, and Dante… he was by the balcony, leaning against the frame, drinking his espresso like the world wasn’t as complicated as it actually was. I curled up tighter in my blanket and smiled to myself. It wasn’t loud or exciting, but it was warm. Gentle. Safe. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let my guard down completely. My phone was on the table beside me, forgotten for a while, and all’I could think about was how maybe, just maybe, this could be my new kind of
normal.
After breakfast, I grabbed my sketchbook and wandered out to the balcony. The view was beautiful–rolling hills, the rooftops of nearby villas, sunlight dancing on distant vineyards. I sat on the little chair with my legs curled beneath me, pencil in hand, sketching whatever caught my
eye.
For a while, I just watched them. The way Enzo turned pages so slowly like every word mattered. The way Dante stood by the balcony with one hand in his pocket, the breeze brushing his dark hair back, his jaw tense but peaceful for once. And Matteo barefoot in the kitchen, dancing terribly to music only he could hear, flipping something in a pan that probably wasn’t meant to be flipped – made me laugh quietly to myself. I sat there with my sketchbook open on my lap, my/pencil still in my hand, but I wasn’t drawing anymore. I was just soaking it all in. The way the afternoon light made the air look golden. The way their voices wrapped around each other without tension for once. I felt soft, grounded, like I could finally breathe again without checking the corners of the room first. No shadows. No threats. Just… peace. And I didn’t even realize how rare that feeling had become for me until I was right there in the middle of it. My heart felt still. My body didn’t ache with fear. For the first time since arriving in Italy, I didn’t feel like I was waiting for something bad to happen.
Matteo suddenly leaned over the back of the couch and dropped a kiss on my forehead without warning. “You look too serious,” he said, smirking. “I think you need emergency gelato therapy.” I laughed, swatted at him weakly, but secretly leaned into the warmth of that small
touch.
I wouldn’t say no to that,” I said, smiling up at him. Matteo raised an eyebrow like he’d just won something. “Say less, he replied, already heading for the kitchen like it was a mission. Dante looked over his book, amused. “You spoil her,” he muttered. Matteo just grinned and called over his shoulder, “She’s worth it.” And just like that, my heart squeezed again. They made it so hard not to fall deeper.
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Chapter 176
That’s when I decided to check my phone.
I hadn’t looked in days. I hadn’t wanted to. It was easier to pretend the outside world didn’t exist. But something inside me whispered to foole
The screen lit up.
Missed calls. Unknown numbers. Random voicemails.
And then I saw it.
Cassandra.
My heart skipped.
It was just one message.
“Aria… please.”
Just two words. But I read them over and over.
I sat there, completely still, as the world continued around me. The pencil slipped from my fingers. I hadn’t spoken to Cassandra since the night I left. She wasn’t supposed to have this number. None of them were.
I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. My mind was already racing. Was she in trouble? Or worse… was she being used to get to me?
Later that night, after dinner and too many rounds of cards with Matteo (he cheated, I was sure of it), I was alone in the living room. The lights were low. My sketchbook rested beside me, and a soft song was playing on the speakers.
My phone buzzed.
Once.
Then again.
Unknown number.
I stared at the screen. My stomach twisted.
I pressed the answer button.
“Hello?”
There was a pause.
Then a voice I hadn’t heard in years.
A voice I had buried.
“Aria… it’s me. Your mother.”
I froze.
The world tilted.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
Chapter 176
Aria? Are you there?”
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.
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