Chapter 89
Aria’s POV
The morning light poured softly into the room, casting golden shapes across the wooden floor. The silence in the ranch house felt too loud. I sat at the edge of the bed, legs curled up, arms wrapped around my knees. The soft white dress I wore was wrinkled from how I had slept–if you could call it sleep. My eyes burned from crying the night before. I hadn’t even brushed my hair.
I heard the door open quietly, followed by soft, measured steps.
Enzo.
He didn’t speak at first. Just stood there for a moment like he was reading the room–reading me. He wore a dark olive shirt that hugged his broad frame and dark jeans with boots that made soft thuds on the wooden floor. His hair was still wet from a shower, pushed back neatly. His eyes, always so intense, softened when they landed on me.
He came over and knelt in front of me. His large hand gently found my knee, the warmth of his skin grounding me.
“I hate seeing you like this,” he said, voice low and steady.
I blinked down at him, feeling suddenly fragile under his gaze. “I’m fine.”
“No,” he said. “You’re not. And that’s okay.”
I looked away, but he reached up and lightly touched my chin, guiding my eyes back to his.
“You don’t have to be strong here, Aria. Not with us.”
My throat tightened. I didn’t trust myself to speak.
Enzo stood slowly and leaned forward, wrapping me in a strong, warm hug. His arms were solid, comforting, and I closed my eyes, breathing him in–earthy, fresh, familiar. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe.
When he pulled back, he smoothed my hair gently.
“We’ll be back soon. Don’t shut us out, okay?” he said.
I gave him a small nod. That was all I could manage.
Then the door opened again. Dante.
He was dressed sharply, as always–navy shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and black trousers. His presence filled the room. Always so composed, so hard to read.
He walked up, his gaze locking with mine. “You look like your mind’s a million miles away.”
“Maybe it is,” I whispered.
He stepped closer, stopping just in front of me. His fingers reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.
“Let them say what they want,” he said quietly. “But you belong here. With us.”
My eyes stung. I nodded again, not trusting my voice.
He didn’t say more–he didn’t have to. With one last look, both brothers left, the soft thud of the door echoing behind them.
1/3
Chapter 89
I sat in silence for a while longer. Then came another knock.
“Aria,” Matteo’s voice called, lighter than the others.
I wiped my face quickly and opened the door. He was leaning against the frame, wearing a casual black hoodie over a white t–shirt and joggers. He looked effortlessly relaxed.
“Come on,” he said, a spark in his eyes. “We’re going somewhere.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see. Just get dressed. Something light and cute.”
I blinked at him, confused but curious. “Why?”
He smiled. “Because you need to remember what it feels like to breathe.”
Ten minutes later, I had thrown on a soft pink blouse and light denim jeans, slipping into sandals and brushing my hair. When I stepped outside, I spotted him near the field–next to a black helicopter.
My eyes widened. “Matteo–what?”
He gave me a look. “You trusted me, right?”
I nodded, stunned. “Yeah, but…”
“No buts. Come on.”
We flew across the sky, the ranch getting smaller as we rose. The world stretched wide and quiet beneath us. Matteo sat beside me, sunglasses on, hand close to mine on the seat. Our pinkies brushed, sending a strange warmth up my arm.
We landed on a grassy cliffside overlooking a still, glittering lake. Wildflowers danced in the breeze. A blanket had been set on the grass with a small picnic basket.
“You planned this?” I asked, stepping onto the soft grass.
He shrugged, grinning. “Kind of. I had help.”
We sat down, and I bit into a strawberry, the sweetness waking something in me. I watched the wind play with Matteo’s hair, how the sunlight
kissed the side of his face.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked suddenly.
His smile faded, replaced by something more serious. “Because I see you, Aria. I see how strong you are. And I see how much you hide.”
I looked down, my throat tight again. “It’s just… hard. Pretending it doesn’t hurt.”
“You don’t have to pretend.”
He reached over, fingers brushing my cheek. The gentleness made me shiver.
“You’re not invisible,” he said. “Not here. Not with us.”
I swallowed hard. His eyes were on me–warm, steady, full of something I couldn’t name.
My gaze flicked to his lips before I could stop myself. He noticed.
2/3
Chapter 89
“Can I…?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded.
His lips met mine softly. Not rushed. Not greedy. Just… honest. A warm, slow kiss that told me everything I needed to hear without a single word. My hands gripped his hoodie as his fingers moved to my waist, pulling me closer. My body reacted before my mind caught up. I melted into him, losing track of where I ended and he began.
When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested gently against mine.
“I should probably apologize,” he said with a half–smile.
“Don’t,” I whispered. “I didn’t want you to stop.”
He brought his thum up to my lips feeling it You always taste so sweet, both lips” he smirked
I hit him playfully laughing, my cheeks gettingheated“Matteo”
He kissed me again, slower this time. And again.
His lips grew more urgent against mine, the soft warmth turning hotter, hungrier, I felt his hand slide up my back, fingers curling into my blouse, while the other cupped my jaw, tilting my head just enough to deepen the kiss. My own hands clung to his hoodie, tugging him closer, needing the closeness, the reassurance in every touch. His tongue brushed mine and I gasped softly into his mouth, my heart thudding like it was trying to break free. His hand slipped to my waist, pulling me onto his lap until there was no space left between us, only heat and breath and want. Then–his phone buzzed, loud and sharp between us. He didn’t move. Just kept kissing me like nothing else existed. But it buzzed again. I pulled back slightly, breathless. “You should answer,” I whispered, even though I didn’t want him to. He exhaled, forehead pressing against mine. “I don’t want to.” “Still… you should,” I said gently. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing mine as he pulled the phone out and glanced at the screen. After a few quiet moments, he ended the call and looked back at me, something unreadable in his eyes. “We need to head back,” he said softly, brushing a stray hair from my face. “They’re waiting.”
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