Chapter 28

Zara’s POV

THE NEXT MORNING

Waking up with the ghost of his mouth still on mine was the first thing that hit me, before the light filtering through the curtains, before the dull ache behind my eyes.

Matteo’s kiss lingered like a bruise I couldn’t see but felt it everywhere. His breath, the warmth of his hands on my waist last night/ The way his mouth had moved like it already knew mine made it even worse to handle in my head.

I groaned softly and rolled onto my side, dragging the pillow over my head.

‘Idiot,’ I thought bitterly.

‘You absolute idiot.’

I stared at the wall for a long time, replaying the moment where I should’ve pulled away. Where I should’ve slapped him instead of melting at the taste of his lips. Where I should’ve remembered every reason I was angry at him.

Instead, I’d let him kiss me. And worse, I’d kissed him back.

I shoved the covers off and sat up, running a hand through my hair roughly. My heart felt too loud in my chest, my thoughts tangled just like my hair looked. All messy and tangled from sleep.

‘This couldn’t happen again. I wouldn’t let it.’

I showered quickly afterwards, scrubbing my skin like I could wash the memory off. When I stepped out, I dressed without much thought, my usual jeans, a loose top, nothing that drew attention. Hair pulled back. Face bare. My cold expression back in place.

I moved quietly through the hallway, every step cautious, hoping I get past the door without any drama. I didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to risk another look, another moment of tension that made my chest do strange, traitorous things.

I slipped down the stairs, holding my breath when I passed the living room. And just like I wanted, it was empty. I grabbed my bag and headed straight for the door.

“Miss Zara?” Marco’s voice startled me just enough to make my heart jump and I turned, forcing a neutral expression. “Morning.”

He studied my face for a moment. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I replied.

He nodded, then opened the door for me. “The car’s ready.”

I didn’t look back as I stepped outside, glad that I got past the door without having to dump into him.

The drive to school passed in a blur and I just sat there in silence, trying not to reminisce on what had happened the night before. With my eyes tired, my mouth set in a line that didn’t quite hide the turmoil underneath.

Sofia spotted me the moment I stepped through the gates of the university.

“There you are!” she said, rushing over. “I was starting to think you’d vanished again.”

“I’m here,” I said quietly.

She looked me over with an eyebrow raised. “You okay?”

“You always ask me that, don’t I look okay?” I said, following suit from behind her, headed toward the building together when something slammed into my back.

It slams so hard that I gasped, stumbling forward, barely managing to keep my balance and laughter erupted behind me.

I turned slowly. Alex stood there, a bright red dodgeball at his feet, flanked by two of his friends. His black eye had faded slightly but was still very much visible.

“We’re so sorry, honey!” he called out mockingly. “Slipped right out of my hand.”

My hands curled into fists as anger swirls in my veins from disgust and anger.

Sofia stepped forward. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Alex shrugged, with a smirk firmly in place. “Relax. It’s just a game.”

But I didn’t say anything, instead I just stared at him, my jaw tight, chest burning from anger.

“Come on,” I muttered to Sofia, pulling her away. As we walked, I could feel their eyes still on my back, their laughter following me like a stain.

“Assholes!!” She cursed.

The day slowly kicked on. The first class was so unbearable for some damn reason. Or probably because my day was already ruined by Alex and his goons.

I sat rigid in my seat, with my shoulders tense, trying to focus on the lecture. Every whisper in class felt aimed at me, every laugh sounded louder than it should have.

But then, something hit my arm and then I looked down to find a folded piece of paper lying on my desk.

Almost instantly, my stomach sank and then I unfolded it slowly to find handwritten words.

WHORE!!

And before I could stop myself, I slammed the paper down on the desk, the sound echoing loudly through the theater.

The tutor looked up, brows raised. “Were you about to say something, Miss?”

Heat rushed to my face. “No,” I said quickly. “Sorry.”

He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Since you’re clearly alert, perhaps you can answer this.”

My heart dropped as he gestured to the board. “Explain the core difference between international jurisdiction and domestic enforcement.”

My mind scrambled. I knew this. I mean I did. But the room felt like it was closing in, eyes boring into me from all sides.

I swallowed. “International jurisdiction refers to um— the authority that extends beyond a single nation-state, while domestic enforcement is confined within— within national boundaries.”

He tilted his head. “That’s vague.”

I tried again. “Domestic enforcement relies on internal legal mechanisms, whereas international jurisdiction often depends on treaties and cooperation between—”

He held up a hand cutting me off. “That will do.”

Which somehow felt worse than outright criticism. I sank back into my seat, cheeks burning from embarrassment, nails digging into my palm.

“You’re a genius though!” Sofia teased from behind me, but I ignored her, feeling overly pissed that I had to be picked.

The rest of the day crawled by, bringing more whispers and more glances. Even worse were the laughter that stopped the second I looked up.

By the time the final class ended, my nerves were frayed thin. I packed my bag quickly, avoiding everyone’s eyes, and followed Sofia out.

“You handled that better than I would’ve though. Honestly,” she said softly.

“I guess exchange students here don’t get treated nicely,” I admitted adjusting the strap of my bag. But then she squeezed my arm smiling at me “They’re just a bunch of weirdos.”

I wanted to believe her. But as I walked toward the car waiting at the curb, I couldn’t shake the feeling that for some reason now, it felt like I made a bad decision choosing to come to Italy.

And somewhere deep down, beneath the anger and embarrassment, one thought kept resurfacing, unwanted and unsettling.

Matteo. And that scared me more than Alex ever could.