Chapter 29

Zara’s POV

I didn’t expect the house to feel this quiet. And when I say I mean the sort that made your shoulders tense before your brain could explain why.

My heels clicked softly against the marble floor as I stepped inside, closing the door behind me with more care than necessary.

I dropped my bag by the console table and exhaled, rubbing my temples from the stress I had for the day. That even my head still throbbed faintly, the residue of a long, emotionally draining day clinging to me like smoke. All I wanted was my room: a nice shower and the usual silence.

I had barely taken two steps toward the stairs when I heard it. A sound, faint, but closeby. Glassware clinking from the kitchen.

And I froze.

My breath caught halfway in as my gaze snapped toward the kitchen area. The lights were on, had they been on when I walked in? I couldn’t even remember. My heart in my chest began to pound, each beat loud in my ears as I slowly turned my body in that direction.

“Who’s there?” I called, my voice softer than I intended but for a second, nothing happened. And then—

“Zara?”

The sound of my name hit me like a shock that I was startled for a second. I sucked in a sharp breath and stepped forward, rounding the corner into the kitchen.

And then, there she was. Rosa. Standing by the counter, a glass of water in her hand, hair loose and familiar, eyes wide before they softened into something bright and almost relieved.

“Oh my God,” Rosa breathed.

She stared at me like she couldn’t quite believe I was really coming back home this early, then suddenly she was moving fast, closing the space between us before my brain could even catch up.

“Zara!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a hug.

I stiffened for half a second from pure surprise before instinct took over. I hugged her back, though my arms felt awkward around her, my mind scrambling.

“Rosa?” I pulled back slightly, staring at her face. “What, what are you doing here?”

She laughed lightly, like the question was nothing.

“What do you mean? I live here too… well, sort of.” She shrugged, then smiled at me again. “God, it’s so good to see you again.”

I frowned. “You disappeared.”

The words came out before I could soften them and her smile flickered, just for a second.

“I know,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean to. Things just… came up.”

“What things?” I asked with an arched brow.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Family stuff. You know how it is.”

I didn’t. But I nodded anyway. There was a strange tension settling between us, but for some reason I ignored it. Rosa busied herself by turning back to the counter, picking up the glass she’d abandoned.

“I was hoping you’d be home,” she said over her shoulder. “I didn’t want the first person I saw to be—”

She stopped and then I felt it before I even heard it, footsteps echoing from a distance.

The air shifted in seconds, as the room had tightened around us and then I turned just as Matteo stepped into the kitchen doorway.

He looked… imposing, as always. Dark suit jacket still on, sleeves rolled slightly, jaw tight from some sort of anger. His gaze moved from Rosa to me and back again, assessing and then he stopped when his eyes landed on Rosa.

“What are you doing here?” he asked coldly.

The warmth drained instantly from the room, and Rosa on her end turned slowly, her expression faltering. “Matteo,” she said, forcing a smile. “Hi.”

But his eyes didn't soften.

“I asked a question.”

“I—” Rosa laughed nervously. “I came back. I thought that was obvious.”

“You don’t just show up here,” he said coldly. I swallowed, my fingers curling into the fabric of my sweater as I watched them both. Rosa straightened, clearly taken aback by his tone. “I didn’t think I needed permission.”

“This is my house,” Matteo replied. “You don't get to just show up just when you want.”

“I still have rights to be there,” she shot back. “I just wasn’t here at all because—”

“I don’t care, just leave,” he said flatly. I shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe we should all just—”

Matteo didn’t look at me and Rosa crossed her arms. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Because you don’t live here,” he said.

Her brows furrowed. “Since when?”

“Since always.”

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut through a glass and I just stood there without a word.

Rosa laughed again, but this time it sounded strained. “Okay, what’s really going on?”

Matteo took a step forward as his presence filled the space effortlessly, commanding without him even trying.

“What’s going on,” he said slowly, “is you walking into my house as if you belong here.”

Rosa’s face drained of color as she stared back at him. “Matteo—”

“You're not my girlfriend,” he said abruptly. The words landed like a slap and my chest tightened, realizing that she was never his girlfriend in the first place.

Rosa blinked. “What?”

“She has no rights here,” Matteo continued, his voice now even and controlled. “None.”

Rosa stared at him, stunned. “Is that really how you see me now?”

Matteo didn’t answer immediately.

“Yes, that's how I’ve always seen you Rosa,” he said finally.

And then the silence stretched. Rosa swallowed hard, her chin lifting as she tried to maintain composure. “Wow,” she said quietly. “That’s… that’s really something.”

She glanced at me then, her eyes softening as if holding back a tear. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“You didn’t,” I said quickly and Matteo scoffed under his breath. Rosa immediately picked up her bag from the chair. “I guess I’ll go.”

“You should,” Matteo replied coldly.

She paused at the doorway, looking back at him one last time. “You didn’t have to say it like that.”

And then she turned, the door closing behind her with a soft click. Almost immediately the kitchen felt cavernous afterward.

I stood there, heart racing, unsure where to look after what I’ve just heard.

Matteo turned away from me, reaching for a glass on the counter, his movements and expression stiff. And then in seconds he was gone.