LOGINZara’s POVI woke up to silence the next morning, not even the peaceful kind. But the kind that lingers after something important has already happened.For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling. The curtains were still half-drawn from last night, thin streaks of pale morning light slipping into the room.My head felt slow for some damn reason and my body heavier than usual and then it came back to me.The gala, the orchestra. Rosa’s smile which I found annoying days later.Matteo stepped in — again when I spoke to Dante. And Matteo left hours later, disappearing into thin air and that part settled in my chest like an unfinished business.At some point during the night, I realized I hadn’t seen him again. I had waited longer than I even meant to. Stood near the terrace doors pretending I was just enjoying the view.But he hadn’t returned, not before I left. Not before the drivers escorted me home, n
Danielle’s POVI watched the man retreat, he didn’t even rush, didn’t stumble like he should. But I saw it in his shoulders the stiffness of humiliation. And I liked that. Only that, Zara walked away from me seconds later after he left.Men like him only understood correction when it came wrapped in quiet threat. Still, my jaw remained tight because it wasn’t him I was thinking about.It was her.Dante had walked away without looking back. Spine straight, chin lifted. Fury disguised as composure.“She’s doing great blending in,” my father’s voice came from behind me, but I didn’t turn immediately.“Yes, she is,” I replied instead.“What’s the status of the man in your custody,” he asked.And before I could respond, Rosa’s father approached with two unfamiliar men in tailored suits.“Matteo,” he greeted smoothly cutting us off. “Allow me to introduce Signor Bianchi and Signor Valenti.”
Zara’s POVThe car door opened and the first thing I felt wasn’t the cold air. It was the weight of expectation and scrutiny, being watched before I had even stepped out of the car.Matteo exited first, as always. One smooth movement, one quiet adjustment of his suit. One sweeping glance at the marble steps ahead of us.He didn’t look impressed with all the flashes and yelling from the crowd around. And then he turned and extended his hand toward me. For the second time, just like it was in the first Gala.“Don’t get distracted,” he murmured, snapping me out of my thoughts.“I’m not,” I replied, even though my pulse disagreed seeing this much crowd for the second time.In seconds my heel touched the stone. The red carpet beneath it was almost blinding under the chandeliers hanging from the hall entrance. And gold light spilled down the staircase as photographers stood behind velvet ropes.“Second gala.” I muttered to myself. Second time stepping into a world that felt like it could sw
Matteo’s POVApparently I should have sent someone else. That was my first mistake.The boutique was closed to the public for now, as requested by me. Private fitting, discreet staff. No interruptions.It was supposed to be efficient. In; Select something appropriate for the gala. And then leave.Instead, I found myself sitting on a velvet chair, arms crossed, watching the fitting room curtain like it had personally offended me.I was already irritated. Not at Zara. At myself. This was unnecessary. I didn’t need to be here. And yet, when the curtain finally shifted and she stepped out— I understood exactly why I came.Green. Deep emerald silk that clung to her waist before falling in a fluid line to the floor. The fabric caught the light softly, outlining curves that were impossible to ignore.My body reacted before my mind did and I didn’t move, didn’t even speak when our eyes met. I just looked.She turned slowly toward the mirror, unaware of what she was doing to the oxygen in the
Zara’s POV DAYS LATER I know something I shouldn’t know. That’s the problem. The words I overheard the day before won’t leave my head. Deals. Numbers. A name spoken in a low voice that made the room go quiet. Matteo’s voice was calm, controlled, and terrifyingly steady in such a situation. And the way his men went silent when he made a decision. I mean, I wasn’t meant even to see or hear it, but I did. A few days later, I sat at the kitchen island pretending to scroll through my phone, pretending I didn’t hear words like shipment and leverage, and loyalty the other day. And then I heard his footsteps before I even saw him, and there came his voice cutting me off from my train of thought. A dark suit cut close to his figure, cold and demure. “You’re coming with me next week,” he says. No good morning, no explanation but I don’t look up either. “No, I’m not!” I snapped ignoring the fact that we can bo
Zara’s POVI told myself I wouldn’t think about it, about the way he had hovered over me and about the way he had almost kissed me.I rolled onto my side and shoved my face into my pillow. Sleep didn’t come easily and when it did, it wasn’t restful.By morning, the house felt heavier.I stepped into the hallway cautiously, half-expecting to see him leaning against the wall like some dark shadow waiting to continue last night’s unfinished war.But it was empty and the silence felt deliberate and almost punishing, yet fine. If he wanted distance, I would give it to him.I headed downstairs for water, the marble floors cool beneath my bare feet. The staff moved around with their usual efficiency, but there was something off in the air.I slowed near the corridor that led toward his study seeing that the door was slightly ajar. Voices echoing from inside.I mean I shouldn’t have stopped, but Zara never lea







