Chapter 3:THE RULES BREAK

 Rain in Milan. 

And Giulia was stuck in Marco’s office after hours, helping him prep for the board presentation.

“You don’t have to stay,” Marco said, not looking up from his laptop. “I’ll send a car.”

“I’m already here.” Giulia was marking up his slides with a red pen. Circles. Arrows. Notes in the margins. She was good at this. Better than his actual team. “And you need someone to tell you that slide 12 makes no sense. ‘Synergistic growth projections’ isn’t a sentence.”

Marco finally looked at her. Hair messy from running his hands through it. Tie loose. Sleeves rolled up. He looked 19 again. The boy who taught her to sneak out the back of the library and share one earbud on the bus. 

“You’re good at this,” he said. 

“You were good at leaving,” she shot back. Then regretted it immediately.

The office went quiet except for rain hitting the glass, 40 floors up. 

“I didn’t leave because I wanted to,” Marco said. He closed the laptop. The sound was loud. “My father found out about us. He had photos. Us at the cafe. Us on the train. He threatened to cut off your brother’s scholarship. Said I was ‘distracting the help’s sister.’ He said if I didn’t disappear, he’d make sure your mother never worked in a Bianchi hospital again.”

Giulia’s pen stopped moving. 

“I was 19, Giulia,” Marco continued. Voice low. “I had €200 in my account and a trust fund I couldn’t touch. I chose between you and Luca’s future. Between you and your mom’s job. I told myself it was temporary. That I’d come back in a year with my own money. Then a year became two. Then he announced my engagement to Valentina and I thought—”

He cut himself off. 

“You thought what?” Giulia asked. 

“I thought if you hated me, you’d be safe,” Marco said. “I was wrong.”

Giulia set the pen down. Her chest hurt in a way it hadn’t in 8 years. “You could have told me. A text. A letter. Anything.”

“And have you fight me on it?” Marco stood, walked to the window. Milan was all lights and rain. “You would have. You’re stubborn. You would have tried to fix it with me, and my father would have ruined you for it. I thought I was doing the right thing. I was wrong.”

Giulia stared at his back. The same shoulders. Wider now. The same way he held himself when he was lying. 

“You don’t get to say that now,” she said. “Not after 8 years. Not after I watched my mom sell her jewelry to pay for chemo.”

“I know,” Marco said. He turned. “That’s why I’m not asking for more than 30 days. I don’t deserve more. I’m just asking for 30 days to not be a coward.”

Lightning flashed. The power cut out. 

The office went black. 

Giulia stood up too fast. Her chair hit the desk with a crack. Marco moved instantly, his hand finding her arm in the dark.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” But she wasn’t. Because his hand was still on her arm. Warm. Because she could smell his cologne under the rain. Because 8 years didn’t feel like 8 years in the dark. 

“Giulia,” he whispered. Not CEO Marco. Just Marco. The boy who used to fall asleep on her couch studying.

“Don’t,” she said. But she didn’t pull away.

His thumb brushed her wrist. Once. Twice. Like he was remembering. “I’m sorry. For then. For now. For putting you in this position. For making you sign that contract.”

“I know,” Giulia said. Her voice broke. “But saying sorry doesn’t fix it, Marco. It doesn’t pay the hospital bills. It doesn’t give me back 8 years.”

“No,” he agreed. His forehead touched hers. Not a kiss. Just… close. Breathing the same air. She could feel how hard he was trying not to move closer. “But maybe 30 days of me trying to do right by you will. Of me showing up. Of me fixing what I can.”

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Hospital. Again. 

Giulia stepped back, out of his reach, fumbling for it in the dark. “Hello?”

“Mom’s stable,” the nurse said. “Fever’s down. But you should come by tomorrow.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

She hung up. The power flickered back on. Harsh office lights. 

Marco was already at the desk, three feet away. The CEO mask slid back on his face like armor. 

“We have rules, remember?” Giulia said. Her voice was steadier than she felt. 

Marco exhaled, nodded. “Rules. Right.” He picked up the red pen and handed it to her. Their fingers brushed. Neither of them pretended it didn’t happen. “Let’s finish these slides.”

For the next two hours they worked in silence. But it wasn’t the same silence. 

Every time Marco leaned over to point at a chart, his shoulder brushed hers. Every time Giulia reached for the same file, their hands touched. 

At 1 a.m. Marco finally said, “We’re done.”

Giulia packed up her notes. “I’ll call my own car.”

“I already called it,” Marco said. “And I’m walking you down.”

The elevator was empty. Just the two of them and the sound of rain. 

At the doors, Marco held it open. “Giulia.”

She stopped. “What?”

“I meant what I said. About the 30 days. About trying.”

Giulia looked at him. Tired. Honest. 19 and 27 all at once. 

“Don’t make me regret saying yes,” she said. 

“I won’t,” Marco said. 

She got in the car. He stood in the rain until it pulled away.

Day 12 of 30. And the rules were already cracking.