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Chapter Eight

Penulis: Carabella
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-09-18 17:01:09

The pencil moved in soft arcs across the page, almost whispering against the paper.

I sat cross-legged on my bed, sketchbook balanced on my thighs, sunlight pouring through the half-drawn curtains and spilling over my hair.

My lines weren’t perfect yet,curves of gowns had slanted too sharp, the bodice refused to come alive no matter how many times I re-sketched it. But the act itself calmed me, gave me a rhythm my days often lacked. Each failed line meant I could try again, shaping fabric on paper the way I wished someone would shape my life to my satisfaction, with intention, with care. I was supposed to let go of this but I can't.

A shadow fell across the page.

“You still at that?”

My hand stilled. I didn’t need to look up to know the voice,who else would have a deep, warm and an annoyingly amused voice if not Matteo.

He leaned against my doorway, his frame blocking half the light, his lips curved in a smirk that I had come to know too well. He didn’t knock, he didn’t ask. He neve
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Patricia Cooper
Mateo owes that man from the airport money or something and that's why he called her his future bride cause Mateo is giving him her
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  • His Queen,Their War   Chapter Fifty Seven

    I didn’t even hear Guila’s first words. My head was ringing too loudly, stuffed with panic and humiliation. Pearls still clung to my palms like tiny reminders of my failure. I tried to breathe, tried to blink the tears away, I tried to think,but my chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.“Alessia, hey,hey,look at me,” Guila said, reaching for my shoulders.I jerked away. “Don’t,just don’t talk to me right now.”“But we can fix…”“No, we can’t.” My voice broke, and I hated how fragile it sounded. “We searched everywhere today! Everywhere, Guila! There is no other fabric. That was my last hope. The competition is in two days. What exactly do you want me to fix, huh?”Her eyes softened. “We can buy another…”“Another what?” I snapped. “Another fabric? Another design? Another month of stress? Because I’m not seeing it!”She blinked at me, startled, but I was shaking from both anger and that ugly, hopeless heaviness kneeling on my chest.She reached out again. “Alessia, I get it. Y

  • His Queen,Their War   Chapter Fifty Six

    ~A Day Later~The shopkeeper’s words hit me like a slap.“I’m sorry, signorina. That fabric is out of stock.”For a second, everything around me blurred. The shelves, the rolls of fabric, the people moving behind me—everything went watery, like I was underwater and slowly sinking. My heart dropped to my stomach.Out of stock? Now? Two days before the competition?Guila’s hand instantly wrapped around my arm. “Alessia… hey, breathe. We’ll keep looking.”My chest felt too tight to breathe properly, but I nodded anyway. I didn’t trust my voice not to crack.We stepped out of the shop, the sunlight bright and cruel. I had a particular fabric in mind,if not that fabric,then I'm not going for anyone because if I used another fabric,it won't be like what I pictured in my head.Guila squeezed my shoulder. “Come on. Sicily has a thousand shops. We’ll find it.”So we went.Shop after shop. Street after street.Fabric stores, tiny boutiques, high-end supply places, even shady little stalls tucke

  • His Queen,Their War   Chapter Fifty Five

    The quiet in my room was finally beginning to feel like comfort. I had spread the sketch papers on my bed, pencils lined up beside them, and was trying—really trying—to force an idea out of my tired brain. Nothing was coming. Not a silhouette, not a spark, not even an ugly scribble I could pretend was “artistic exploration.”I exhaled loudly and let myself fall back on the bed. The silence wrapped around me like a blanket. Good. I needed it. I deserved at least five minutes without stress, without thinking of school, competitions, Francesca, or—The door opened.Of course.Salvatore walked in like he owned the house. Well, technically he did, but still. The audacity. The absolute audacity.I groaned and didn’t even bother hiding it.“What are you doing in here?”He didn’t answer right away. He rarely did. Instead, he stepped further into the room. Then he held out the telephone receiver toward me.I blinked.“What?”He didn’t say a word. Just kept holding it out.“Who is it?” I asked.

  • His Queen,Their War   Chapter Fifty Four

    By the time the car dropped me off at the house, I felt like my bones were made of melted wax. The excitement from school had drained out of me, replaced with the kind of exhaustion that lived deep in the chest, not the body.I dragged myself upstairs, tossed my bag on the bed, and collapsed face-first beside it. I didn’t even bother taking off my shoes. My brain felt like cotton, stuffed with deadlines, designs, thunder from last night, Francesca’s venomous words, Salvatore’s stare—Ugh. I needed a break.I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. Just then, I remember someone special that I haven't spoken to for a while.I reached for my phone and dialed Matteo.He picked up on the third ring.“Alessia?” His voice was warm and familiar, and suddenly I missed home more than I expected.“Hey,” I breathed, closing my eyes. “Just checking on you. I'm so sorry I didn't call when I got here. I got choked up with things. Hope Lorenzo isn't torturing you.”“It’s okay Principessa,I underst

  • His Queen,Their War   Chapter Fifty Three

    ALESSIA'S POV For the past few days, I’d been doing everything humanly possible to ignore Salvatore. And God, it was exhausting.Every time I heard his footsteps somewhere in the house, every time his presence brushed against mine like static, every time I felt those eyes on me,my stupid heart twitched. And I hated that. I hated that he still had that kind of effect on me. I hated that he could hurt me without even touching me.To think he even called Francesca over.The thought alone made my chest tighten. It shouldn't have. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t feel anything. And I absolutely, definitely, completely wasn’t allowed to feel jealous.So I didn’t. I smiled instead, I forced myself to smile. I acted unbothered. Hallelujah, I didn't fall deeply again. I refused to. Hold on a second,I was falling before? Damn you Alessia! But every time I remembered Francesca’s hand fixing my hair… her whisper… those ugly words;“Let go of him before you hurt yourself.”I felt something inside m

  • His Queen,Their War   Chapter Fifty Two

    I couldn’t sleep. Her words wouldn’t let me. “Don’t be a cheat.”That one sentence slammed into my chest over and over like a hammer striking bone. I kept replaying her face. Those red, wounded eyes,as if someone had carved them into my memory with a hot blade. That wasn’t anger. That was betrayal. That was pain. What did Francesca tell her? What the hell did she do?No one knew I was engaged to Francesca except Francesca and maybe Lorenzo,but that bastard's too busy thinking of how to be smarter than me.I sat on the edge of my bed, knuckles pressed to my forehead, elbows digging into my thighs, breathing like I survived an accident. My body was exhausted but my mind—my mind was wide awake. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her pushing my hand away. That look on her face… God. I’d rather get shot than look at that again.The next few days were worse. She didn’t yell. She didn’t fight. She didn’t even look at me. She moved around me like I was wallpaper,just air in the room. She car

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