In Front of His Eyes

Marcello and Monica were on their way to the nightclub.

Neither of them spoke for a long while. The tension inside the car made the drive feel much longer than it actually was.

She scrolled aimlessly through her phone, trying to pass the time until they arrived. Whenever Luca drove her, the ride was never this dull. He was around her age, easygoing, and always had something to talk about.

Unlike this statue sitting behind the wheel.

With a sigh, she slipped her phone back into her purse. Her gaze drifted instinctively to his broad shoulders and jet-black hair.

Someone as insufferable as you doesn't deserve to look this good, she thought, her eyes lingering on him despite herself.

She shot the back of his head an irritated look, unable to shake the urge to grab his thick skull and slam it against the steering wheel. She smiled, shaking her head quickly as if trying to chase the ridiculous thought away.

"Can you drive alright? I mean, does your arm still hurt?" she finally asked, unable to bear the damned silence any longer.

"Do you care about my arm now?" he asked, his face completely deadpan.

"Could you answer my question without replying with another question?"

"I remember a time when you threw shopping bags onto my injured arm without caring whether it hurt," he replied in the same flat tone.

She cleared her throat.

"Well... about that, I'm sorry. Only about that," she said awkwardly. "I shouldn't have done it. I was really upset about something."

For the first time since they had left the mansion, he looked at her through the rearview mirror. "I don't accept your apology."

"What?" she exclaimed. "I actually apologized to you. I'm not someone who apologizes easily. You should be grateful."

"Grateful?" A sarcastic chuckle escaped him. "Not every mistake can be fixed with an apology."

"You know what? I was wrong to even talk to you. Just keep driving."

"Yes," he replied calmly. "You were."

"Oh, shut up," she snapped, rolling her eyes.

The rest of the drive passed without a word from either of them until they finally reached the nightclub.

He got out of the car first and walked around to open the back door for her.

She stepped out. "Are you coming in with me, or staying here? It’s not like this is a place just for women," she said, a sideways smile playing on her lips, one that reminded him of their previous situation.

For the first time since he had met her, a faint hint of a smile appeared on his face, though he quickly hid it.

"Fine. I’m coming in," he said simply.

She walked ahead, and he followed close behind her.

The nightclub was already buzzing when they arrived, the heavy bass of the music pulsing all around them. Neon lights flickered over the entrance and spilled into the dim interior. Inside, people were dancing, talking, and laughing over the music, drinks in hand. The place had a sleek, stylish feel with dark furniture and soft golden lighting. A mix of perfume, alcohol, and smoke lingered in the air.

She stopped for a moment, her gaze moving across the place until she finally found her friends. A bright smile spread across her face as she walked toward them, while Marcello was right behind her.

"Hey, guys," she greeted them playfully.

"Woohoo, Monica!" Carolina almost jumped from her seat, pulling her into a tight hug, followed quickly by Bianca.

Carolina and Bianca had been her closest friends since elementary school, and their bond had only grown stronger over the years.

She shook hands with Matteo, Davide, and Enzo before taking a seat beside them.

Marcello remained standing behind her for a moment. Leaning slightly closer, he murmured near her ear, "I’m going to sit at the bar."

She looked over her shoulder at him. "Alright."

He left.

Davide narrowed his eyes as he watched him walk away, letting his gaze travel over him before turning back to Monica.

"Who’s that, Monica? New boyfriend, huh ? Has Sam been replaced already?" he asked with a teasing grin.

She rolled her eyes, though she tried to keep her expression under control. This wasn’t helping her plan at all. "No, Davide. He is my bodyguard. Sam is my first and last. No one else even comes close."

"Sam is one lucky guy," he said, taking a sip of his whisky. "He really owned the most beautiful woman in the world."

"I’m not a thing to be possessed." she spat sharply.

"Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that," he quickly added. "I just meant… I’ve never seen any woman as beautiful as you."

"Are we really going to waste the night on compliments you already know I’ve heard a thousand times?" she said, brushing her hair back. "Let’s talk about something else. And honestly, I don’t plan to stay out too late."

Davide chuckled, looking around at his friends. "What is this ? Cinderella’s curfew?"

"Has everyone started comparing me to Disney princesses now?" she thought, pursing her lips before letting out a sarcastic laugh. " Hmmm, but you’re not even worthy of keeping my shoe," she shot back.

"Oooh," Matteo muttered with amusement, while Carolina leaned into him, laughing.

Davide looked embarrassed, his eyes lowered as he shrugged it off. "You’re really sharp today, Monica," he said.

"Yeah, she always is," Enzo added with a grin.

"What a bloody idiot… Did you really have to bring out your stupid sense of humor now? You aren't helping me at all with what I was trying to do," she thought, looking at him.

"I’m sorry, Davide," she said finally, her tone softening. "I didn’t mean it. I’m just not in the best mood."

"No problem," he replied. "It's not the first time you’ve talked to me like that anyway. Excuse me, I’ll go up to the rooftop and make a call."

He went up to the rooftop bar and took a seat at the counter, wanting a moment to himself before going back down.

"Excuse me, I’ll go sort things out with him," Monica said to her friends as she rose from her seat.

She went upstairs and found him sitting at the bar counter. She walked over and stopped in front of him. "Can I sit with you?" she asked, smiling.

He looked up at her. "Of course."

When Marcello saw Monica heading up to the rooftop, curiosity and a faint irritation made him follow her upstairs.

When he reached the top, she was already sitting with Davide. He stopped at a distance where they wouldn’t notice him, his eyes fixed on them.

"I'm really sorry, Davide," Monica said as she sat beside him, turning to face him.

"It's okay."

"So you're not annoyed at me?"

"A little."

She gave him an apologetic smile "You know you're one of my closest friends. But Like I told you, I've just been in a really bad mood lately."

"Why?"

She looked away. "Sam."

"Sam?" he frowned. "What did he do?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then rested her hand lightly on his arm. "It doesn’t matter." She hesitated for a moment. "If I asked you to do something for me, would you do it?"

His gaze fell to her hand on his arm, clearly taken aback. It was the first time Monica had ever done something like that with him before he met her eyes again. A smile tugged at his lips. "Of course. Just say what you need."

From where Marcello stood, he couldn't look away. His eyes stayed fixed on them. The moment Monica's fingers settled on Davide's arm, his jaw clenched. He couldn't shake the curiosity over what she was doing or what she was planning.

"Would you like to dance, handsome?" Marcello turned toward the woman standing beside him, a glass of champagne in her hand.

"No, thanks."

She gave a small shrug. "As you wish."

When he looked back, Monica and Davide were kissing in front of his eyes. He stiffened. "What the hell is this..." he muttered under his breath.