CHAPTER 7

The late afternoon sun spilled over the Sicilian coast, casting warm light across the a sleek black car. As Matteo’s car cut sharply down the winding road, black and silent. His jaw was tight, dark eyes hidden behind sunglasses, fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.

Jamie had been dropped off at the mansion just moments ago, his cheeks still flushed from laughter and adrenaline, oblivious to the storm brewing in Matteo’s mind.

Matteo’s teeth clenched. How dare anyone try to lay a hand on him. The thought was sharp, cold, and immediate. The amusement park, the teasing, the fun—it was supposed to be controlled, enjoyable. Yet someone had tried to hurt Jamie. A junkie. A fool.

He arrived at a secluded villa on the outskirts of town, where the man had been held by his discreet operatives. The junkie was tied to a chair, shaking, eyes darting, realizing immediately the man entering was not one to joke with.

“Who sent you?” Matteo’s voice was low, controlled—but every word was a blade. He picked up a sharp short blade and stabbed it into the middle of his palm.

The junkie screamed sweat beading on his forehead. “I… I don’t know! I swear! I just… they said to—”

Matteo moved closer, shadow falling over him, sunglasses reflecting the dim light. “Don’t lie. It won't do you any favors. The faster you speak the quicker your death.”

The junkie flinched tears streamed down his face mixing with snot. Matteo stepped back in disguist

 “I swear, it was just—some guys in a bar! Paid me! I don’t know their names!”

Matteo’s lips curved into the faintest smirk, cruel and precise. He leaned in closer, the faint scent of his cologne heavy in the room. “What did they look like?”

He paused, letting the fear in the man’s eyes settle.

 “I cant.. remember. I was high when they-they came.” he stammered

The man shook violently, unable to meet his gaze. “ Please… I won’t do it again!”

“Too late,” Matteo said softly, almost bored. And in a motion as swift and precise as it was silent, the blade went through his throat. He gurgled on his blood. Drowning in it. Threat was removed. The body slumped forward, lifeless. No hesitation, no remorse visible—only cold calculation.

Matteo straightened, letting the silence settle in the room. His men hurried to clear the body and hand him a warm towel to clean his hands.

 Anyone who dared attack him, anyone who dared threaten those under his protection, faced consequences.

Always.

Meanwhile, back at the mansion, sunlight streamed through the large windows of the living room, warming the space. Jamie sprawled across the floor, legs crossed, greenish eyes sparkling with excitement. Lucas, still seated with his ankle elevated, had already begun to warm to the idea of adventure.

“Okay,” Jamie said, bouncing slightly on his knees. “We’re in Italy. We are in a mansion, food, beaches, the works. So let’s write a bucket list. Everything we’re going to do while you’re stuck with me—and soon enough on your feet again.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow, stormy blue eyes amused.

 “Stuck with you… yeah, that’s a sentence.”

Jamie grinned. “Exactly! Sentence of fun! Now, first things first. What do we want?” he tapped a pen against his cheek. A paper lay flat on the floor next to him.

Lucas tilted his head, thinking, wincing slightly as he adjusted his leg. “We… need a bucket list. To feel the experience. New things. Things we’ll actually remember.”

Jamie’s grin widened, mischievous. “I like that. Okay. Let’s see…” He pulled the paper closer to him

 “One: Have a one-night stand.”

Lucas choked on his laughter, nearly tipping his leg awkwardly. “You… you’re writing that down?”

“Absolutely!” Jamie said, already scribbling. “Two: Hit the club and meet someone new.” He paused, glancing at Lucas, smirk softening. “Don’t worry. You’ll probably get drunk and make friends with everyone there.”

Lucas rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe. Three?”

Jamie tapped the pen against his chin dramatically. “Get drunk. You. Me. Whatever. Four: Get on a yacht. Eat. Dance. Sun. Repeat. Five…” He paused, eyes gleaming. “I’m adding random adventures. Jet skiing, parasailing, maybe even zip-lining. Anything with adrenaline.”

Lucas shook his head, laughing quietly, the sound rare and soft. “You really are impossible.”

“Impossibly fun,” Jamie smirked, tapping the paper with a flourish. “Now, you. You’re stuck here for two more days because of your ankle. What do you want? Besides revenge for my recklessness?”

Lucas smirked faintly, warmth creeping through his chest as he glanced at Jamie. “I… just want to enjoy it. Even if I have… limited movement at the moment.”

Jamie nodded, understanding. “Limited is temporary. Fun is forever. Trust me.”

Lucas’ gaze wandered, catching movement at the edge of the room. Enzo had been hovering near him ever since breakfast, quiet, protective, shadowing him like a tall, dark sentinel. Lucas’ chest tightened faintly. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention—or care—but it was strangely comforting.

Enzo’s eyes met his, calm, piercing, almost silently reassuring. Lucas’ lips flushed as he nodded subtly, appreciating the presence without words.

Meanwhile, Jamie noticed Matteo’s absence but didn’t fret. He trusted that the dark-haired man was probably busy with work. He is a billionaire afterall.  Yet part of him couldn’t stop thinking about the amusement park—the teasing, the tension, the thrill that Matteo carried like armor.

As the afternoon stretched on, the bucket list expanded:

Try the Sicilian cuisine at the local market

Take photos on the cliffs at sunset

Ride a scooter along the coast

Dance at a club

Random spontaneous adventure

Jamie’s laughter grew easier as he added to the list, though his chest throbbed occasionally—a reminder of the day Matteo had protected him, and of how small and vulnerable he had felt without realizing it.

Lucas looked at him, Jamie smiled freckles catching the light, smile wide. “See? Even with a sprained ankle, we can have fun. The world doesn’t stop for injuries.”

Lucas exhaled softly, stormy eyes calm, warmth spreading through him. “I suppose… I can handle some fun.”

Enzo hovered closer, smoothing the blanket over Lucas’ leg, eyes sharp, alert to every minor shift, every movement. Lucas’ face warmed again, the protective energy around him almost overwhelming, but comforting.

By the evening, the golden Sicilian sunset cast long shadows across the mansion grounds. Jamie leaned back on the sofa, pen in hand, grinning as he finalized the day’s bucket list. Lucas, still pale and cautious, smiled faintly, beginning to feel the excitement of Italy—and the strange, protective bubble created by Enzo.

Somewhere outside, Matteo’s influence lingered like a shadow, a reminder that danger and thrill walked hand in hand in this world.

Jamie was unaware of the extent