05-Barbecue, Cocktails, Drunken Words.

OLIVIA

Spinning around, with a hint of irritation on my face, I shoot Em a look that shuts her up real quick.

"Ease up, sourpuss; she's got car sickness," Izzy quips from her seat beside Em.

I've got the shotgun seat, and guess who's at the wheel? Matteo.

Anyway, Em and Izzy claim they despise the shotgun seat, but it's a total farce. Back when Dad used to drop us off at school, Em always claimed shotgun like it was her throne. And as for Isabella, it's crystal clear; she winked at me after her not-so-stealthy lie. I'm pretty sure Matteo saw through her act too.

Back to the current situation, Emma has been groaning non-stop, but now I'm pretty sure she's doing it just to get under my skin.

"So, Isabella, which one of your friends is coming over?" I inquire.

Matteo snickers, and she shoots him a glare that promptly silences him.

She mumbles some incoherent words, assuming I can hear her.

"Huh?"

"I never really had friends, well, I did have them, but that's by the wayside," she sighs.

As we approach their place, the anticipation builds.

"Well, I'm glad that's changed ," I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

I steal another glance at Isabella through the rearview mirror, and her expression is a mix of nerves and excitement. 

The car slowed down, indicating we were getting close and whoa. I'm seriously taken aback. This house isn't just fancy; it's like, 'We're so rich, we breathe money' fancy.

The design? Insane. It's all sleek lines and giant windows, the kind you'd see in those movies where people live a life I can only dream of. And size? Let's just say it's less of a house and more of a 'we need binoculars to see the other end' kind of deal.

As Matteo parks in what looks like their driveway, I'm trying not to gawk. It's like the front page of a fancy home magazine – flashy doors, a manicured lawn that probably costs more than my entire existence, and a fountain that's showing off just because it can. This visit just went from interesting to 'am I in a movie?' kind of vibe.

The car comes to a stop, and I hear Emma mutter a "wow."

Matteo rushes out of the car and opens the passenger door for me.

"Ooh, what a gentleman," I hum, and Isabella snorts.

Matteo sends her a glare at the inhuman sound that just came out of her mouth.

A woman comes running out towards us.

"Dios mio, Tesoro," she exclaims, pulling Matt in for a hug. (Oh My God, Darling)

"Mamma, you saw him just last week, no need to go all dramatic," Isabella grumbles, likely missing some motherly affection. 

"Oh, shut up sorella. You're just jealous because she came to me first," Matteo sticks his tongue out childishly. 

"Watch your language, Tesoro," his mum playfully smacks the back of his head. 

"And who might this beautiful young lady be? Please tell me you're Matteo's girlfriend. I'm getting impatient waiting for one of my sons to settle down," she says with a playful smile.

"She's not," Izzy butted in.

"Yet," Matteo quipped.

My cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and Isabella snickered, muttering an "I wish."

Their mum shook her head and turned to Em, offering her a sweet smile.

"And you are?"

"I'm Emma, Olivia's best friend," she introduced.

"Well, it's nice to meet you all. Come on in; Lucas and Tyler are already inside." Upon hearing that, Isabella let out a loud groan, earning her a glare from Matteo.

"Cagna," he muttered and walked into the house. 

"Dios mio, mi dispiace per questo," Alessia said to us, following after Matteo. (Oh my God, I'm sorry about that.)

Walking into the house, my jaw drops – it's like stepping into a billionaire's fantasy. The place is enormous, and dripping with wealth.

The foyer is like something out of a movie, with shiny marble floors that practically scream "expensive." Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, giving the whole place a kind of fairy-tale glow. I half expect someone to hand me a glass of champagne as I step inside, because wow.

The living room is a designer's dream, filled with fancy furniture that probably costs more than my entire fortune. Massive windows show off a perfectly manicured garden, making me wonder if I'm even indoors.

Honestly, this house is beyond anything I've ever seen. It's not just big; it's a whole other level of rich. I can't even wrap my head around how people live like this.

"La tua casa è bellissima, Alessia," I told her. (Your home is beautiful, Alessia)

"Grazie, non sapevo che parlassi Italiano," she beamed. (Thanks, I didn't know you spoke Italian)

"Mio Madre me l'ha insegnata prima di morire," I told her. She smiled at me, nodding in understanding. (My mother taught it to me before she died)

"Hey, Olivia, good to see you again," Lucas said, taking my hands and kissing the back of it.

"Back off, Luke," Matteo showed up, shoving him away from me.

My cheeks reddened immediately.

Before any more words could be exchanged, the doorbell chimed.

"That must be Dante," Alessia said, darting toward the front door.

"Il mio figlio preferito," I heard her squeal from the entryway. (My favorite son)

"Mamma," Matteo playfully shouted from beside me. (Mum)

"Stai zitto, Matteo. How are you, Dante?" She said as they approached the living room where I was. (Shut up, Matteo)

"Sto bene, mamma," a very familiar voice chimed in. I wracked my brain, trying to place where I'd heard that voice before.

"Fratello," Matteo called out. (Brother)

I looked up to find the notorious Dante. A gasp slipped from my lips as our eyes met.

"Stronzo" 

"Cagna" 

"What's with all the swearing in this house?" Alessia yelled. I shot her an apologetic glance.

"Mi dispiace, mamma, but I want to know what she's doing here," he said, giving me a nasty glare. (I'm sorry mum)

"I invited her here; she's Isabella's roommate and Matt's girlfriend."

"Actually—" I began to correct her.

"She's not my girlfriend yet, Mum."

"That's right. She's not his girlfriend yet, and how dare you speak to my friend like that?" Isabella seethed.

"Well, your friend spilled coffee on me," he sneered.

"I spilled coffee on you because you couldn't watch where you were going, and you proceeded to call me stupid. Do I need to remind you?" I retorted.

"You're the one who spilled coffee on her?" Isabella questioned, glaring intensely at him.

Isabella's intense glare lingered on him, demanding an explanation.

Just then, the sound of footsteps drew everyone's attention, and their eyes turned towards the stairs.

The air in the room grew tense as the man walked down the stairs. Dante's demeanor noticeably stiffened, and a subtle tension gripped the room. 

Without hesitation, he inquired in a measured tone, "What's going on here?" A blend of authority and curiosity colored his gaze. His Italian accent accentuated the words, and a hush fell over the room as he glanced around with a calculative gaze.

"Padre", Matteo and Izzy said simultaneously. He gave them a small smile, which they returned.

"Father," Dante uttered in a cold, clipped tone. The tension between them was palpable.

"Dante," his father responded in the same cold tone.

Alessia gave an awkward smile before introducing Emma and I.

"Gio, this is Emma, and Olivia," Alessia said, gesturing towards each of us.

"Nice to meet you," Emma and I said in unison, trying to inject a touch of warmth into the strained atmosphere.

"It's nice to meet you all; make yourselves feel at home," Giovanni said, walking off with Alessia, probably to the balcony.

"So where's Alessandro?" Izzy asked Dante suggestively, breaking the silence.

"Stop it, Bella," he glared at her, walking off to do God knows what, which gave me a view of his beautiful behind. 

Wait, what the hell am I even thinking?

Isabella led us to the balcony; the barbecue stands and chairs were already set. 

The soft evening breeze passed through us as we gathered on the balcony, the view extending to a beautifully landscaped garden.

"Take a seat, everyone," Alessia beamed with contagious excitement. How someone could be this pumped, I don't know, but at least now I understand where Izzy got it from. Isabella guided Emma and I toward the pool where three single chairs were waiting.

"ALESSIA!" a shriek echoed from the balcony door, diverting our attention. Two stunning, model-like girls appeared, one of them wearing an exhausted scowl. Before I could fully grasp the situation, Matteo rushed up to them, embracing one in a bear hug.

"Matteo," she screeched, giggling softly.

"Come stai, Gia," he asked after putting her down, smiling like a kid who just won a lottery. 

"Sto bene," she smiled brightly. (Sto bene)

I scoffed at the same time Isabella did.

"She's one of Dante and Matteo's childhood friends and she's had this thing for Matteo, which he's completely oblivious to. The other girl is Sofia; she's cool actually."

"Should I be concerned?" I asked, half-serious, nervously chuckling.

"Nah, she's not someone you need to worry about," Izzy said, amused. I subtly let out a sigh of relief. Gia's eyes met mine, and I noticed her frown slightly before it was replaced with a huge, fake grin.

"Hey, who are you?" She walked over to us, looking directly at me. My eyes met Sofia's rolling ones, and I gave her a slight smile.

"Oh, I forgot to introduce you two. Gigi, this is Olivia, and that's Emma," Matteo pointed at Emma.

"Guys, meet Gianna," he quipped, and we both awkwardly waved.

"I've known Matteo since he was three," she boasted.

"Ah, Gianna, Sofia, I see you've met Matteo's girlfriend, non ē carina?" Alessia squealed.

"Girlfriend???!!!" Gia and Sofia exclaimed in unison, but Gia's tone sounded like she could murder anyone at this point.

"She's not my girlfriend yet, mamma," Matteo said, a little flushed. I felt Gia's glare burning into the side of my head.

"Come on, Matteo, leave the girls to catch up, come on," Alessia pulled him away.

Gianna's gaze lingered on me, a peculiar intensity in her eyes. It felt like there was more to her scrutiny than mere curiosity. A subtle smirk played on her lips, leaving me slightly unsettled, as if she held a secret I hadn't discovered yet.

I sensed Gia was about to say something when Sofia pulled her back.

"Non iniziare," she muttered, rolling her eyes. (Do not start)

"Voglio solo presentarmi," Gia smirked sinisterly. (I just want to introduce myself)

"I think we're already past that, Gia. What else is there to know?" I let out a dry chuckle.

"Sei italiano?" Gia asked surprisingly, while Sofia gave me a warm smile. (Are you Italian?)

"Yes," I quipped.

"Matteo é mio," she glared almost directly into my soul. 

"Gianna, we're not teenagers anymore. Let's be mature about this," I suggested calmly. Gianna scoffed, shooting me a disdainful look, before storming off—probably in search of Matteo.

"I cannot stand her, seriously," Sofia remarked with visible disgust.

"Agreed, cugina," Isabella chimed in, wrapping her arms around Sofia. 

Just as the tension seemed to dissipate, Alessia's cheerful voice rang out, telling us the barbecue was ready.

                                °°°°°°°°°°

Tyler's laughter echoed across the entire balcony, the guys were tipsy and we were living for it. 

Alessia and Giovanni had gone upstairs, leaving us to enjoy the lively atmosphere. Isabella and Emma were giggling beside me, clearly feeling a bit tipsy. Sofia and I sat, amused, as Gianna made a poor attempt to cling onto Matteo. It was starting to get on my nerves, and I could tell Dante noticed it too, given the incessant smug smiles he kept throwing my way—a look I was seriously tempted to wipe off his face.

Matteo stumbled towards me, a grin plastered on his face, 

"Hey, Olly," he slurred slightly, a playful gleam in his eyes. "I've been meaning to say—I really like you. Like, a lot. Wanna go out with me?"

His words hung in the air, a blend of sincerity and tipsy boldness. A smile involuntarily crept onto my face, touched by the unexpected confession.

"Of course, I will, but ask me again tomorrow," I chuckled.

"Sure, I will, I will," he muttered, drifting off on my shoulders.

I glanced up to find Gianna glaring intensely at me. If looks could kill, I would've been buried six feet underground. I returned her glare with a victorious smirk.

Suck it up, Gigi.