Chapter 3 Confrontations And Whispers

Long after the cheers subsided, I could still hear the best man's speech, the tight knot in my gut growing with each shout and clinking of champagne glasses. I had become skilled at projecting a sense of composure, but it was a flimsy illusion that might break at any time. Particularly now, with Alessandro at my side and Matteo looming in the background, a mystery I hadn't yet started to unravel.

"Anita," Alessandro said, bringing me back to the here and now. The celebration had devolved into animated chatter and laughing, with attendees dispersing to dance under the sparkling lights or find their seats. The little contact of Alessandro's palm against mine anchored me. "Come along with me."

I looked at him, startled. He had lost his playfulness and his eyes were serious. I hadn't yet completely recognized the shrewder, more cunning part of Alessandro that the guy in front of me had.

"Where?" With a whispery voice, I inquired.

His eyes conveyed a challenge, despite his faint grin. "Somewhere more peaceful. You seem to be in need of some air.

And he was correct. I let him lead me through the throng and nodded. As the band began a spirited performance of a pop tune, the reception hall was alive with anticipation. In blissful ignorance of the turmoil that was simmering under the surface of this sparkling occasion, couples swayed together. There was still a pressure from Matteo that I was unable to shake. But in a way I couldn't quite comprehend, Alessandro's hand in mine felt firm and comforting.

A side entrance led to a patio illuminated by gentle fairy lights, which we sneaked across. A tapestry of glistening steel and glass, the metropolitan skyline stretched out in front of us. In contrast to the heat and mayhem inside, the chilly air was a pleasant change. Trying to shake off the oppressive memories Matteo had retrieved, I took a deep breath.

"Better?" Alessandro leaned comfortably on the railing of the patio and inquired. He looked really attractive, the kind of guy who made it hard to think clearly, and the wind tousled his hair.

I forced a little grin. "A lot better. Much obliged.

He cocked his head, examining me. "You don't seem very free for a woman who says she's left her past behind," the speaker said.

I tensed up, his words piercing me more deeply than I wanted to acknowledge. I said, although hesitantly, "You don't know me well enough to make that judgment."

I briefly believed he was going to push me further as his gaze narrowed. Then, however, he let out a deep, reflective breath. Alright. However, if you are here to prove anything, either to yourself or to him, you should be aware that everything is clear.

"Transparent?" I repeated, my chest beginning to rise with the well-known heat of rage. "Alessandro, would you know anything about that?"

He didn't wince. Instead, he moved closer and spoke in a whispery secretive tone. In a game of hearts and power, I am aware that hiding your hand is the finest strategy for winning. Additionally, you are now acting out every emotion on your face.

With my heart racing, I turned my head away. It was a startling and unexpected realization from Alessandro. And he was correct. My vulnerability and rawness were too much, and Matteo's return had left me in a state of chaos. I wasn't going to tell myself that, however.

The entrance to the patio cracked open before I could reply. When Matteo emerged from the house, his outline lighted by the city lights, my heart sprang into my throat. Like prey in a predator's crosshairs, I felt imprisoned as his eyes focused on me.

He said, "Anita," in a cool, collected tone. It was the voice, full of dominance and unsaid charges, that I recalled from our last disputes.

Alessandro straightened, his expression changing from one of casual companionship to one of far more protection. "Julio," he said to Matteo, purposefully using his last name. It seemed like the prelude of a storm, the tension between them.

Matteo fixed his gaze on me and ignored him. He said with precision and unwavering resolve, "We need to talk." "On my own."

Alessandro moved forward, his demeanor unassuming but his presence commanding. "Julio," he replied in a light-toned voice, "she owes you nothing." "She moved on in case you didn't notice."

A muscle in Matteo's temple began to twitch as his jaw tightened. "You're not worried about this, Moretti."

"Does it not?" The threat in Alessandro's smile made me feel like a pawn between two warring monarchs.

I gasped. This encounter was just what I had feared the violent collision of my past and present. I had to take back control in order to prevent things from getting out of hand. I put a hand on Alessandro's arm and stepped forward. His eyes became a little softer as he looked at me.

I said, more to him than to Matteo, "It's okay." "I'll give him a chance."

Alessandro scowled without protesting. "I'll be right here," he responded quietly. It was a warning and a promise, and I felt both thankful and apprehensive about it.

With an inscrutable look, Matteo observed our conversation with a scarcely concealed passion. Alessandro took a few steps away, and I looked back at the guy who had previously meant the world to me.

With my arms folded over my chest, I murmured, "Speak." The protective stance was automatic, a barrier against the guy who had caused me more pain than anybody else.

Matteo looked at me, his eyes probing and almost eerie. His tone dropped to one I almost didn't recognize raw, almost vulnerable and he questioned, "Why are you really here?" "Is vengeance at stake here?"

The question left me with a sour taste in my mouth. Did it? Revenge had never been my goal, but I had a reason for coming back to New York. Had you?

"No," I responded in a harsher tone than I had meant. "Matteo, I returned because I had a life to live. Something that no longer centers on you.

He winced, and I saw a glimpse of agony in his eyes before he covered it up. He said, "Luca," the name dangling between us like a blown-up secret.

My heart stopped. I was shocked to hear that name once again after all these years had passed. I tried to maintain a neutral look while my heart pounded in my ears. "What about him?"

Instinctively, I retreated until the patio railing brushed against my back as Matteo moved closer. With a hoarse voice, he replied, "You never told me the truth." "I have to know now."

I felt a chill go through my body. I didn't expect this discussion to occur. I had been ready for rage, for charges, but not for this this weakness that Matteo suddenly showed. Our history was shaped by the name Luca, which left a scar that had never completely healed.

"Please don't," I said in a tremulous voice. "Don't involve him in this."

Matteo's eyes darkened, and he extended his hand until it almost touched my face. With a voice full of agony, he asked, "How can I not, Anita?" It was because of him that we broke up.

I interrupted him, my voice strained and urgent, "Stop." My eyes pinched with tears, but I fought them back. I had promised myself I would never weep in front of him again.

Matteo took a step back and his face became stern. The moment of weakness vanished, and the barrier of control he so skillfully wore took its place. He continued, his voice icy again, "This isn't over." We'll have a conversation. In the right way.

He turned and walked away, leaving me shaking as my present and history collided in a manner that seemed like it may blow everything apart. Pressing a palm to my lips, I attempted to exhale the oppressive weight of long-buried emotions.

With a deliberately neutral expression and inquisitive gaze, Alessandro walked up. With a softer tone than I had anticipated, he said, "What was that about?"

I couldn't respond. My thoughts become spinning with thoughts I could not make experience of, and my coronary heart becomes nonetheless pounding. "Luca." The call saved coming again to me like a ghost I could not shake.

My concealed secrets were no longer secure, and Matteo was determined to unearth them.

However, as I stood there fighting to keep the tempest inside of me under control, it became evident that this was only the beginning. The past had arrived full force, and the reckoning that lay ahead could not be avoided.