Chapter 3 Lines That Shouldn't Be Crossed

Isabella's POV

The silence in the house was suffocating.

I had worked with children before, restless toddlers, stubborn preschoolers, and even kids who refused to listen. But Matteo Romano was different. He wasn't just distant; he was guarded, like a child who had learned that getting attached meant getting hurt.

After their brief interaction that morning, he hadn't spoken another word. Instead, he spent hours sitting by the window, staring at nothing.

I sighed, glancing at the time. Almost noon.

"Matteo," I called softly, "are you hungry?"

No response.

I walked closer but kept my distance. "I was thinking of making some grilled cheese. Or maybe pancakes for lunch?"

Matteo didn't move, didn't even acknowledge my presence.

I pressed my lips together, fighting the frustration building inside me. This wasn't going to be easy, but I hadn't expected it to be.

Before i could say anything else, the door swung open.

Lorenzo.

He filled the room effortlessly, his presence commanding as always. He wasn't dressed in a suit today, just a black sweater and dark jeans, but somehow, he still looked every bit the powerful man he was.

He took one look at Matteo and sighed. "He hasn't eaten?"

I crossed my arms. "I've tried."

Lorenzo walked over to Matteo and crouched beside him. "Matteo, you need to eat."

The boy tensed but still didn't speak.

Lorenzo exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before standing again. He turned to me, his expression unreadable. "Come with me."

I frowned. "What?"

"Now."

I hesitated, glancing at Matteo, but the boy didn't even blink at their exchange.

With a sigh, I followed Lorenzo out of the room and down the hall. He didn't speak until they were downstairs in the kitchen.

"I don't have time for games," he said, his voice low but firm. "If you can't get him to listen, tell me now."

I narrowed my eyes. "He's not an employee, Lorenzo. He's a child. A grieving child."

His jaw tightened. "I know that."

"Do you?" I shot back. "Because right now, he's sitting in that room alone while you throw orders at him like he's supposed to snap out of it."

A tense silence settled between them.

I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, but I didn't take them back. Someone had to say it.

Lorenzo exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. "You think I don't care?"

"I don't know what to think," I admitted. "But Matteo needs patience, not just commands. If you want me to help him, you need to let me do it my way."

Lorenzo studied her, his gaze unreadable.

Finally, he nodded. "Fine. But if you ever speak to me like that again, Isabella, we're going to have a problem."

My heart pounded, but I held my ground. "Duly noted."

A flicker of something-amusement?-crossed his face, but it was gone before I could be sure.

Then, before I could process what had just happened, a loud crash echoed from upstairs.

Lorenzo's head snapped toward the sound, his entire body going rigid.

My stomach twisted.

Matteo.

Without thinking, they both ran toward the stairs