Chapter 5 Italy

I still felt like I was being watched.

Zane had left an hour ago, and yet his presence lingered like a ghost I couldn't shake. I tried to meet his eyes when he walked away, tried to hold my ground, but I failed. His gaze was a blade, slicing straight through to my heart.

I reached into my purse on the ground, pulling out my phone to text him something-anything-to make him leave me alone. But just as I unlocked the screen, I saw his car start up, then turn in the complete opposite direction.

What the hell is he doing?

After a sleepless night, I woke up late, took a long shower, made myself breakfast, and with a cup of coffee in my favorite mug, I sat on my bench overlooking the city. It was Saturday. I had made a plan yesterday-to do exactly this. Nothing. Just breathe.

That's when my phone rang.

I couldn't believe it was happening.

One second I was in my bathrobe, enjoying the coffee aroma and morning sun, and the next, Sam was shrieking into the phone, "Pack your bags, b*tch! We're flying to Italy tomorrow on a private jet!"

"You mean commercial, right?" I asked cautiously, swirling the spoon in my mug.

"No," she groaned like she was having an orgasm. "Private. As in, Zane's jet."

My stomach dropped.

Zane.

Of course it had to be him. He has a jet now? Whatever. I don't want to know.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," I started, but Sam didn't give me a chance.

"You're going, Suzzane. I am not getting married without my best friend there to watch me stress-eat Italian pastries. Plus, we're shopping, swimming, partying, and maybe-just maybe-getting laid. Pack something slutty."

That last part got me. Yes, please. The getting laid part I could use.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't deny it-I wanted to go. The idea of warm beaches, lemon-scented streets, candlelit dinners, and endless pasta was intoxicating. Even if it meant being near Nate.

This is your lifelong dream, Suzzane. Get yourself together and enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

The jet was ridiculous.

White leather seats. Crystal glasses. The scent of expensive cologne and pure wealth hung in the air like it belonged there.

Dave greeted me with a warm hug. Sam was already sipping champagne, sunglasses on indoors like a diva. Chris and Josh-of course Sam invited Josh-were sitting across from each other, playing cards and bickering over the rules.

And then there was him.

Zane

He sat at the far end of the jet, legs crossed, a glass of dark liquor in his hand, eyes locked on me the moment I stepped inside. Like he'd been waiting.

His stare was intense-heated. Like he could undress me with just a look.

I straightened my spine, chin high. Cleared my throat.

He smirked. That d*mn smirk.

He wore a crisp black button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tattoos trailing down his forearms. Had he gotten new ones? I couldn't make them out from this distance. He was doing something on his phone-good. My starved eyes took the opportunity to linger.

His jaw looked sharper than I remembered. His hair, messier. Like he'd been running his fingers through it while thinking about... something dangerous.

He didn't say anything. Neither did I.

But I felt it.

That simmer.

That hunger that never truly went away. It was going to be a long flight. and a long weekend.

"What can I get you?" the hostess asked, her smile dazzling.

"Something strong," I replied.

"That's the spirit!" Sam hollered, grinning.

"We only have whiskey," the hostess said, looking apologetic.

Whiskey? I had a low alcohol tolerance. That would be a very bad idea, especially sitting across from Nate in this tiny, tension-filled space. I cleared my throat.

"You don't have wine?" Sam asked, frowning.

"I'm sorry."

"I'll take water," I told her, shooting a look that said, It's okay.

"We'll take the whiskey," Josh said, eyeing me, Chris, and Zane-who was still pretending to be too busy to notice anyone.

We spent most of the flight talking and laughing, while Josh and Chris's card game turned deadly serious. They were yelling at each other over rules and money. Honestly, it was hilarious watching them argue like children.

Zane didn't say a word the entire flight. Not one.

Once or twice, he shot a warning glance at the chaos when they got too loud. But otherwise, he stayed locked into his phone.

What the hell is he doing on there anyway? Not your business, Suzzane.

Italy was a dream.

The villa overlooked the sea, all white stone and winding vines. I had my own room, I could feel Zane's presence constantly. Even when he wasn't near, it was like he owned the air around me.

He didn't just exist into a room-he commanded it. he was the kind everyone notices.

The first day was wedding dress shopping with Sam. We tried on ridiculous gowns, laughed until our stomachs hurt, and drank too much prosecco. At one point, she pulled me aside.

"Why do you keep looking over your shoulder like you're being hunted?" she whispered.

"Because I am," I muttered, tugging at my sundress. he was hunting me. that was the right word.

"Did he say something to you?"

"Not even a word," I said quickly, trying to mask the disappointment in my voice.

"Wait... did you have something to do with this?" I asked. realization hitting me. he was acting strange. after the roses and all. I expected something to happen by this time.

"Of course. Told you I had your back." she tells me

That explained the jet ride. And the silent treatment.

"What did you say to him?"

"I just made him promise not to talk to you."

"Just like that?" I raised a brow.

"I might have added that if he did, you might not come to the wedding. And I wouldn't forgive him."

"Good one." I grinned, though I knew Zane

had his own reasons.

"Let's get dressed," she said, clinking her glass against mine.

"Right after you, soon-to-be bride," I replied, giving her a mock bow. We smiled at each other, glowing.

That night, Zane hosted a dinner at a clifftop restaurant he rented out just for us. Candlelit tables. The ocean crashing below. Everything was luxurious, breathtaking.

I tried not to be impressed. I really did.

It reminded me of the dinners we used to have... No. You're in Italy, surrounded by gorgeous men, looking hot in a black dress. Enjoy your d*mn night, Suzzane. Maybe even have a... well, you know.

I sat down at the table, completely unaware his chair was right next to mine. my hands shook when i grabbed my water from the table nervously. I chugged it.

Until he pulled my chair slightly closer, leaned in, and whispered against my ear, "You look edible tonight."

I choked on my water.

His lips brushed my ear. "Careful, baby. If you blush any harder, they'll think I'm undressing you under the table."

"What happened to the time-out?" I asked, wiping water off my thigh.

He smirked. Just as he was about to reply, a blonde sitting across from us cut in.

"Zane, sweetie, you're amazing. How did you even get this place? I've been trying to book it for eight years!"

"He has his ways," Dave mumbled, clearly uncomfortable under Sam's glare.

So... Dave invited her.

"You look good, Suzzane. Was Italy everything you expected?" Chris asked, finally speaking to me for the first time since the breakup.

"Yes, and so much more, actually-"

"Oh my God, you're Suzzane?" the blonde laughed.

"Sorry, what's funny?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"I just didn't think you'd show up. Thought it might be too... embarrassing for you."

Embarrassing?

"you know since_" she starts to explain it further. oh she meant after getting dumped.

"Enough." Zane's voice was sharp. The room fell silent.

He stood. "Follow me," he said to her, walking out.

"That makes two of us," I muttered. Zane froze for a second but didn't look back. She followed him.

I wanted to ask Sam who she was-but she was sitting too far. And honestly? I didn't give a sh*t.

Zane didn't return to dinner.

The next day, we went swimming.

The private beach was perfect-smooth sand, turquoise water. I wore a red bikini that showed plenty, tied a sheer scarf around my hips. Everything sparkled under the sun. The coconut drink in my hand was almost too sweet.

"Let's swim," I said to Sam, who was lounging in black.

"Not now," she said, eyes narrowing.

I looked up.

He was in the water.

With her.

That blonde. Legs for days, clinging to him like she belonged there. Her bikini barely covered anything. Fake boobs, pouty lips, expensive energy.

"Who's that?" I asked, my voice tight.

"Oh. the last night b*tch, Bianca. she is one of his... occasional guests." she tells me.

My blood boiled.

Bianca looked over her shoulder and smirked at me.

I turned away.

You don't care, I reminded myself. You don't.

He was watching me. His eyes burned through me-angry, hungry, punishing. I clenched my thighs, trying to chase away the heat.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"Hey, where's Josh?" I suddenly asked, scanning the beach. "He was on the jet, right?"

"Girl, are you serious? He left the next day. Family emergency."

"What? What happened?"

"I don't know. He didn't say. He's your guest-you should know."

"Says the girl with the invite," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

I felt bad. Josh had come for me-and I hadn't even noticed he was gone. i needed to call him. my phone was in my room I stood up, brushing sand off my legs-maybe a little slower than necessary-and made my way back to the villa, hips swaying.

I didn't look back.

But I could feel him watching me.

And some twisted part of me hoped he'd follow.