Matteo

Adriana’s head rested lightly against the window, her fingers brushing the edge of her tulip bouquet as the city blurred past in streaks of light.

Miami was loud, sun-soaked, and a little too alive. I watched her take it in… the towers of glass, the ocean winking like a jewel, and I felt the same strange tug I always did around her.

The one that made me forget who I was supposed to be.

She turned to me, eyes soft but cautious. “Where are we going?”

I smiled, keeping my voice even. “An A-list hotel suite. Top floor. We’ll stay there for a while until things are settled.”

“Settled?” she echoed. The way she said it made my chest tighten.

I reached over, brushing my thumb against her knee. “We’re meeting Gabriel tonight.”

Her body went still. Just his name did that, and I couldn’t blame her. Gabriel wasn’t easy for anyone. Not for me either.

“He’s waiting for us at the penthouse bar,” I said quietly. “He wants to see you, too.”

Her eyes flickered with fear and curiosity, something else she tried to hide. “Do I need to be worried?”

“No,” I said with a smile. “I’ll handle everything.”

I looked at Adriana again. She was delicate, strong, too pure for the blood-stained world I’d dragged her into.

“Everything will be fine,” I told her, meaning every word, “You have me, princess. Always.”

Her fingers slipped into mine. “I trust you,” she whispered.

The city swallowed the rest of her words. Miami was bright and loud outside the tinted glass, but all I could think about was the crazy fucker waiting for us tonight, the man with my past written all over him, and what would happen when he saw the woman I refused to give up.

The chauffeur bowed and slid behind the wheel as we stepped toward the grand entrance. I kept my hand at the small of Adriana’s back, feeling the way she leaned into my touch.

The city hummed outside, with luxury cars gliding past, palm leaves trembling under the soft Miami wind, but inside the hotel, everything was still, cocooned in quiet wealth.

We crossed the marble lobby, a masterpiece of gold accents and crystal light. People turned to look; they always did. I wasn’t sure if it was because they recognised me or because Adriana, even wrapped modestly in grey, radiated something no designer could sell.

At the reception desk, the manager hurried over himself. “Mr De Rossi, welcome back. Your suite is ready, the top-floor A-list residence. We’ve arranged for full privacy, just as you requested.”

“Good,” I said. My voice came out calm, but I could feel the weight of the day pressing behind my ribs. “Send up the luggage and make sure no one disturbs us.”

Adriana smiled politely at the man, her fingers gripping the bouquet tighter. “This place is… unreal,” she whispered.

I followed her gaze as she turned in slow wonder, her eyes tracing every inch of the lobby, the marble columns veined with gold, the towering ceilings where crystal chandeliers hung like captured constellations.

The hotel had been built decades ago, its bones still steeped in the old world with Italian arches, sculpted cherubs, and mosaic floors. But someone had wrapped that heritage in modern luxury: glass, light, and clean symmetry.

Adriana looked spellbound. Her fingers brushed over a carved pillar as though she could feel the stories hidden in the stone. “It’s so beautiful,” she murmured. “It feels like Florence and the future mixed together.”

I smiled faintly. She noticed the art. I noticed the men.

Everywhere we passed, heads turned. Bellhops paused mid-step, businessmen slowed their pace… their eyes sliding to my wife, lingering where they shouldn’t.

She didn’t see it; she never did. Adriana was too busy admiring the architecture, too innocent in moments like this. But I saw every glance, every unspoken thought flashing behind those men’s eyes.

My jaw tightened, and my arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer as we walked.

When one man at the bar let his stare linger too long, I caught his gaze and held it until he flinched and looked away.

Another looked her up and down when she leaned to admire a mural. I sent him an angry glare. By the time we reached the elevator, the lobby had grown very quiet. Good.

The doors slid open and we stepped inside. Adriana was still smiling, her reflection glowing in the polished gold walls. I pressed the button for the top floor, and when the doors closed, the hush wrapped around us.

For a few seconds, she just stood there, still entranced. “You can tell this place was built to impress,” she said softly, her voice echoing. “Every detail… It’s like someone wanted people to fall in love the second they walked in.”

“They succeeded,” I murmured.

She turned to look at me, wide-eyed, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. The hum of the elevator filled the silence, slow and steady. I took a step forward, then another, until her back brushed the velvet wall.

Her breath hitched.

“Matteo…”

I didn’t say anything. I just leaned in and kissed her… slow, deep, and softer than I meant to. Her lips parted, tasting faintly of tulips and champagne. For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist. Just her warmth, her heartbeat, the faint sigh she made when I brushed my thumb along her jaw.

When I finally pulled back, she blinked up at me, dazed and breathless. “What was that for?”

“Because you look at everything else like it’s beautiful,” I said, my voice low. “I wanted you to remember that I'm looking at you the same way.”

She smiled then, shy and luminous. Just as the elevator chimed for the top floor.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and the scent of sea salt and white orchids drifted in from the corridor.

I guided Adriana forward, my hand resting lightly at her waist. The hallway itself looked like a gallery with sleek black marble floors, walls lined with abstract art, each piece worth more than some people’s homes.

We reached the double doors at the end. The manager had called it “The Celestia Suite.” I’d stayed here once before, years ago, but this time it felt different. This time, she was with me.

I swiped the keycard. The doors opened with a soft click.

Adriana froze in the doorway.

“ Oh my God, Matteo”, she whispered.