I stopped in front of the double doors to Matteo’s room, biting my lip. I had heard him talking just moments ago, his voice low, sharp—business. Dangerous business. Something about diamonds. Something about drugs. Something about trust.

And then his voice, the last words, still echoing in my head: “I think I have someone I can trust for this job.”

I didn’t know why that made my chest feel tight, like I was both part of something and completely outside of it at the same time.

I knocked once, then pushed the door open before I could chicken out.

The sight that greeted me nearly stole my voice.

Matteo sat in an armchair, his jacket tossed aside, shirt unbuttoned at the throat. He looked like sin wrapped in silk, leaning back casually with a glass of something dark in his hand. His phone was still on the table, screen glowing faintly.

His eyes lifted the second I entered, sweeping over me—and lingering.

I regretted my choice of outfit instantly. My satin nightgown clung in all the wrong (and right) places, falling mid-thigh, the lace at the neckline almost scandalous. I crossed my arms over my chest instinctively.

“Nice timing, bella,” Matteo drawled, voice thick with amusement. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to seduce me.”

I scowled, heat rising to my cheeks. “Don’t flatter yourself. I need to talk to you.”

He raised an eyebrow, sipping his drink like he had all the time in the world. “By all means. Though I have to say, this is the most appealing interruption I’ve had in weeks.”

“Cut it out,” I snapped. “I’m serious.”

His smirk deepened, but he gestured lazily with his glass. “Then talk.”

I took a breath, straightened my spine. “I want to call Luca.”

The smirk vanished. Just like that, his entire demeanor changed. The amusement bled from his face, replaced with something sharp, cold. “No.”

My jaw dropped. “What do you mean no? He’s my boyfriend, Matteo. He’s probably losing his mind right now.”

“He knows where you are,” Matteo said flatly. “He knows you’re alive. That’s enough.”

“Enough?” My voice rose, my hands curling into fists. “You dragged me into this! My whole life has been flipped upside down, and you think I can just sit here and not tell him I’m okay?”

“You are okay.” His eyes locked on mine, dark and unyielding. “Because you’re with me.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to claw at his smug face. “That’s not the point! Luca is—”

“Not relevant,” Matteo cut in, his voice like a blade. “And frankly, he’s not your priority anymore.”

I stared at him, chest heaving. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” His gaze flickered over me, slow and deliberate, and something in his eyes made my breath catch. “But… you can call your friend.”

That threw me off. “Gianna?”

He nodded once, pushing his phone toward me across the table. “Ten minutes.”

I hesitated, suspicion prickling at me. “Why would you let me call her and not Luca?”

He leaned back, swirling the liquid in his glass. “Because Gianna isn’t a threat. Luca is.”

The words made no sense, and yet the certainty in his tone silenced me. My hands trembled as I picked up the phone and dialed Gianna’s number.

It rang once. Twice. Then—

“ISLA?!” Her voice practically exploded through the speaker. “Oh my God, where the hell have you been?! Do you have any idea—do you—holy shit, I thought you were dead!”

My throat tightened. “G, I’m okay. I’m okay, I promise.”

“Okay?!” she shrieked. “Girl, half the neighborhood has been tearing the city apart looking for you! We organized a search party! I called the police, the hospitals, your landlord—”

“Gianna, please,” I cut in quickly, my voice breaking with both guilt and relief. “I’m safe. I can’t explain everything right now, but… I’m safe.”

There was a pause, then her voice softened. “You sound… different.”

I swallowed. My eyes flicked up, catching Matteo watching me, his expression unreadable. “Yeah,” I whispered. “Things are… complicated.”

“Complicated?” she repeated. “Is this about Luca? He’s been a wreck too—”

“Don’t,” I said quickly, my heart hammering. “Don’t tell him. Please. Not yet.”

Gianna hesitated. “Isla—”

“Promise me, G.” My voice cracked. “Please.”

She sighed, long and heavy. “…Fine. But you better call me again soon. I swear, if you disappear on me again, I’ll—”

“I know.” My throat burned. “I’ll try. I love you.”

“I love you too, idiot.” Her voice softened. “Stay safe. Whoever you’re with, I hope they’re worth all this trouble.”

The words made my stomach twist. I ended the call, handing the phone back to Matteo with trembling fingers.

He didn’t take it right away. He just leaned forward, studying me like I was some puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.

“You really do look sexy when you’re angry,” he murmured finally.

My cheeks flamed. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious.” His gaze drifted down the length of me, slow and heated. “The lace suits you. Dangerous in its own way.”

I glared, but my body betrayed me, a shiver racing down my spine. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he said, his voice low and almost teasing, “you’re still standing in my room, bella.”

I wanted to snap back, but the air between us had shifted. Thickened. Every breath I took felt heavier, charged. He set his glass aside, stood, and crossed the space between us with deliberate slowness.

My back hit the door before I realized I’d moved.

Matteo stopped just inches away, his hand braced beside my head. His other hand brushed a stray lock of hair from my cheek.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” he asked softly.

I swallowed hard. “What?”

“Fire,” he whispered. “You hate me, you fight me, and yet…” His eyes darkened, his lips so close I could feel his breath. “…you’re still here.”

My knees went weak. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

And then—

He stepped back.

“Go to bed, Isla.” His voice was calm again, smooth, unreadable. “You have work to do tomorrow.”

I blinked, stunned, my chest aching with a confusing mix of relief and disappointment.

“Work?” I echoed.

His mouth curved into a small, dangerous smile. “A proposal, you could say. Something only you can do for me.”

I wanted to demand answers, but he was already turning away, picking up his glass again as though the moment hadn’t happened.

Dismissed.

I clenched my fists, spun on my heel, and stormed out before he could see the flush on my cheeks.

But even as I curled into bed, staring at the ceiling, one thought refused to leave me.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?