146

146
Gianna’s POV
When I heard the knock on my hotel room door, I groaned. I was in the middle of enjoying my first free morning since this trip started-still in my pajamas, with a cup of coffee in hand and no intentions of leaving this room. Matteo and I had finally gotten separate room, which meant I was free from any disturbances or intrusions whatsoever, but now, it seems I spoke too soon.
“Gianna, open up.”
Matteo’s voice. Of course.
I rolled my eyes, setting the coffee down and padding to the door. When I opened it, Matteo stood there looking annoyingly fresh in jeans and a dark t-shirt, his hands shoved casually in his pockets.
“What?” I said, leaning against the doorframe.
“You’re not doing anything today.”
“I am doing something,” I countered. “I’m relaxing. It’s called self-care.”
“Self-care can wait,” he said, already stepping past me into the room. “Get dressed. We’re going out.”
I crossed my arms. “Who says I want to go out?”
“Come on,” he said, flashing that irritatingly charming grin. “It’s a free day. Don’t you want to explore the city? I saw a market a few blocks from here-it looked interesting.”
I hesitated. The idea of venturing into the city with Matteo didn’t exactly appeal to me. But then again, spending the entire day alone in my room didn’t sound great either.
“Fine,” I said with a sigh. “Give me twenty minutes.”
True to my word, twenty minutes later, I met Matteo in the lobby. I’d pulled on a casual dress and sneakers, tied my hair back, and even managed a touch of mascara. Not that I was trying to impress him.
“Ready?” he asked, tilting his head toward the door.
“As I’ll ever be,” I muttered, following him outside.
It didn’t take much time for us to get to the market. It was bustling with life-brightly colored stalls lining the streets, vendors shouting their prices, and the mingling scents of spices, flowers, and street food.
Matteo led the way, weaving through the crowd like he’d done this a thousand times before. I trailed behind, slightly overwhelmed by the chaos.
“Stick close, Gianna,” he said over his shoulder. “Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”
“I’m not a child,” I shot back, though I did quicken my pace to keep up.
We stopped at a stall selling handmade jewelry, and Matteo picked up a delicate silver bracelet.
“This would suit you,” he said, holding it up.
I snorted. “You’re not exactly a jewelry expert.”
“Maybe not,” he said with a shrug, “but I know what looks good.”
I ignored the way my stomach flipped at his casual compliment and moved on to the next stall, determined not to let him get under my skin.
At some point, we found ourselves in the food section of the market, where vendors were grilling skewers of meat and frying what looked like dumplings. Matteo stopped at one of the stalls and ordered two of whatever was sizzling on the pan.
“What is that?” I asked as he handed me a small plate.
“No idea,” he said, popping one into his mouth. “But it’s good. Try it.”
I eyed the food suspiciously but took a bite. He was right-it was good.
“See?” he said, grinning. “You should trust me more often.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” I said, though I couldn’t help but smile.
As the day went on, I started to see a side of Matteo I hadn’t expected. He joked with the vendors, haggled over prices, and even helped a little boy who’d dropped his bag of oranges.
“You’re surprisingly… nice,” I said as we walked away from yet another stall where Matteo had charmed the vendor into giving us a discount.
He glanced at me, one brow raised. “Surprisingly?”
“Well, you’re usually so-” I hesitated, searching for the right word.
“Infuriating? Arrogant?” he offered, smirking.
“Something like that,” I admitted, though my tone was lighter than usual.
“Maybe you’re just starting to see the real me,” he said, and for once, his voice was free of sarcasm.
We stopped at a small cafe on the edge of the market, sitting outside at a rickety table under a colorful umbrella. Matteo ordered us drinks, and for a few minutes, we sat in comfortable silence, watching the people pass by.
“This is nice,” I admitted, surprising myself.
“Told you,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “You need to let yourself have fun once in a while, Gianna.”
“I have fun,” I said defensively.
“Name the last time you did something just for the hell of it.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Matteo raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my struggle to come up with an answer.
“Exactly,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You’re too busy being perfect all the time.”
I bristled. “I’m not trying to be perfect. I’m just focused on my career.”
“And that’s great,” he said, his tone softening. “But you can’t let it consume you.”
I looked away, unsure how to respond.
As we walked back toward the hotel, the sun already setting and making the sky seem orang-ish, Matteo slowed his pace to match mine.
“Thanks for coming out today,” he said, his voice quieter now.
“I didn’t really have a choice,” I said, though my tone lacked its usual bite.
He chuckled. “Maybe not. But I’m glad you came anyway.”
I glanced at him, caught off guard by his sincerity. Matteo was usually all swagger and charm, but in moments like this, he felt… real.
“Yeah,” I said after a moment. “Me too.”
I stared at him for a few seconds and couldn’t help but feel conflicted. Matteo was still infuriating, still arrogant, still everything I told myself I didn’t want. Not to talk of the age gap.
But he was also kind, funny, and, when he let his guard down, surprisingly easy to be around.
I didn’t know what to make of him-or the way he was starting to make me feel.