148

148
Gianna’s POV
The elevator dinged softly, and Matteo gestured for me to step out first. The hallway ahead was narrow, the dim lighting giving it a mysterious edge that scared me a little bit. He had led me out of the hotel again today, refusing to tell me where he was taking me to. I keep saying I want him out of my life and yet I keep accepting his invitation to go out.
How dumb I am.
“Are you sure this place exists?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at him.
Matteo smirked, his hands in his pockets. “Have I ever led you astray?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Do you want an honest answer?”
He chuckled, stepping beside me to push open a plain, unmarked door. The faint hum of jazz music drifted out, mingling with the cool night air.
It was a rooftop bar.
The rooftop bar was small and simple. Yet it was intimate. Strings of warm fairy lights crisscrossed above, their glow reflected in the glass-topped tables scattered around. Beyond the railing, the city stretched out beneath and around us.
“Impressed?” Matteo asked, leaning closer as if he already knew the answer.
“It’s nice,” I said, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a bigger reaction.
He laughed under his breath and led us to a corner table, far from the few other patrons.
A server appeared almost instantly, and Matteo ordered a whiskey neat. I hesitated before settling on a glass of red wine, something about the atmosphere calling for it.
“Didn’t peg you as a rooftop bar kind of guy,” I said, swirling the wine once it arrived.
Matteo shrugged, his gaze flicking briefly to the skyline. “I like places where you can think. Somewhere quiet.”
I studied him for a moment. “You don’t strike me as the introspective type.”
“Shows what you know,” he said, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. I caught the subtle insult. Nothing. I knew nothing about him. And it made my chest hurt much more than I’d have like.
I took a sip of wine, letting the warmth settle in my chest and ease the pain I felt there. “Alright, enlighten me, then. What’s on your mind when you’re up here?”
Matteo leaned back in his chair, his fingers trailing along the rim of his glass. “Family. Work. Whether I’m doing enough or if I’m just spinning my wheels.”
That threw me. Matteo always seemed so sure of himself, so… collected. To hear him admit doubt was unexpected.
“Do you actually doubt yourself?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
His eyes met mine, and for once, there was no trace of his usual smugness. “All the time,” he said quietly. “But you don’t get to show that in this line of work. People expect you to have all the answers.”
I nodded, understanding more than I wanted to admit. “Yeah. Vulnerability doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.”
We sat in silence for a moment, the city’s distant hum filling the gap.
“What about you?” Matteo asked, his voice softer now. “What’s your family like?”
The question caught me off guard. I rarely talked about my family-it wasn’t exactly my favorite topic. But something about the way he asked, the way his gaze held mine, made it hard to deflect.
“They’re… complicated,” I said finally. “My dad’s this larger-than-life figure. I’ve told you about him before, haven’t I? Charming, successful, everyone loves him. Except…” I trailed off, the words sticking in my throat.
“Except you?” Matteo raised a confused brow. “You always talked about your father like you love him. It’s why you didn’t pursue writing right? To continue the family legacy.”
I shrugged, taking another sip of wine to buy time. “It’s not that I don’t love him. It’s just… hard to live up to someone who’s good at everything. Makes you feel like you’ll never be enough, you know?”
Matteo didn’t respond immediately, but his expression softened in a way that made me feel exposed.
“I get that,” he said eventually. “My dad wasn’t exactly the ‘larger-than-life’ type, I loved him very much, but he had his expectations. Made sure we knew exactly what they were, too.”
“What kind of expectations?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Matteo hesitated, his fingers tightening slightly around his glass. “That I’d be a doctor or something. Keep the family running smoothly, no matter what it cost me.”
“And did you?”
He let out a short laugh, though there was no humor in it. “I didn’t even study medicine.”
“Is that why you got into… this?” I gestured vaguely, referring to the job we both worked now-cutthroat deals, late-night negotiations with a lot of risk.
“No,” he said, meeting my gaze. “I studies business instead. Dad was disappointed at first, but he turned out to be my biggest supporter. Plus I love helping people build their career. Their dreams. From the ground. I hope I can do the same sometime too.”
The honesty in his voice surprised me. This wasn’t the Matteo I was used to-the cocky, infuriating man who always had a witty comeback. This Matteo was… vulnerable.
“What about you?” he asked, turning the question back on me. “What really made you choose this life?”
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “I guess I wanted to prove I could do it. That I wasn’t just my father’s daughter or someone’s shadow. I wanted to be… seen.”
Matteo’s gaze lingered on me, and for a moment, I felt like he really saw me-not just the polished, professional exterior I presented to the world, but the mess underneath.
“You’re more than enough, you know,” he said quietly.
The words hit me harder than I expected. I stared into the endless red of my wineglass, swallowing the lump in my throat.
We stayed there for what felt like hours, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.
It was strange, opening up to him like this. But it felt… good.
By the time we left, the city was quiet, the streets almost empty. Matteo walked beside me, his hands in his pockets, his usual confidence replaced by something quieter.
When we reached the hotel, he paused, turning to face me.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” he said, his voice low.
“Thanks for dragging me out,” I replied, offering a small smile.
For a moment, it felt like he might say something else-something important. But then he just nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a beat longer than necessary before he turned and walked away.
I watched him go, my chest tightening with emotions I didn’t want to name. Today…today he wasn’t just the guy who worked for me. He was something I wasn’t sure I was ready for. But maybe…just maybe I wanted him to be.