163

163
Gianna’s POV
I couldn’t get his voice out of my head.
“I’m in love with you.”
The words had hit me like a sucker punch, leaving me breathless and unsteady. Hours later, I was still sitting at my desk, staring blankly at the screen as if sheer willpower could force my brain to focus on the numbers in front of me. But it was no use. My mind was a battlefield, and Matteo’s words were winning every skirmish.
What scared me the most wasn’t that he said it. It wasn’t even the raw, unflinching way he’d looked at me when he did. No, what terrified me was the fact that some part of me wanted to believe him. That part of me wanted to convince me that he was telling the truth. That he does love me. And I was fighting that part with every fibre of my being.
I pushed my chair back with a sigh, rubbing at my temples. The office was empty now, save for the cleaning crew somewhere down the hall. The stillness should have been comforting, but it only amplified the chaos in my head.
I’d spent my entire career-hell, my entire life-building walls. Neat, sturdy, impenetrable walls that kept everything in its rightful place. Work here. Emotions over there. And Matteo… Matteo was a wrecking ball. He was breaking down those walls with much more force than I expected. And I doubted he even knew that.
My phone buzzed on the desk, and I glanced at the screen. A message from Claire.
“How’s the project going? Remember, don’t let distractions derail you.”
Distractions.
I clenched my jaw, a fresh wave of guilt washing over me. Claire had always been direct, but her words carried a deeper meaning now. She was right. Matteo was a distraction. A dangerously tempting one.
But was that all he was? Was he really not worth it as I’ve been convincing myself?
I stood abruptly, grabbing my coat and bag. Staying here wasn’t helping. Maybe a walk would clear my head.
The city was alive. Literally. It always was at this hour. Couples laughed as they strolled past cafes, the scent of coffee and fresh pastries wafting through the air. A street musician played a soulful tune on his saxophone, the notes drifting into the crisp night like a conversation meant only for the stars.
I found myself at the park, the familiar path crunching under my boots as I walked. Matteo’s voice played on a loop in my mind.
“You’re scared.”
The worst part was, he wasn’t wrong.
I hated that he saw through me, that he could unearth truths I wasn’t ready to face. But wasn’t that what I’d admired about him from the start? His ability to read people, to understand what they needed even before they did? It made him an exceptional leader, but now… it felt like a curse.
“Stop being a coward,” he’d said.
Coward.
The word tasted bitter. I’d spent my whole life proving I wasn’t one. Growing up, I’d watched my mother sacrifice her dreams for people who didn’t deserve her. She’d been kind, patient, and giving, and it had gotten her nowhere. I promised myself I’d be different. I wouldn’t need anyone. I wouldn’t let myself need anyone.
And yet, here I was. I took in a deep breath, shaking my head slightly as I turned away from the park, heading back to the office.
The next morning, I walked into the office with a carefully curated mask of indifference. My heels clicked against the polished floor as I passed workers who greeted me with polite smiles. I returned them, even though my mind was elsewhere.
Matteo wasn’t at his desk when I arrived. His absence felt… off. It wasn’t unusual for him to have early meetings or be out on site visits, but today, the silence from his corner was oppressive.
I shook it off and buried myself in work, hoping the mountain of tasks on my to-do list would keep my thoughts at bay. For a while, it worked. Emails, reports, phone calls-it all blurred together in a steady rhythm that left little room for introspection.
But then lunch rolled around, and I caught myself glancing at the door. Twice.
By the time he finally walked in, I was so frustrated with myself that I almost didn’t notice him. Almost.
Matteo had a way of commanding attention, even when he wasn’t trying to. His suit was perfectly tailored, as always, but there was something different about him today. He looked… tired. Worn down in a way I hadn’t seen before.
He caught my eye for a brief moment, but instead of the usual smirk or knowing glance, he simply nodded and walked to his desk.
Something twisted in my chest and pulled at my heart strings so hard that it hurt.
The hours dragged on. Matteo and I crossed paths a few times, exchanging brief, professional words when necessary, but that was it. No teasing remarks. No stolen glances. Just silence.
I hated it.
By the time the end of the day rolled around, I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed… something. Closure, maybe. Or clarity. So I found myself walking to his office.
I knocked on the open door to his office, and he looked up, surprised but guarded.
“Got a minute?” I asked.
“Sure.” His tone was neutral, but his eyes searched mine.
I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. The air between us was charged, heavy with unspoken words.
“I wanted to talk about yesterday,” I began, my voice more uncertain than I’d like.
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Alright.”
I hesitated, unsure where to start. “I-what you said… it caught me off guard.”
“Which part?” he asked, his voice calm but pointed. “The part where I told you I love you, or the part where I called you a coward?”
I flinched, but he didn’t back down.
“I’m trying to understand,” I said, my voice softer now. “Why me? Why now?”
He studied me for a moment before answering. “Because you make me feel like no one else ever has. Because I see something in you that you’re too scared to see in yourself. And because I’m tired of pretending that what we have isn’t real.”
His words hit me like a tidal wave, overwhelming and undeniable.
“I don’t know if I can give you what you want,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m not asking for promises, Gianna,” he said, his tone gentler now. “I’m asking for a chance.”
The room felt impossibly small, the distance between us shrinking with every passing second.
“I don’t know if I’m ready,” I said, my voice trembling.
“Then take your time,” he said simply. “But don’t shut me out. Don’t shut this out.”
His gaze held mine, steady and unyielding, and for the first time, I let myself really feel the promise of what he was offering.
It scared me.
But maybe, just maybe, it didn’t have to.