Sofia's Pov:
It's strange how quickly a routine can begin to feel normal, even when nothing about the situation is. Every morning, I head to the café, welcomed by the familiar scent of roasted beans and the soft murmur of customers. And every evening, like clockwork, Alexandro's driver waits for me outside. He never says much, just a nod and a held door, but somehow, that quiet consistency is comforting.
Still, sometimes I catch myself wondering how I ended up here. Everything feels both familiar and foreign. Safe but uncertain.
This evening was no different, until I turned to lock up and found him standing there.
Alexandro.
He looked effortlessly striking, charcoal slacks, a white shirt unbuttoned just enough to look relaxed, and sleeves rolled to his elbows. The sight made me freeze.
"I will take you out for dinner tonight," he said, calm and direct, but his eyes held something I couldn't quite place.
I blinked, caught off guard. "I would like that," I said, hoping he couldn't hear the soft tremor in my voice.
He smiled, and just like that, my nerves started to blur into something else.
The drive to the restaurant was quiet. I leaned against the window, letting the city lights flicker across my reflection. I had not been out like this in a while. Not with someone who left me feeling like the ground might shift beneath me at any second.
The restaurant was beautiful. Warm, golden lighting. Gentle classical music. People in quiet conversation. I paused at the entrance, suddenly unsure of myself.
Alexandro must have noticed because he placed his hand lightly on my back and leaned in. "Relax," he said, his voice low and reassuring. "Just enjoy tonight."
And somehow, I did.
Our table was by the window, overlooking a shimmering canal. The dishes arrived in slow, elegant waves, each one more beautiful than the last. I found myself laughing, really hard more than I expected. He told stories with an ease I hadn't seen before. Some were light. Others carried shadows he didn't name, and I didn't ask about. But he listened to me too, really listened, as if every word mattered.
It was disarming. And unexpectedly sweet.
"I didn't think I'd laugh tonight," I murmured, swirling the last of my wine.
He leaned in just a little. "You should do it more often. It suits you."
Something fluttered in my chest.
And then, for one unguarded second, I caught myself staring at him in the candlelight, wondering how someone who seemed so hard on the outside could carry such quiet warmth underneath.
When we stood to leave, that warmth stayed with me, but so did the soft voice in my head warning me to tread carefully. My feelings were shifting, softening. And that scared me more than I wanted to admit.
Outside, the air had cooled. I pulled my cardigan tighter around myself.
"I love that you enjoyed yourself Sofia," he said, his tone softer now.
"I did," I replied with a small smile. "Thank you for tonight."
His eyes lingered on mine. For a heartbeat too long, I thought he might lean closer. But instead, he gave a small nod and opened the car door for me.
On the ride back, I watched the streets pass by, feeling something stirring inside me that I couldn't name. I didn't know where this connection between us was headed. But I knew it was real.
And that made it all the more terrifying.
Mattia's Pov:
From across the street, I sat in my car, parked in the shadows, watching through the windshield as they exited the restaurant.
Sofia looked… light. Calm. Happy, even.
And it was like a hard kick on my stomach.
I wasn't jealous. Not exactly.
It was fear.
Fear that she was slipping deeper into his world. Fear that she was not entirely aware of what that meant.
But as I watched her get into the car, safe, smiling, unharmed, my hands relaxed on the steering wheel.
She was okay. For now.
And maybe that's all I could ask for.
Back to Sofia's POV:
The ride home was quiet again, but this time, the silence felt different. Softer somehow.
I leaned into the seat, my thoughts drifting back to dinner. To the way he laughed. The stories he told. The way his eyes stayed on me like I was the only one in the room.
There was a version of him tonight that I hadn't seen before.
Gentle.
Genuine.
Almost playful.
And it unsettled me because I didn't expect it, because I liked it more than I should have.
I glanced at him beside me. His face was unreadable now, focused on the road. A thousand questions sat on the tip of my tongue, but I kept them to myself.
Then his phone rang, slicing through the quiet.
He checked the screen. "Excuse me," he said, before answering.
His tone shifted. Guarded. Serious. I turned back to the window, giving him space.
Alexandro Pov:
I could've gone home after that last meeting. That was the plan.
But I didn't.
I knew Sofia would be back soon, and she'd vanish into her room like she always does, quietly slipping into her own world where I'm only a distant presence.
I didn't want that tonight.
So, I did something I never do.
I acted on impulse.
Dinner with her… it changed something. The way she looked at me, really looked, and laughed without restraint, it did something to me.
I see how she is with Mattia. Light. Easy. Unafraid.
And I want that, too.
But more.
Deeper.
I want to be the one who pulls those smiles from her without effort. Who makes her feel safe without needing to run.
Why? Why do I want more?
I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to shake the feeling. Then my phone lit up.
Father.
"Hello, son? How are you doing?"
"I'm fine," I said, trying to sound neutral.
"I have been waiting for your call regarding the dinner. I want you to bring Sofia. Friday night. Don't keep me waiting."
Then, click.
As usual, no room for discussion.
But this time, I didn't feel like arguing. If it means having another night with her, even in his presence, I won't turn it down.
We got home not long after. She walked ahead of me, her steps quiet, her figure disappearing into the hallway like a shadow fading into moonlight.
I stayed in my room, washed up, tried to shake off the strange tension that had settled in my chest.
But the conversation with Father echoed in my mind.
If we're going to that dinner… she needs to know.
I crossed the hall and stopped in front of her door. Raised my hand.
Knock. Knock.
A beat passed.
Then the door opened.
She stood there.
And for a moment, we both froze.
Eyes locked.
Neither of us moved.