Chapter 31

**G R A C E**

“Does your leg still hurt?” Matt asks suddenly, his voice gentle.

I blink, caught off guard by the question. “It’s fine. Barely notice it now.”

He looks at me skeptically, his eyes narrowing slightly. He holds his hand up, and I realise his group of soldiers had bbeen following us all this time as I watch them stop behind us. “You should’ve said something. We could’ve stopped earlier.” He tells me.

“Really, it’s okay,” I insist, though the truth is, the pain has dulled to a persistent throb that I’ve been trying to ignore, and I’d love to stop for a while

Luckily, Matt reads my mind and we take a break at a small stall selling pizza a portafoglio, the kind you eat on the go, folded in half. The smell is irresistible, and I’m suddenly reminded of how hungry I am.

“Ever tried these before?” Matt asks as he hands me one.

“No,” I admit, taking a bite. “But I think I’m in love.” The cheese melts perfectly, the sauce is tangy and rich—everything you want in pizza.

He chuckles, watching me with amusement. “It’s one of the simple pleasures of life in Italy.”

We sit in companionable silence, eating our pizzas. For a moment, the world narrows to just this—good food, lively surroundings, and a strange but not unpleasant company.

As we finish eating, we head to another shop—a small boutique with a mix of vintage clothing and accessories. I’m drawn to a rack of scarves, while Matt strikes up a conversation with the shop owner, an older woman with kind eyes and a warm smile.

“Signor Rossi, it’s been too long!” she exclaims, her voice full of warmth.

“Ciao, Maria, call me Matt please” Matt replies, a genuine smile lighting up his face. “How’s business?”

“Busy, as always. The tourists keep us on our toes,” she says with a chuckle. “But it’s good to see you. And who’s this lovely young lady? Mrs. Rossi?”

Matt looks at me and food a small moment he considers me, something passing behind his eyes. Then he chuckles. “This is Grace,” he introduces, glancing at me. “She’s visiting from the States.” I notice how he never corrects her.

Maria’s eyes twinkle with curiosity. “Ah, an American! Welcome, Grace. I hope you’re enjoying our little market?”

“I am, thank you,” I reply, feeling slightly awkward under her friendly gaze.

Maria turns back to Matt, her tone growing more familiar. “I heard about the deal. Congratulations, it must have been a tough one.”

Matt nods, his expression more serious now. “It was. But it’s done, and we’re moving forward. Grace’s friend Alex, on the other hand, might not be so happy as we speak.”

“Good, good,” Maria says after watching me sharply for a second as if Matt’s second comment wasn’t made at all. “You’ve always had a good head for business, Matt. Your father would be proud.”

His smile falters for just a fraction of a second, but it’s enough for me to catch. “I hope so.”

Maria pats his arm affectionately. “You’ve done well, my boy. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Their exchange leaves me with more questions than answers. This side of Matt—kind, respectful, almost vulnerable—doesn’t fit with the man who’s been watching me so closely, hinting at darker things. Yet here he is, receiving genuine warmth from a woman who clearly cares about him.

“And what brings you here today? Never thought I’d see you step in here without Miss Bianca, how is your sister by the way?” Maria asks.

Matt chuckles, glancing at me. “Just helping this one find something special. Bianca is fine, she’s on her way here, should barge in here in a day or two.”

As he browses through a display of vintage accessories, Matt’s hand brushes over a tray of intricately designed brooches. He picks one up, turning it over in his hand with a thoughtful expression. “This,” he says and turns to me. I step beside him, curious. The brooch is delicate, adorned with small gemstones that catch the light beautifully. It’s the kind of piece that would’ve belonged to someone with impeccable taste—a touch of elegance that whispers of another time.

“This would’ve matched perfectly with the heel you were wearing earlier,” Matt says, his tone warm as he holds it up for me to see. “It’s still in the car. You could match it up some other time.”

I smile, imagining the pairing. “Yeah, makes sense,” I reply, taking the brooch from him.

“You know,” he adds, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone, “this would look amazing in your hair.” Before I can respond, he gently gathers a loose strand of my hair, carefully pinning it back with the brooch. His fingers are surprisingly gentle, and for a moment, the world outside fades, leaving just me and the little brooch in my hair.

“There,” he says softly, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “Perfect.”

Maria, the shop owner, watches us with a smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh, that looks perfect!” she exclaims, reaching for a vintage camera on the counter. “Hold still for a moment.”

She quickly snaps a picture of us, the camera’s flash momentarily blinding me. “I like to keep photos of all the beautiful shoppers, especially couples who visit,” she says, already placing the photo on a board filled with similar images.

“We’re not a couple,” I say quickly, feeling a bit flustered.

Maria waves it off with a laugh. “It’s fine, dear. Nobody has to know. Just a little souvenir for the shop.”

Matt chuckles beside me, clearly enjoying the moment. “Well, it’s nice to be part of the tradition, even if just for a moment.” I feel a little conscious at his suggestive comment, but I think it's best to not ponder on it.

I guess Maria senses my discomfort and feels guilty for putting me on the spot so she immediately changes topics by pushing me into one of the dressing rooms with a few dresses she thinks I should definitely take home. As if on cue, the moment I step in and pull the curtains, I hear the bell ring at the door followed by sound of heavy hurried footsteps. Suddenly the room falls eerily silent and I feel the urge to peek out to find out who just entered but at the same time something tells me it is best for me to dig out a tunnel in the wall behind me and disappear.

All my questions and confusions are answered when he breaks the silence, "Maria, Buongiorno." His voice is so familiar even when it is glazed with that heavy italian accent.

"Alessandro," Maria's voice answers and hear his full name for the first time. There is a pause but it is not comforting at all and I realise what must be happening. Matt is in the room, and Alex has just lost his very important deal to him. That is probably why he is here.

"Mateo," he says with a voice that somehow sounds even more hateful than usual and I know he is here to kill him. And once he finds me here, he will remember how I ditched him, and ran away with his card only to party and shop with his nemesis, he will kill me too.

God. Fuck.

"Alex, you look like you ran across the town to come congratulate me." So close, he's come to kill you actually.

I cannot see it but I can totally picture the click in Alex's jaw so vividly that I almost also imagine the sound of it, loud and metalic like a gun preparing to shoot.

"Non Adesso, uscire." he says quitely and I hear some heavy shuffling and a few footsteps, making me wonder what he means and who are the other people in the room. Then he adds, "I'll deal with you later Rossi, first I have a more important matter to attend to." Alex sounds like he is restraining the anger of fifteen geenrations. I can't imagine what could be more important though.

"I could be of help if you ask nicely, that is if your papa ever got a chance to teach you that before, you know..." Matt says in a voice so sinister I'm suddenly reminded of the first eerie feeling I got when I met him at the cafe. What is this man really?

There is silence and then he speaks addressing the store owner. "Maria, I'm looking for a girl, american, dark hair, brown eyes, her name is.."

I have stopped breathing and my heart is beating in my chest as I wait for him to complete but before he can, Matt decides to absolutely plan a join funeral for us both as he interrupts him and says, "Grace Millers?"