Chapter 32

**A L E X**


I can feel the heat on my skin, the uncomfortable sweat prickling down my neck. Not because of the Sicilian sun beating down on this ragged old market—no, it’s something far worse. It’s Grace Millers.

The last I’d heard of her was when she tried to use my card at that pathetic little dessert shop. How on earth did she manage to disappear so fast? One minute, she was there—probably causing some scene with that innocent face of hers—and the next, she’s just gone. The shop clerk said she left with some gentleman. A gentleman. Sure. I know exactly what kind of man would lure her away. And what he would do to her, especially when she is wearing that red dress. Fuck. She just couldn’t be satisfied with me losing my control, losing myself with juts one touch of her skin, just had to go ahead and fuck with my head completely. And now, I’m dragging myself through every damn store in this marketplace, scouring for any trace of her.

For Sophia’s sake, I tell myself. She’d never forgive me if something happened to her best friend. But even I can’t hide the truth from myself for too long. I’m not just doing this for Sophia. There’s something else gnawing at me, something darker, something I can’t shake. The thought of Grace being in danger, of her being somewhere unsafe—it makes me sick. Grace Millers has no idea what kind of world she’s stumbled into. What it would do to her. I told Sophia to keep her out of it, didn’t I? But it is not her fault, my sister, she’s an innocent girl. Oblivious to the tricks of her cunning friend.

Grace Millers. She just can’t help herself. Grace Miller has to play games. Has to make everything a chase. It’s like she needs to be the center of every damn thing. Maybe she’s doing this on purpose—knowing I’d come after her.

I enter another store, ignoring the curious glances from tourists who are made to leave by my men in a second. The store is dimly lit, the soft clink of old hangers on a rack barely noticeable against the pounding in my chest. This is the last place I’d expect to find answers, but desperation has a way of leading a man into strange corners.

I step through the door, eyes scanning the room as if the dim light might hide something—or someone. I nod at the shop owner, Maria, who glances up from behind her counter, her old eyes narrowing in recognition.

“Maria, Buongiorno,” I say, my voice gruff but controlled. The urge to bark out questions is strong, but I swallow it down.

"Alessandro," Maria's voice answers and i am happy I wil not need to do introductions, she remembers me. That will help solve this faster too, though I have no idea how she will be of any help.
I look around the store myself first, hopinf to find any traces of the one i’m after. She is nowhere to be seen. And I think that is annoying until I see him and taste what true hatred feels like after a long long time. Mateo Rossi.

“Mateo,” I snarl, my voice venomous, full of hatred that’s simmered for years. I want to tear him apart, limb by limb. The only thing stopping me is the fact that I am here for a different purpose and I do not want him to know any of it. I do not want him to have any idea of even the existence of Grace Millers. Because as much as I hate to admit it, I fear what he will do to her.

He smirks, that same arrogant, scarred smirk that’s been etched into my nightmares for years. Nightmares that sting, not scare. “Alex, you look like you ran across the town to come congratulate me.”

Congratulate him? I nearly laugh. My jaw clenches so tight, I can hear the metallic grinding of my teeth. He knows exactly what he’s done this morning and if that is any indicator he should know just why would be here, and it’s not to pat him on the back. To rip his fucking throat out, but that is for later. After I know Grace Millers is safe. She comes first. I look past his face, scanning the rest of the room. She’s not here. And that makes me feel relief.

"Non Adesso, uscire." I command my men who followed me in the store quitely and they exit. "I'll deal with you later Rossi,” I tell Mateo before turning to Maria. “First I have a more important matter to attend to." I cannot believe I am saying this. But again, I cannot waste time in figuring out why the mere touch of a girl’s skin has me going insane enough to not care about my failing business. Not when the said girl could be in danger right this moment.

“I could be of help if you ask nicely,” Matt’s voice cuts through my thoughts. It’s sinister, mocking. “That is, if your papa ever got a chance to teach you that before, you know…”

My blood turns to ice, freezing in my veins as the implication settles. He’s pushing buttons, trying to get under my skin, and he’s succeeding.My blood turns to ice, freezing in my veins as the implication settles. He’s pushing buttons, trying to get under my skin, and he’s succeeding.

Him and his smug scarred smile. It first makes my blood boil then turns it to ice in hate. His eyes that just missed the cut by centimetres teasing me with that defiant gaze. The jagged line across his face, running from his throat to his ear, is a permanent reminder of the night I changed both our lives.

That night.