Chapter 34

**A L E X**

I grit my teeth, trying to force my focus back to the present, but Matteo Rossi’s presence lingers, making it impossible to think straight. I can feel his eyes on me, the weight of them, like he’s taunting me, waiting for me to snap. But I can't afford that now. Not when I need to find Grace Miller's.

I straighten up, turning away from him and forcing my focus on Maria, the store owner. She stands awkwardly, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron. I don't care if she’s nervous. She’ll talk if she knows what's good for her.

"Maria," I start, my voice rougher than I intend it to be. “I’m looking for a girl. American, dark hair, brown eyes. Her name is—”

Before I can finish, Matteo’s voice cuts through the room like a blade. "Grace Miller’s?"

I freeze, and the rage that follows is instant, white-hot, burning through me like fire. How? I whip around, my fists clenching at my sides, barely stopping myself from lunging at him right then and there. The smug bastard. He’s playing with me.

“How do you know her name?” My voice is low, barely controlled, but there’s an edge to it that could snap any second. I take a step toward him, ready to put my fist in his jaw. Matteo doesn’t flinch; instead, he just smiles, that same cold, twisted smile that always used to drive me mad when we were younger.

"Everyone knows Grace Miller’s," he says lazily, leaning back against the counter like this is all just some joke to him. "She’s been the talk of the town for a while. The American friend of Sophia Moretti, right? Coming to attend the birthday bash." He shrugs. “Beautiful, young… naïve.”

He whispers the last part, just loud enough for me to hear, and the way it rolls off his tongue makes my blood boil. I can barely see straight. My fingers twitch, desperate to slam into his face, but I hold back. Barely.

I take a deep breath, turning back to Maria. She’s pale now, eyes darting between me and Matteo like she knows something she shouldn’t. She’s scared, and rightfully so.

“Have you seen her?” I ask, trying to keep my tone level, though the anger still burns underneath.

Maria hesitates, looking down at the floor, her fingers trembling as she wrings them together. “I… I don’t know. So many Americans come in and out…”

She’s lying. I know she’s lying. But before I can press her further, Matteo interrupts again, his voice dripping with that infuriating smugness.

"Why are you even looking for her?" he asks, a mocking lilt to his voice. "A girl’s never lost in a market, if she is shopping, she’s living her life, having fun, I’m sure. None of which can be peacefully done is a Moretti’s presence.”

I train my thoughts and muscles to not react, but he is hell-bent at testing me.

“You know,” he continues, “I am very intrigued by this Grace now. A young American girl, running, hiding from the Morettis, being chased around by Alessandro Moretti himself. And yet you sweat like you’ve spent the afternoon tailing her and still no luck. And you haven’t even cursed at me for stealing your deal like it doesn’t even matter. I am starting to think I stole the wrong thing.”

Motherfucker.

His words are like gasoline on the fire already burning inside me. I snap my gaze back to him, taking a dangerous step forward.

"Whether Grace Miller’s is hiding, whether she’s running from me, or whether I’m chasing her is none of your concern," I growl, my voice low and threatening. "But I’ll tell you one thing—you will not speak her name again. If you do, I swear to God, I’ll tear that scar across your face open a second time.”

That gets to him. I see the flicker of anger in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches. Good. He deserves it. He deserves more.

For a second, the tension between us becomes unbearable, thick like the air before a storm. My fists itch to knock that smug expression off his face, and I can tell he’s just waiting for me to make the first move.

But before things can explode, Maria steps in, her voice shaky. "Please… please take this outside, both of you. My store… I can’t afford this trouble here."

She’s right. I need to calm down. We both do. Matteo exhales sharply through his nose, stepping back just a little, but the tension remains. He’s not done with me. Not by a long shot. But right now, I can’t let myself get distracted by him. I need to focus on Grace Miller’s.

I nod at Maria, thanking her quietly. "Keep an eye out for her," I say. "If you see her, you let me know. Understood?"