Chapter 38

**G R A C E**

He's here.

Fuck.

That's him. That's definitely him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The water clings to my skin like a second layer, heavy and cold, as I stay still, waiting for Alex to appear into the backyard anytime now. My breath is shallow, and I silently hope it’s not who I think it is. But who else could it be

The sound of footsteps grows louder. Not hurried, not aggressive, just steady. Then, from the corner of my eye, I catch a figure moving toward the backyard.

Matt.

I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. But as the relief washes over me, a strange, bitter disappointment settles in my chest. Why do I feel… let down? I didn’t want Alex to be here. Did I?
Matt steps outside, making me sink in lower is shock. What is he doing here? On Alex’s island? Something’s wrong.

When he sees me, his eyes go wide for a split second, as if this is not what he expected to see. I guess that’s fair. Buthe rocovers soon and find comfort in watching me, crouching near the edge of the pool, and dips his fingers into the water. His touch causes tiny ripples to expand outward, and I feel myself recoil inwardly.

"Morning," he says casually, as if we’re just two old friends catching up. "I thought I’d check on your leg, but you seem fine enough to go for a swim."

I blink, unsure of how to respond. "Yeah, I’m fine." My voice sounds distant, even to me, the lingering confusion still clouding my thoughts. I wade to the edge of the pool, feeling the shirt I borrowed from Alex cling to my body as I rise out of the water only enough to let my shoulders breathe. My heart pounds, and for a second, I’m hyper-aware of how exposed I am.

Matt’s eyes flicker up and down my face, taking in every inch of me visible to him. There’s something deliberate about the way he does it, as if he wants me to know that he’s looking. His gaze lingers on my wet shirt, his lips tugging into a slow, almost teasing smile. I cross my arms instinctively, hugging the drenched fabric to my chest.

"You look surprised to see me." His voice is light, but there’s something beneath it. Amusement, maybe? Satisfaction?

"What are you doing here?" I ask, trying to sound more composed than I feel. The water from my hair drips down my neck, adding to the cold sensation already pricking at my skin at the sight of him in my beach house.

No, I remind myself. This isn’t your house. It’s Alex’s. You’re just borrowing it.

Matt chuckles softly, clearly catching my internal struggle. “You forget so quickly, Grace. Didn’t I tell you? I’m an acquaintance of the Morettis. I came to celebrate the princess’ birthday… just like you.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You stole his business deal, and now you’re here to celebrate his sister’s birthday? What kind of twisted relationship do you guys have?”

He grins at my accusation, shrugging. “Complicated. But isn’t that what makes things fun?”

I want to push, to understand more, but I already know I won’t get a straight answer. Matt’s cryptic words leave me feeling more curious, but I’m careful not to show it. "And what are you doing in my house?"

He stands up, brushing the moisture off his hands. "Your house?" His eyes gleam with amusement, like he’s enjoying watching me fumble through this. "I came to see Alex. It’s his house, after all. He never lets anyone in here. Must mean you’re special. But again, I should’ve caught on to that by now." He adds the last part while rubbing his fingers on his forehead.

I swallow hard, uncomfortable with the implications of his words. My throat tightens as memories of Alex, his gun aimed at Matt, flash in my mind. I try to steady my voice. “That was because of the deal you stole.”
Matt laughs softly, shaking his head. “I doubt it. He hasn’t mentioned the deal once since it happened. But I’ll find out when I see him."

My stomach knots at the thought of him and Alex meeting. I still don’t understand what kind of game they’re playing, but I’m sure it’s dangerous. "Where is he?" Matt asks, his eyes already scanning the area as if he might spot Alex walking in.

Panic rises in my chest. I can’t let Matt go upstairs and into my space. “He’s not here,” I blurt out, moving quicker than I should, my legs propelling me out of the pool. “He’s… not in my… his room.”

Matt pauses, his brow lifting slightly. I freeze, realizing too late that my wet shirt is plastered to my skin, revealing more than I’m comfortable with. I cross my arms again, my body tingling with cold and embarrassment.

Instead of turning away, Matt stares, his eyes tracing the outline of my figure, lingering on the wet shirt clinging to me. His gaze is slow, deliberate, and uncomfortably thorough.

“Sorry, what was that?” he asks, stepping closer, his voice low and mocking.

“Can you… turn around?” My words are small, but I’m not about to let him continue gawking. I tighten my grip on the fabric clinging to me, trying to shield myself from his eyes.

But he doesn’t move. Instead, his gaze travels from my face, down to my wet lips, then lower, to my neck and my chest. His eyes linger there, before dipping lower, catching the bandage on my leg. He studies it for a moment, then looks back at me with an unreadable expression. “You know,” he drawls shifting his weight between his legs as if he is trying his best to not step closer, “the more you don’t explain why you’re here, half-naked in Alex’s pool, in his shirt, the more I’m forced to imagine. And let me tell you, it’s not looking good.”

Heat rises to my cheeks, a mix of anger and shame. I square my shoulders. “He’s letting me stay here,” I manage, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. “This is his house, yes, but I’m staying here because it’s close to Sophie’s. He moved into the mansion.”

Matt’s eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering in his expression. “Alex Moretti… moved into his father’s mansion?” He sounds like he’s processing the information, almost as if it’s something significant. “Just to let you stay here? Alone?”

I nod, confused by his reaction. “Yeah. Why?”

Matt smirks, clearly deciding to not give me my answer. “That’s… nice to hear.” His voice is coated with something slick and suggestive. “I think I’ll go find him at the mansion then.” He turns toward the house, ready to leave, but not without one last parting shot. “It was nice meeting you like this. Very nice.”

I clench my jaw, feeling a rush of self-consciousness. “White suits you,” he adds over his shoulder, smirking. “Maybe we should’ve bought something in white.” He pauses before leaving. “We could go again sometime.”
I don’t answer, my frustration mounting as I watch him walk away, his carefree attitude leaving me cold.

Just as he reaches the doorway, he grabs a towel from the rack and tosses it back to me. I catch it, clutching it to my chest, and watch him leave, the tension in my body refusing to ease even as he disappears.
I let out a breath, wrapping the towel around myself. My mind should be racing with questions about Matt, about what he’s really after, but all I can think about is Alex. He left me here, in his shirt, his house, his world—and the least he could’ve done is check on me himself.

I decide to push both of them out of my mind. I need to see Sophia. There's so much catching up to do.