My arm throbbed, the blood pumping back through my veins along with the pins and needles after finally moving it after hours.
I should’ve felt better. But as the blood flowed back through my body, so did the reminder of what Francesca felt like against me.
I exhaled hard, shacking my head at myself in the mirror.
That girl is poison.
Chapter 13
Present
Hawaii
“FRANCESCA,” A SOFT VOICE NUDGED at the edge of my dream.
I blinked my eyes open to see Natalia smiling down at me, her hand lightly brushing my arm. “We’re about to land,” she whispered. Then she floated away, tucking herself back into her seat beside Trevor.
I sat up slowly, adjusting the blanket still tangled around me. The cabin lights had dimmed to a warm amber glow, the sky outside streaked with faint purples and oranges as we dipped lower toward Hawaii. For a moment, everything was hushed and golden – until the sudden awareness hit me.
I was alone on the couch.
The space beside me, where his warmth had anchored me, was empty.
My eyes darted instinctively across the cabin, searching – and there he was. Matteo, on the other side, stretched out in a wide leather chair opposite Tony. They were talking in low tones, heads angled toward one another, the conversation sharp in that way business always was with them.
As though sensing me, Matteo glanced up. His eyes caught mine across the cabin, steady, unreadable.
And then he looked away.
Heat flared across my cheeks, sharp and humiliating. My chest tightened as the realization set in – I’d let him touch me, let myself lean into him, fall asleep against him like some lovesick girl. And now? He couldn’t even hold my gaze.
Probably thought I was obsessed with him.
This – this right here – was exactly why I kept my distance from men. Why I’d taught myself never to show weakness. Never to soften. Matteo Di’Ablo was the perfect reminder: a jackass, a fuckboy, the type who only wanted to prove he could have me because I made it clear he couldn’t. Nothing more.
I pulled the blanket off, folding it neatly on the seat beside me, as though erasing any sign of what had just happened. The embarrassment still pulsed through me, but I forced my shoulders back, forced steel into my veins.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered. Not now, not ever.
Fine. He was an asshole. End of story.
I’d avoid Matteo for the rest of this trip if it killed me.
And maybe – maybe the Hawaiian sun, the ocean air, and all the island’s beauty would burn this strange heaviness out of me.It had to.
The jet’s tires kissed the tarmac with a soft jolt, and the sudden roar of engines reversed woke the cabin from its golden hush. I pressed a hand against the glass and peered out, and for a fleeting moment, the sour weight in my chest lightened.
Hawaii spread out beneath us like a painting come alive – velvet mountains in the distance, jagged and lush,their peaks misted with low clouds. The airport itself was small, open, palms swaying like they belonged to another world entirely. Beyond it, the sky blazed in hues of rose and tangerine as the sun sank toward the ocean’s edge, the water shimmering as though it had swallowed fire.
When the door opened, a rush of warm, floral air spilled inside, replacing the recycled chill of the jet. It wrapped around me instantly, soft and heavy with hibiscus and salt. For the first time in hours, my bones no longer ached from cold.
Kali appeared at my side like clockwork, Zane trailing just behind her, his sharp eyes sweeping the runway with the kind of vigilance I was too tired to copy. The three of us descended first, my Louboutins clicking down the narrow stairs, the humid air curling against my skin.
Behind me came Nat and Trev, fingers laced like newlyweds who hadn’t yet learned to come up for air, followed by Maria and Zach – her laugh carrying across the breeze as he whispered something into her ear.
I didn’t look back. But I felt him.
The weight of Matteo’s presence lingered, even when I refused to acknowledge it. He exited last with my brothers, their broad frames and sharp suits a dark contrast against the sunset’s softness. Their voices carried low and clipped as they spoke, but Matteo’s silence was louder than all of them.
