“Where the hell have you been?” He asked the moment he spotted me. “You have to fly out to Vegas. Urgently.”
My steps faltered. “What? Now?”
“Yes, now. A situation came up.”
“But we were going to have breakfast in town – ”
“You can eat on the plane.”
“Yeah, but I really wanted to go into town – ”
“So, you waited until the last day to do it?” He lifted a brow, his tone turning sharp.
The bite of his words stung more than I wanted to admit. My jaw clicked, ready to defend myself, but Matteo stepped forward before I could say anything.
“Gìo,” He said, calm but firm, his voice carrying that quiet authority that made people listen.
My brother turned his head toward him, exhaling through his nose. “This is important.”
“I know,” Matteo replied smoothly. “But we can make it work. I’ll fly to Vegas with her. Handle the business together, make sure she’s got what she needs.”
Something in Gìo’s expression shifted at that. He eyed Matteo for a long second, then looked back at me, assessing.
“That might actually be a good idea,” he said finally. “Two heads are better than one.”
Matteo shot me a sideways glance – steady, composed, like he’d just rerouted a bomb without breaking a sweat. I wasn’t sure whether to thank him or strangle him for being so calm while I was still trying to process the emotional whiplash.
Breakfast in town was gone. Reality had come crashing back in, sharp as the Vegas-bound jet waiting for us, reminding me exactly what the past week had been. A fantasy.
Half an hour later, at seven sharp, the two of us were in the sky.
Matteo’s jet sliced cleanly through the early morning clouds, the world below still tinted with that sleepy golden light that made everything feel softer, quieter. Inside, the cabin smelled faintly of warm pastries and coffee, the air-conditioned cool a stark contrast to the Hawaiian humidity we’d left behind. Cream leather seats, dark wood paneling, and soft ambient lighting gave the space an almost cocoon-like warmth – private, elegant, untouchable.
We sat across from each other at a small, glossy table near the window. Breakfast had been laid out beautifully: fresh fruit platters, croissants still steaming from the oven, tiny jars of honey and jam, and two plates of fluffy omelets with herbs sprinkled on top. A silver coffee carafe gleamed between us, still steaming.
Matteo leaned back in his seat, his white linen shirt freshly changed, the morning light brushing the strong lines of his face. There was a boyish glint in his eyes as he lifted his coffee cup toward me.
“Now, I know it’s not Hawaii, but it’s a start.”
I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Thank you, Matteo. This is really sweet.”
He shrugged lightly, but his gaze lingered on me just long enough to make my stomach flutter. “Can’t have you running around hungry,Donna.”
For a while, we talked business. Vegas wasn’t for pleasure – it never was. I had to meet with some lawyers and accountants regarding one of our family’s investment shells; endless paperwork, contracts, tax strategy… the kind of work that didn’t make headlines but kept the empire standing. Just thinking about it made my shoulders tighten.
“Gìo should really be handling this,” I muttered, twirling my fork through the fruit salad. “He’s the boss. Legal logistics is his thing.”
“You’re the best,” Matteo replied, matter-of-fact. “That’s why they trust you with this kind of work.”
I sighed, leaning my cheek against my palm. His eyes softened slightly.
“Alright,” he said, setting his fork down. “Gods of the air. Zeus, obviously – but there were others too. Aeolus, master of the winds. Ever read the Odyssey?”
My head perked up immediately. “Of course.”
The corners of his lips curved, pleased by my reaction. “Then you’ll know Aeolus gave Odysseus that bag of winds to help him sail home. Imagine trusting someone that much – with the weather itself.”
I laughed softly. “Or imagine opening it by accident, and losing everything you’d gained. Which is exactly what happened.”
