Clearly, after this morning’s interaction, she isn’t ready to talk.
I’m halfway through making my sandwich when I hear a blood-curdling scream from her apartment.
“Beatrice.”
I spring into action, grab my gun from the drawer, and rush out of my penthouse toward hers. I’m at her door in seconds, gun raised and ready.
“Oh my God!” she screams again.
I jiggle the handle, but it doesn’t budge. Her next scream is louder—sharper—and it sends me into primal mode. I move on pure instinct, driven by the need to get to her.
I take a few steps back and kick the door.
Once.Twice. Three times.
The hard wood splinters and gives way. I push through the frame, gun up, scanning the space for any threat.
“Beatrice—what’s wrong? I—what the hell?”
She’s standing on top of the kitchen island—wild-eyed, barefoot, gripping a broom like she’s about to lead an uprising.
Sports bra.Boy shorts. Legs bare.
And screaming at—
“A spider,” I mutter, taking in the chaos.
“Oh my God, it’s HUGE!” she squeals, jabbing the broom downward like she’s fencing with death itself.
The spider twitches. She shrieks again and takes a heroic swing… missing by an entire zip code.
“Why my HOUSE?” she yelps.
I lower my gun, stare at her, then at the tiny creature on the floor. “Jesus Christ, Beatrice. You screamed bloody murder for a damn spider?”
She ignores me completely.
“Don’t just stand there!” she shouts. “KILL IT!”
I blink at her. Then at the spider. Then back at her.
And, God help me, I almost laugh. Almost.
I raise my gun half an inch.
“What doyou want me to do? Shoot it?”
She glares from her island throne likeI’mthe crazy one.
“I wantyou to kill it. If you shoot, you’ll miss, it’ll run, and then I’ll have to MOVE OUT.”
My lips twitch. “Are you serious?”
“Deathly.”
I sigh, tuck the gun into the back of my waistband. “Alright, warrior princess. Stay put. I’ll handle your… beast.”
She clutches the broom like it’s a lifeline. “I’m serious, Matteo. It lunged at me. I swear it tried to kill me.”
