Three dots appeared. Then vanished. Then it appeared again.
Matteo:
Scandal is hotter when I’m involved. Save it for me, Moretti.
I was still grinning when the suite door swung open thirty minutes later. I turned, expecting Matteo alone.
Instead, he walked in surrounded by a full entourage—Lucia, holding little Gianna on her hip, and behind them…two familiar faces.
“Surprise!” Matteo beamed, sweeping into the room like a ray of golden sunlight.
I blinked. “Wait. Are those?—?”
“My parents,” he said, grinning. “They flew in last night. Lucia and I picked them up this morning, and I might have conspired with your father for the two extra tickets.” His eyes sparkled with mischief.
My heart skidded in my chest, “I was wondering about those mystery tickets!” I could feel the emotion welling in my chest, I blinked a few times knowing the pure adoration was there.
Lucia laughed lightly, adjusting Gianna on her hip. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him it was overkill. But I did warn him that showing up to a gala with his entire family might read as overwhelming.”
“Hey,” Matteo said with mock offense, wrapping an arm around his sister’s shoulders. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”
Gianna let out a squeal at the exact moment Matteo’s mother rushed forward and hugged me, tightly, like we’d known each other forever. I barely had time to respond before his father followed, shaking my hand with a warmth that settled somewhere deep in my ribs.
Matteo stood behind them, eyes locked on mine, a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth.
“You didn’t have to—” I started.
“I wanted to,” he said simply. “They’ve been asking about you nonstop. Figured if we were going public tonight, it should be with the people who matter most standing beside us.”
My chest tightened. And just like that, every fear I had about this becoming too real, too loud, too big—faded. Because there he was, giving me all of himself. His world. His family. His love. He crossed the room to me slowly, hands finding my waist,eyes softening. “Still want to go solo and start a scandal?” he whispered.
I leaned in close, voice low, “I’d rather have your hand in mine DeLuca. You’ve turned me into a romantic.”
His answering smile was the kind that made everything else fall away.
Somehow, being surrounded by the DeLuca family didn’t feel overwhelming. Instead, it was easy.
Being with you is easy.Matteo’s words bounced around in my mind. It felt simple but monumental at the same time. I was slowly getting used to this feeling of being loved, of the people who cared about me actually caring, not using me or talking about me behind my back like in past relationships. Everything with Matteo was bright and new.
I loved him. I loved him so much it felt like it was bursting from me.
With the day to spend together, we left the hotel as a group early and wandered through a quieter corner of the city, where the buildings were sun-washed and crumbling in the way that made everything feel timeless. Matteo held my hand like he didn’t care who saw. His thumb traced the inside of my wrist as we walked, like he couldn’t help touching me.
We stopped at a quiet café tucked between two ivy-covered buildings. His mother insisted I try the sfogliatelle, claiming no one in Rome made them quite like this. Matteo’s father told old stories about Matteo’s childhood—how he used to sneak outto race mopeds and once got grounded for spray-painting a makeshift finish line across their driveway.
Matteo groaned, “Papà, seriously?” I laughed so hard I almost choked.
“Tell her about the time you crashed Zio Luca’s Vespa into Nonna’s tomato cart,” Lucia added, stirring sugar into her espresso with a grin.
“Traitors,” Matteo muttered under his breath, but his smile betrayed him.
Gianna sat in Matteo’s lap, happily smearing apricot jam on his shirt with sticky fingers, and he didn’t even flinch. He just kissed the top of her head and whispered something that made her giggle.
Later, as we walked a little behind everyone, Matteo pulled me aside beneath a row of cypress trees. The others kept walking, giving us a few moments of quiet.
He stopped and turned toward me, brushing my hair back from my face. “You okay?” he asked softly.
“More than okay,” I said, searching his eyes. “Your family…they’re wonderful.”
