I flinch at the sudden bang which rings through the empty halls of the penthouse.

What the hell is that crazy man up to now?

Slipping from my bed, I leave behind the mounds of blankets which I had been cocooned in for the past hour, thinking about how shit my life is at the moment, and all the questions I want answered. Cookie crumbs fall from my lap onto the carpeted floor, and I leave a trail from the bed to the door until I step outside and shake the rest of the debris off of me.

"Cazzo! Avevo tutto sotto controllo..." (Fuck! I had everything under control...) Matteo yells from down the hall and in his office. His voice is deep and ragged, and even from where I am standing, I can hear his shallow, laboured breaths.

I take a step in his direction. "Stavo per sistemare tutto!" (I was going to fix everything!) Another crash echoes and I falter in my steps.

Maybe I shouldn't go any further.

I don't need to deal with him, after everything he's done to me... Put me through hell and back, I should leave him be.

I don't need to deal with his wrath.

I don't need to put myself through the pain that is Matteo Giovanni.

But if I don't need to do any of that, why am I feeling a pull towards him? Why do I want to know what is wrong? Why am I worried... For him?

Fuck, I can't be developing Stockholm, can I?

I take a hesitant step in his direction. I'll just see what's wrong, and then leave.

I won't talk to him, I'll just have a look inside.

Shuffling towards his office, I stand outside his door, and peer through the small crack where the door was left ajar.

I can't see much besides part of his desk and the window. His shadow dances along the floor as he paces up and down the room. And then suddenly, there's another crash and I watch as if in slow motion, a book stand flies across the room, smashing against the wall.

I gasp and stumble backwards.

"Non nasconderti dietro la porta, se hai qualcosa da dire, dillo." (Don't hide behind the door, if you have something to say, say it.) Matteo growls from inside his office.

Heat rises in my cheeks from having been discovered instantly. A strange sense of Deja vu washes over me, reminding me of the first ever time I met him.

I had fallen into his office, after listening in on him talking about cutting off a man's head. I remember being terrified, yet so drawn to this handsome, dark man. If only I had trusted my gut instinct and everything around me, I wouldn't be where I am now.

Though, I wouldn't have met any of the people I have come to grow close to.

My thoughts wander to Scott.

I hope he's alright. I hate to admit it, but I haven't been thinking about him much lately. Though, I can't seem to think much about anything. As long as he's safe, I can have some peace of mind, and from what I can tell, Matteo and his men haven't discovered him yet.

"I--I wasn't..." I begin, and my eyes widen in surprise when he suddenly opens the door. He towers over me, and stares down menacingly, boring a hole into my skull.

"Hm? Spit it out. Tell me how much you fucking hate me." He grits.

I feel a slight pang in my chest. Why the fuck am I hurt by his words?

"I just... I heard a noise, and came to check if everything was alright." I say.

His face doesn't change from his hardened expression, and only stays cold and distant. "Is that all?" He questions.

I shake my head warily.

"Then you can fuck off now." He says, slamming the door in my face.

I take a step backwards and find that my mouth is slightly parted in shock. Never has Matteo spoken to me like that. He's always been condescending and rude... But never that aggressive.

Whatever. He can act that way, it doesn't matter to me. As long as he takes me to that funeral, then I'll let him say whatever the fuck he wants to say to me. I'll let him spit on me even... As long as I'm able to go to that funeral and save Alice. Even if it means that I'm risking myself.

No one will die because of me. I already experienced what it felt like to think I'd left someone to die. To think that they actually were dead. If that were to happen again... I don't think I'd be able to live with myself. I don't think I'd be able to live at all.

I turn away from the office door slowly, and set a path to the kitchen to pick up some more cookies before going back to my room, but I stop myself when I hear a muffled sound on the other side of Matteo's door.

I take a deep breath.

I am not going to go in there. I don't need to go in.

He told me to fuck off, so that's exactly what I'm going to do.

But I can't help myself when I pick up his next few very faint words. "Mi dispiace di averti deluso, mamma." (I'm sorry I let you down, Mum.)

I don't know what I'm doing until it's too late.

My hand is latched around the door handle, and I'm slipping into Matteo's office.

My eyes land upon him hunched over in his desk chair, leaning his elbows on his desk. For the first time since I've met Matteo, he looks vulnerable. His hair is messy and his suit jacket is heaped on the floor, while the top few buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing the muscle beneath.

He looks unkempt and I must say, it's an unnerving sight to behold.

I didn't think anything could bother this man. But whatever happened seems to be eating him from the inside out.

He doesn't notice me come in, and continues to whisper indistinguishable words in Italian.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

His eyes flick up at me, surprise and shock mixed with a terrible amount of sadness.

"Per favore, I do not want you here." He rasps.

"Tell me what's wrong." I demand, straightening my posture, though my voice barely holds any authority compared to his. Matteo doesn't seem impressed and he squints his eyes.

"I asked you nicely." He says.

Does he call slamming a door in my face, 'asking nicely'?

"I'm not going to leave until you tell me what's wrong."

I watch as he rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair.

"Harry has taken Dante." He blows out a breath, as if saying it out loud is lifting a weight off of his shoulders.

"W-what?" I stutter.

"He didn't trust that I would bring you to the funeral, so he thought I required extra motivation."

I take a few steps towards him. "You--You are taking me, right?"

Matteo laughs, though it's cold and distant. "I have no choice. Whatever I do has an unfavourable outcome... There's no other way than to take you to that funeral."

I nod, relieved that he hasn't changed his mind.

"Will you let him kill me?" I whisper, more to myself, then to him, but he hears all the same.

He doesn't reply.

I purse my lips, maybe I shouldn't have asked that. "It's not your fault." I say.

Matteo tilts his head to the side slightly. "What is this?" He asks.

"What?"

"You just discovered that I knew who your father was all along... That you have a brother who wants to murder you. Why are you talking to me all of a sudden, why are you acting like you care?" He asks, his face looks pained and that strange pain in my chest returns.

"Because..." What the fuck am I supposed to say?

"Mia, I can't deal with this right now. I can't deal with you acting like this, while I know that tomorrow morning, you will be back to hating me... Please leave." His eyes are dark as usual, but there is a strange glint of sadness in them.

"Matteo--I-"

"Per favore." (Please.) He begs.

I bite my lip and nod.

He's right. What was I even thinking? Tomorrow morning everything will be the way it was, and I'll regret even talking to him.

But if that's the case, then why do I feel like shit?

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