Chapter 53 Green Juice and Red Flags
Valentina
Matteo’s hand stayed warm and steady on my thigh, anchoring me to the moment with a kind of quiet, possessive comfort I had no business enjoying.
I smiled politely, reaching for the linen napkin beside my plate. As I did, the sleeve of my hoodie slipped up past my elbow—and just like that, my carefully curated calm shattered.
“Ah,” Alessio said, his voice low and curious. “My dear principessa… what happened to your arm?”
Shit.
I froze for half a second—just long enough to feel every gaze at the table snap to me—then tugged the sleeve back down like it had betrayed me.
“It’s nothing,” I said lightly. “I caught it on something during the flight back. Clumsy moment, that’s all.”
“Caught it on what?” Alessio asked, frowning. “Was it something in the cabin? A sharp edge? A latch?”
I shook my head quickly. “No, nothing like that. I was just a bit wobbly during the turbulence, probably grazed it on the doorframe going to the bathroom.”
Alessio hummed, not convinced. “Hmm. Perhaps I should have someone inspect the plane interior. If there’s a safety hazard, it needs to be corrected immediately.”
“It’s really not necessary,” I said, forcing a laugh. “I bruise like a peach. Honestly, it’s embarrassing how easily it happens.”
Across from me, Luca shifted.
The movement was subtle. A straightening of his spine. A blink too long. A hand tightening around his fork just before he set it down with forced care.
Alessio’s gaze flicked lazily in his direction. “Are you feeling alright, Luca? You look pale. And clammy. That’s never a good combination.”
“Just a touch of jet lag,” Luca said, voice even. “And maybe a little too much wine on the flight. You know how it is.”
“Oh?” Alessio’s brow lifted. “I didn’t realize you were on the flight. Matteo and Valentina were supposed to be returning alone, weren’t they?”
Matteo didn’t miss a beat.
“We were,” he said smoothly. “Luca and Arianna showed up at the villa the morning after we arrived. Caught us by surprise, actually.”
Alessio turned to Luca again, his smile polite, but sharp enough to draw blood.
“You interrupted their honeymoon?” he asked mildly. “That’s unlike you, my boy. Thought I made it clear they were to have the island to themselves.”
Luca hesitated, just a blink too long. “I thought they were in Greece,” he said, shrugging. “That’s where you said you were sending them.”
Alessio’s smile didn’t waver. “Did I?”
Beneath the table, Matteo’s fingers squeezed my thigh once. A silent, firm press of approval.
Good girl.
But I hadn’t done it on purpose. The bruises weren’t bait. I’d simply forgotten they were there, forgotten to keep the mask sealed tight across every inch of skin. The fallout was accidental—but now that the avalanche had started, I wasn’t about to stop it.
I reached for my coffee mug again and sipped, steady as ever.
“Funny,” Alessio said, sipping his green juice with infuriating grace. “So many little misunderstandings these days. Location mix-ups. Schedules overlapping. Bruises with no clear explanation.”
He leaned back in his chair, glancing at each of us in turn.
“It makes one wonder,” he mused, “what else I’m not being told.”
Arianna looked like she wanted to sink into the floor.
Luca stared fixedly at his plate, a single vein pulsing in his temple.
And Matteo?
Matteo looked deadly calm. The kind of calm that meant someone was about to lose something they couldn’t afford to.
“I think,” Alessio continued, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin, “I’ll have someone pull the security footage from the flight. Just to be sure there’s no issue with the plane interior. We can’t have our new bride injuring herself, can we?”
“Of course not,” Matteo said.
And for once, we were in complete agreement.
I smiled again, softer this time.
Luca was sweating.
Arianna was trembling.
And me?
I just sat there in my hoodie and sweatpants, sipping coffee like I hadn’t just lit a match and dropped it into a room full of gas.
By accident.
Mostly.
I took another long sip of my coffee, holding the mug like it could shield me from the tension crackling around the table.
“Excuse me,” I said, setting the mug down gently. “I need to check in with my company. It’s been almost two weeks, and between the wedding, the island, and the travel, I’ve barely touched base with my team. I’m sure they’re overwhelmed.”
Alessio gave a gracious nod. “Of course. Duty calls.”
Matteo stood as I did. “I’ve got some work to handle myself.”
The moment we stepped out of the dining room and the door clicked shut behind us, Matteo turned to me with a sly little smirk.
“That was a very smooth setup,” he said under his breath.
I blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
He leaned in slightly, one hand brushing the small of my back as we walked down the hall like we were just another newlywed couple sharing a morning stroll. “The bruise. The story. Luca panicking. Alessio biting. The whole performance? Flawless.”
I stopped walking.
“That wasn’t a performance,” I said, voice low. “It was a complete accident. I forgot the bruise was there.”
Matteo arched a brow. “Seriously?”
“I was wearing a hoodie. I didn’t think I’d have to defend my forearms over breakfast.”
He laughed once—soft but deep—and it vibrated through the air like a rumble of distant thunder.
“You do realize what you just did, right?” he said. “Alessio’s now has ‘an excuse’ to full the security footage. He’s already seen the video, I made sure of it but without a legitimate reason for him to look it over and he brought it up to Luca, it would look like you ratted him out.”
“How has he already seen it?” I asked.
“Last night I pulled it up on my laptop knowing he would have a snoop at my screen if I walked out of the room.”
“Well their rope is getting tighter by the minute isn’t it?”
Matteo only grinned.
“So,” I said, changing the subject with a sharp pivot. “Do you actually have work, or was that just an excuse to follow me out?”
“A little of both.”
We reached the central split in the corridor—his office to the right, my wing to the left.
He paused, looking at me like he might say something else. Something real.
Instead, he just offered a simple, “Good luck with your team.”
“Good luck with your empire.”
He smiled. “Mine for now.”
“For always, if you play it right.”
I walked away before he could see the grin I bit back.
Because the bruises might’ve been real.
The accident might’ve been honest.
But the effect?
The fire I’d just lit under Luca and Arianna?
That was mine.
And now all I had to do… was let it burn.