Chapter 7 Nicola #2
“It was for my daughter,” Anna said softly. “All of it. Her future. School. College. Everything.”
“Oh, Anna…”
She shrugged, but her voice wavered. “So yeah. It’s just been…a lot.”
I reached over and grabbed her hand. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry you’ve been dealing with all of this.”
Anna exhaled shakily and leaned into my shoulder.
“Don’t worry,” she muttered. “I’ll come up with something. I always do.”
By the time we made it to the tarmac, the sun was low on the horizon casting long golden shadows across the private runway.
Alexander’s jet gleamed ahead of us, sleek and impossibly cool, like it knew it was out of everyone’s league.
Anna strode ahead like she owned the damn plane, her heels clicking purposefully against the pavement.
I lagged behind, Monty trotting beside me in his little travel vest, tail wagging like he didn’t have a care in the world. Lucky bastard.
“Hold up, Princess,” Matteo said behind me, drawing out the nickname just to see if he could get a rise out of me.
“Don’t call me that,” I muttered, not turning around.
“But it fits so well.” He grinned, catching up and walking backwards in front of me. “A little dramatic, high-maintenance, thinks she’s above everyone else…”
“Keep talking and I’ll tell Lucia you clogged the hotel sink with your protein powder.”
His mouth dropped open. “You swore you’d never speak of that.”
“Then don’t test me.”
Monty barked like he was proud of me.
The moment we boarded the plane, chaos and comfort merged into one.
Gianna squealed as she spotted me, her curls wild and a juice box already in her hand.
I barely got seated before she ran over and showed me her glittery unicorn stickers.
I obliged with the appropriate oohs and ahhs while Monty nestled beside me, already curled up and half-asleep.
Lucia was settled in with a warm blanket, while Anna kicked off her heels and curled into a window seat with her phone clutched tightly in one hand. I caught the two of them whispering, their heads bent together, brows furrowed.
Matteo slid into the seat across from me. He lifted a brow, glancing between Anna and Lucia, then at me. When I avoided eye contact, he took out his phone and typed something. A second later, my phone buzzed.
Matteo:
What’s going on over there? Secret girl meeting?
I sighed, thumb flying over the screen.
Nicola:
Anna’s got family drama.
No, I’m not telling you.
Matteo:
Damn. Okay.
You’re very bossy when you’re being protective.
It’s kinda hot.
I blinked and glanced up at him. He was grinning. The worst part? He knew I read the message.
Nicola:
Delete that.
Go flirt with someone else.
Matteo:
No thanks. I like you grumpy.
Makes it fun when I make you smile.
Making you blush is my new favorite pastime.
I rolled my eyes so hard my brain rattled. Monty nudged my hand like he was telling me to stop getting flustered and get back to his ear scratches. I obliged, silently praying Matteo would find someone else to torment.
I pulled out my book and tried to let the world slip away, my trusty queen of hearts playing card acting as a bookmark for all my books.
The words started to settle around me like a blanket, the stress dissolving bit by bit.
I fell into the pages easily, shoulders dropping as I escaped into a world where the only thing I had to worry about was whether the heroine would stab the prince or kiss him.
Monty snored beside me, and I leaned my cheek on his head.
Time floated by as I got lost in my pages and I tried to ignore the burning feeling as Matteo kept looking at me.
The plane hummed beneath us, everyone settling in for the flight.
Lucia had already dozed off with Gia curled against her side, and Anna had finally relaxed, one foot tapping lightly as she texted someone back.
It was quiet. Peaceful. And somehow, still laced with this magnetic pull that kept dragging my attention back to the boy across from me.
My phone buzzed one more time.
Matteo:
Admit it.
You like it when I say things that make you blush.
Or how you made those little noises when I kissed that spot behind your ear?
Nicola:
You know there’s open seats on the other side of the plane right?
Matteo:
Ouch.
This is flirting in your world, huh?
Nicola:
If it was flirting, you’d be dizzy by now.
Matteo:
So you are flirting?
I didn’t respond. Not with words, anyway. I glanced up and leveled him with a glare.
Matteo:
You’d miss me if I wasn’t on this flight.
Nicola:
I miss the sound of my own thoughts, actually.
Matteo:
And here I was thinking we were making progress.
Nicola:
We’re not. You’re hallucinating from too much cologne again.
Matteo:
Rude. It’s designer.
Alexander got it for me.
Nicola:
I hate it.
Across the aisle, he gasped and clutched his chest like I’d physically wounded him. I snorted and returned to my book, only for my phone to buzz again.
Matteo:
You say you hate me but you’ve been looking at me every 3.5 minutes.
Nicola:
Bold of you to assume I’m not just dreaming of you disappearing.
Matteo:
Dreaming about me already? Damn, Princess.
I shot him a look so sharp it could cut glass. He grinned wider. Of course he did.
Nicola:
You know what’s wild?
Airplanes have emergency exits.
Matteo:
You trying to throw me out mid-air?
Nicola:
Just saying. Hypothetically.
Matteo:
You’d miss me.
Nicola:
Nah, I’d be too busy toasting with the flight attendant.
Matteo:
Savage.
You always this mean, or is it just with me?
Nicola:
Just with you. Congrats.
Matteo:
I’m honored. I’d like to thank the academy.
I glanced up again and caught him watching me with that cocky little half-smile that made me want to roll my eyes and—unfortunately—also kind of smile back.
Nicola:
Leave me alone. I’m busy escaping to fantasy worlds where men don’t act like 12-year-olds.
Matteo:
Fantasy world?
Lemme guess—enemies to lovers?
Nicola:
What?
Matteo:
You love a guy who pisses you off and makes your heart race.
Nicola:
Shut up.
I bit my lip, because unfortunately, the man had a point. I did love a good enemies-to-lovers plot. Which made the irony of this whole thing unbearable.
Nicola:
I hope Monty farts in your direction for the rest of the flight.
Matteo:
He would never.
I take it as a sign of loyalty.
Nicola:
Lies.
Matteo:
Just say you’re jealous he likes me more now.
Nicola:
Literally never.
Matteo:
Literally always.
Monty shifted in his sleep and let out a soft snore, completely unaware that he was in the middle of a custody battle.
I sighed and closed my book just long enough to shoot off one final message.
Nicola:
If you keep texting me, I swear to God I will ask Anna to seat you in the cargo hold.
Matteo:
If you wanted to go somewhere just us, we can always sneak into the bathroom. Heard mile high club is pretty exclusive.
Nicola:
I will not hesitate to strangle you.
Matteo:
Kinky, I like it.
I glared across the row and locked my phone, but it buzzed again, making me sigh.
Matteo:
Can you even reach my neck?
At that, I leaned forward and kicked Matteo in the shin. Lightly. Mostly. He winced with an exaggerated “Ow” and then grinned, trying—and failing—not to laugh.
He deserved it.
I normally wore heels everywhere to offset my vertically-challenged situation, but today was a travel day, which meant sneakers and leggings.
I grabbed my phone, turned it face-down, and shoved it under my thigh like it personally offended me.Opening my book again, returning to the men I preferred: tall, dark, and fictional.
A few hours passed in silence, the soft hum of the plane lulling most of the cabin to sleep. Monty was still curled against my side, and my book was just getting good when I heard a sleepy shuffle and soft voice.
“Zietta…”
Gianna quietly interrupted me clutching her bunny with her curls, a wild halo of blonde chaos.
“Can you wake up Zio?” she murmured, her voice a sleepy mix of slur and pout. I’d become fluent in Gianna-speak by now. She meant business.
“I think we should let him sleep, honey,” I whispered, nodding to Matteo—currently drooling in the most undignified way across the aisle. “Wanna hang with me until he wakes up?”
“‘Oh-tay,” she replied, climbing onto the seat beside me. She curled into my side like a tiny, warm blanket, bunny still clutched tightly in her hand.
We sat quietly for a bit, her head resting on my arm. It was peaceful. Sweet.
Too sweet.
“Zietta?”
“Hmm?”
“Can we wake up Zio now?” I glanced down at her, then over at Matteo who was still snoring. Then back to her. I could see the gears turning, see the intrusive thought take form. It was the same one her uncle got before he said something deeply dumb or chaotic.
“Gia…” I warned.
Too late.
She launched the stuffed animal right to her Zio. It smacked Matteo square in the face.
He jolted awake with a confused grunt, looked down at the bunny in his lap, then up at me. I was already laughing so hard I could barely breathe.
“Did you need something, Nic?” he groaned, voice low and scratchy with sleep—and oh God, it sounded exactly like his morning voice.
Which unfortunately reminded me of that morning after the gala. Shirtless. Window light. That smirk.
Nope. Shook that image out of my brain immediately.
“Maybe don’t teach my sweet niece to throw things at people’s faces,” Matteo said, giving me a pointed look.
I started to protest, but before I could defend myself, Gianna crossed her arms, puffed up her cheeks, and said matter-of-factly, “I did it. I wanted you to wake up.”
Matteo’s expression softened instantly. The man was powerless against her.
He picked up the bunny, leaned forward with mock seriousness. “Alright, next time maybe don’t throw things, yeah? Just come over and tap my arm like this.” He used the bunny’s paw to tap her shoulder gently, and she giggled so hard she snorted.
“’Kay, Zio. I sorry I throwed bunny at you.”
“That’s alright, G.” He opened his arms, and she launched herself at him, giggling as he lifted her effortlessly into his lap and hugged her tight. He whispered something into her hair, soft and tender, something I didn’t catch—but then his gaze lifted to me, warm and amused.
“You’re rubbing off on her.”
I smirked. “Oh please, she’s far too sweet to pick up all my bad habits.”
“She just threw a stuffed animal at my face.”
I shrugged. “In her defense, it worked.”