Chapter 15
Present
Hawaii
THE LONELINESS WAS DEAFENING.
The suite was silent, the kind of silence that only came in the middle of the night – when even the ocean seemed to whisper instead of roar. Everyone was asleep by now. Bags were packed, flights scheduled, plans already set for our return to New York in the afternoon.
But I couldn’t sleep.
I laid on my back in the king-sized bed, the sheets soft and cool against my skin, staring at the pale glow of the moonlight stretched across the ceiling.
The curtains were drawn back, the balcony doors left cracked open, letting in the scent of the ocean – salt and hibiscus, warm night air curling around me like a ghost.
The waves rolled in softly, over and over again, their rhythm almost hypnotic.
Kali had gone earlier to Zane’s room, laughing about something I didn’t catch. Maria and Natalia were, obviously, with their men. Carmen and Kim were next door, probably dead asleep after our long day. For the first time this entire trip, I was completely alone.
And I hated it.
A hollow ache pressed behind my ribs, sudden and inexplicable. There was no reason for it – nothing bad had happened. In fact, tonight had been… perfect. Better than perfect. Warm breezes, laughter, dancing, him.
But as the hours crept on and the stillness settled, a melancholy heaviness began to bloom inside me. My throat tightened for no reason at all, and I blinked rapidly, confused by the sudden burn behind my eyes.
Why did I feel like crying?
I rolled onto my side, facing the balcony.
The moonlight spilled through the open doors, bathing the bed in soft silver light.
My white sheets shimmered faintly under it, my skin glowing in that way it only does when kissed by the moon.
I inhaled deeply. The air was warm, fragrant, alive with the sea.
And yet, inside me, everything felt still.
The thought of leaving tomorrow sat uneasily in my stomach. Normally, I’d be itching to get back to New York – back to the chaos, the meetings, the sharp edges of my life. That was my territory. My rhythm.
But tonight… it felt different.
The idea of going back didn’t thrill me. It made my chest tighten.
I couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was the way Hawaii had wrapped its arms around me this past week – the easy days by the pool, the nights filled with music and stars. Maybe it was being surrounded by people I cared about, without the constant hum of business in the background.
Or maybe… maybe it was Matteo.
The way his hand felt in mine as we walked through town. The way he looked at me at my door earlier, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
I pushed the thought away, frustrated at myself. This wasn’t me. I didn’t get sentimental. I didn’t lie awake feeling like some lovesick idiot because of a man – especially not him.
But no matter how many times I turned over, adjusted the sheets, stared at the ceiling, the heaviness in my chest remained.
For the first time, I wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow. And that scared me more than I wanted to admit.
The sheets rustled as I sat up, my body restless, like my skin didn’t fit quite right. There was no point in pretending anymore – I wasn’t going to sleep.
With a soft sigh, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The marble floor was cool under my bare feet, grounding. A soft breeze drifted in through the open balcony doors, carrying the scent of salt and night-blooming flowers.
I slipped outside.
The resort was quiet now, a sleeping paradise. My white nightgown – thin, silky, and loose – fluttered around my thighs as I stepped onto the balcony. Below me, the sand stretched out like a sheet of silver, glowing under the light of a full moon.
Without overthinking, I padded down the small steps that led straight onto the beach.
The night wrapped around me like a shawl. Soft. Quiet. Almost sacred.
The sand was warm from the day, shifting softly under each step. My dress moved with the wind, flowing around me like water as I walked, the hem brushing against my calves. My hair whipped around my face, strands catching the breeze as if the wind itself wanted to play.
It wasn’t completely dark – Hawaii never was. The moon was high and bright, painting the world in shades of ivory and blue. The ocean stretched out endlessly before me, its surface shimmering like a thousand broken mirrors scattered beneath the stars.
I walked for a while, aimlessly, letting the waves be my soundtrack. Their rhythm was soothing – crash, retreat, crash again.
Finally, I stopped a few feet from the water’s edge.
The sand was damp and cool here, sinking a little beneath my toes. I crossed my arms lightly over my chest – not out of cold, but from the sheer vastness of it all.
The wind picked up, teasing the fabric of my nightgown, sending it billowing around me like a soft, white cloud. I tilted my head back and looked out at the horizon, where the dark ocean kissed the even darker sky.
The view was breathtaking. Endless. Alive.
The waves rolled in, stopping just short of my feet, leaving foamy fingerprints on the sand before retreating again. The moonlight sparkled on the water, turning it to liquid silver. For a moment, everything felt suspended – like the world had slowed down just for me.
I breathed it in deeply. The salt. The night. The quiet.
Here, away from everyone, away from the noise of my thoughts, I could finally admit what I’d been feeling all night.
Something inside me was shifting. And as much as I tried to ignore it, standing there beneath the moonlight, alone with the vastness of the ocean – it was impossible to deny.
For a while, I simply stood there, letting the breeze tangle in my hair and the moonlight soak into my skin. The melancholy still pressed softly against my ribs, but it wasn’t as sharp anymore – more like a slow ache, a quiet sadness I didn’t fully understand.
I exhaled and turned my head slightly toward the stretch of beach…
And my heart stopped.
Far down the sand, framed by the moonlit shoreline, Matteo was walking toward me.
He looked like he’d stepped straight out of some fever dream I’d never admit to having.
His white linen shirt fluttered lightly in the wind, open just enough to hint at the warm bronze of his skin beneath.
His matching trousers hung low on his hips, loose, the fabric swaying with each slow, unhurried step.
He was barefoot, shoes dangling carelessly from one hand, like he had all the time in the world.
The moonlight touched him like it favored him, gliding over the strong lines of his shoulders, catching the faint shimmer of the gold chain at his throat.
His skin glowed faintly against the dark horizon, and his hair – more golden in the day, now a deep burnished bronze – was pushed back messily by the wind.
Occasionally, the tide kissed his ankles, soft waves splashing around his feet as if even the ocean wanted to greet him.
And his eyes – God. Even from here, I could see the way they caught the light, like fragments of something untamed and bright.
For a heartbeat, he didn’t look real.
He looked like a… White knight.
The kind that appeared in stories whispered beneath candlelight. A noble warrior striding down the shore, moonlight at his back, every inch of him exuding strength and quiet certainty.
And yet, the truth couldn’t have been more opposite. Matteo was no knight in shining armor. He belonged to shadows and power, to an underworld that thrived on control and danger. He was a man people feared, a man whose name alone could still a room.
But standing there, barefoot on the sand with the moon painting him in silver – he looked like he’d come to fight back the darkness for me.
I couldn’t move.
All I could do was stand there, the hem of my dress fluttering against my legs, my hair caught in the night breeze, watching as Matteo slowly closed the distance between us.
Each step he took seemed to echo against the quiet beach, steady and sure, like he’d been walking toward me all along.
The sound of the waves softened as Matteo finally reached me, his steps slowing until he stood just a few feet away. The night air carried the faint scent of salt and hibiscus between us. His voice broke the quiet, low and rough from the sea breeze.
“Princesa… I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“What are you doing out here?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” He frowned then, really looking at me – his golden-brown eyes scanning my face like he was trying to read a language he hadn’t learned yet. His brows pulled together, soft but concerned. “What’s wrong?”
Something in his tone – gentle but grounding – unraveled me. I took a slow breath, the kind that shivered its way into my chest.
“I… Don’t know.”
The words slipped out before I could build my usual walls. Honest. Bare.
Matteo tilted his head, that familiar, maddeningly charming frown deepening. “I don’t think that’s entirely true, Donna.” He stepped closer, the sand crunching softly beneath his feet. “What’s upsetting you?”
The distance between us narrowed, and suddenly I was acutely aware of everything – his warmth against the cool breeze, the sound of his shirt rustling faintly in the wind, the way the moonlight curved along his jaw.
“I… I…” The words tangled in my throat.
Matteo’s voice softened even more, a firm hand coming to settle on my upper arm. “It’s alright. Take your time.”
My gaze dropped to the sand between us. My breath came out shaky. “I don’t want to go back to New York.”
I whispered it like it was a confession, like saying it too loudly would make it real.
Something flickered across Matteo’s face then – elusive, unreadable. It wasn’t surprise, exactly. More like recognition.
“When’s the last time you went on vacation?” he asked gently. “Took time off?”
I bit the inside of my cheek and glanced away, suddenly feeling small beneath the vast night sky. The honest answer was too long ago to remember.