Later that afternoonâ
Matteo sat with his friends, barely listening to the conversation around him.
His attention kept drifting.
Back to her.
Annoying.
Unnecessary.
Unwanted.
âYouâre distracted,â Enzo said.
âIâm not.â
âYou are.â
Matteo leaned back slightly, exhaling.
âI just donât like people who talk too much.â
Enzo smirked. âSo⊠her.â
Matteo didnât answer.
But his silence said enough.
Because the truth wasâ
He wasnât just noticing Isabella Moretti anymore.
He was thinking about her.
And that was worse.
đ„ TEASER FOR CHAPTER 5:
Matteo starts noticing who Isabella talks to⊠and for the first time, something unfamiliar creeps in â jealousy.
By the next lecture, the campus had gone quiet again.
Not peaceful.
Just⊠watchful.
Monteverdi had a way of pretending things were over when they werenât. Conversations moved on, but attention didnât. It lingered. Shifted. Waited.
Isabella Moretti walked into class without hesitation.
Head high. Expression calm.
Untouched.
At least on the outside.
She didnât look for him.
She didnât need to.
She felt him.
Matteo De Luca was already there.
Sitting near the back this time, relaxed, one arm stretched across the empty seat beside him like he was reserving it without saying it out loud.
Her eyes flickered in that direction for half a second.
Then she looked away.
She chose a seat three rows ahead.
Far enough.
Intentional.
Controlled.
The lecture began.
Pens moved. Pages flipped. The professor talked.
Everything felt normal.
Untilâ
A chair scraped.
Behind her.
Isabellaâs hand paused slightly over her notebook.
Then continued.
Footsteps followed.
Slow.
Unhurried.
Confident.
She didnât turn.
Didnât react.
But when the chair beside her shiftedâ
She wasnât surprised.
Matteo sat down like it was nothing.
Like he hadnât crossed the room just to sit next to her.
âYou moved,â he said quietly.
Isabella kept writing.
âSo did you.â
A pause.
Then a faint breath left him. Not quite a laugh.
âYou think distance helps?â
âI think silence does.â
That almost amused him.
Almost.
Matteo leaned back slightly, but not fully. Not enough to give her space.
âYou walked away yesterday,â he said.
âYou noticed?â
âI donât like unfinished things.â
Isabella finally turned her head slightly.
âThere was nothing to finish.â
âThere is now.â
She looked at him.
Really looked this time.
Steady.
Unimpressed.
Then turned back to her notebook.
âNo.â
That shouldâve ended it.
It didnât.
Matteo leaned just a little closer.
Enough for his presence to be felt without crossing the line.
âThat wonât last,â he said.
Her pen slowed.
âConfidence isnât certainty.â
âAnd silence isnât indifference.â
That made her pause.
Brief.
Subtle.
But real.
She turned her head again, this time fully.
Their faces closer now.
Not enough to draw attention.
Enough to matter.
âYouâre assuming things,â she said.
âIâm observing.â
A beat passed between them.
Thenâ
âMr. De Luca.â
The professorâs voice cut through the moment.
Matteo didnât move immediately.
âYes?â
âWould you like to participate, or continue distracting others?â
A few quiet laughs.
Matteo leaned back slightly, finally breaking the tension.
âIâm listening.â
âThen act like it.â
The lecture resumed.
But the shift remained.
Because nowâ
This wasnât just rivalry.
It was awareness.
And neither of them could ignore it.
When class ended, Isabella stood immediately.
No hesitation.
No lingering.
She packed her things quickly.
Ready to leave beforeâ
âLeaving again?â
She stopped.
Just for a second.
Then turned.
Matteo was already standing.
Closer than expected.
Too close.
âI donât stay where Iâm not interested,â she said.
That shouldâve been enough.
But Matteo stepped slightly closer.
Now there was no space to pretend.
âYouâre interested,â he said.
Isabella didnât react.
âYouâre persistent.â
âThatâs not a denial.â
âItâs not an answer.â
A pause.
Students moved around them, voices filling the room again.
But the space between them stayed still.
Focused.
Matteo studied her like he was trying to figure something out.
Something that didnât make sense.
âYou donât react the way people should,â he said.
âAnd you expect them to?â
âYes.â
âThen thatâs your mistake.â
Another pause.
Thenâ
He smiled slightly.
Not mocking.
Not sharp.
Different.
âYouâre going to be a problem,â he said.
Isabella raised a brow.
âNo,â she replied calmly. âI already am.â
That held.
For a second longer than necessary.
Then she stepped back.
Creating space again.
Control.
âIâm not here for you,â she added.
Matteo didnât move.
âI didnât say you were.â
âGood.â
She turned and walked away.
This timeâ
He didnât stop her.
Didnât follow.
But his eyes stayed on her.
Tracking.
Thinking.
And that was new.
Because Matteo De Luca didnât think twice about people.
But nowâ
He was.