144
Gianna’s POV.
I didn’t intend to be cold, just distant. The kind of distance that says, I’m over it without having to say it. That’s what I’d been aiming for with Matteo. Professional, cordial, efficient—nothing more.
But Matteo has always had this infuriating way of slipping past boundaries every damn time, even when I set them with the precision of an architect. And today, apparently, he’d decided to bulldoze right through them.
I eyed the cup of coffee that appeared in front of me. A cappuccino, just how I liked it—extra foam, light sprinkle of cocoa powder. I looked up, startled.
Matteo was already settling into the chair across from me, his expression annoyingly unreadable.
“Don’t look at me like I poisoned it,” he said, not even glancing my way as he pulled out his laptop.
