150
Matteo’s POV.
This gala was the kind of event I hated but had perfected enduring over the years. Suits too stiff, champagne too warm, and conversations too shallow. Mr Clifford, who was hosting it, is, of course, a big player, and making an appearance wasn’t optional.
I scanned the room, my gaze naturally landing on Gianna. She was near the bar, her sharp black dress cutting a figure that commanded attention without trying. Her head tilted slightly as she listened to some older man in a loud suit, her polite smile firmly in place. I could tell she wasn’t enjoying the conversation; her fingers tapped against her glass in that rhythmic way they did when she was irritated.
The man leaned closer, a little too familiar, and I felt my jaw tighten.
Before I could second-guess myself, I w
