Rivals of fate

countinued

“Oh, I’m not threatening. I will do it.”

I sighed, looking down at the dress again. “…If I hate it, I’m blaming you.”

“You won’t hate it.”

“Famous last words.”

Ten minutes later, I stepped out, adjusting the hem for the hundredth time.

“This is too short,” I muttered.

Lennox turned—and her eyes lit up. “Oh. My. God.”

“Don’t start.”

“You look insane.”

“I look exposed.”

“You look hot.”

“I look like I made bad decisions.”

She grabbed my arm, grinning. “Perfect. Let’s go make more.”

I groaned as she dragged me out. This is definitely going to be a long night.

The moment we stepped into the club, the music hit like a wave—loud, pulsing, alive. Lights flashed across the crowd, bodies moving like they didn’t have a single worry in the world.

Lennox, of course, was already thriving.

“This—this is what I’m talking about!” she shouted, throwing her hands up dramatically.

“What I’m talking about is ear damage,” I yelled back, trying not to laugh.

She grabbed my wrist. “Come on!”

“Wait—at least let me—”

Too late.

Next thing I knew, I was pulled straight into the middle of the dance floor.

“Lennox!”

“No thinking. Just dance!”

I rolled my eyes but let myself move—just a little at first. The music was too loud, the energy too infectious to completely resist.

“See? Not dying!” she grinned.

“Debatable,” I shot back, but I was already loosening up.

A few songs later, I was actually laughing—laughing—as Lennox attempted some ridiculous dance move that made absolutely no sense.

“What even was that?” I asked, breathless.

“It’s called talent.”

“It’s called embarrassment.”

She gasped. “Rude.”

“Accurate,” I smirked.

After a while, we stumbled toward the bar, both slightly out of breath.

“I need a drink,” I said, sliding onto the stool.

“Finally, something sensible,” Lennox nodded.

I ordered quickly, tapping my fingers against the counter while waiting. The cool surface felt grounding compared to the chaos behind me.

“Admit it,” Lennox leaned closer,“you’re having fun.”

I took my drink, pausing for a second before answering. “…Maybe a little.”

She grinned like she’d just won something. “Knew it.”

I took a sip, letting the music fade into the background for just a moment. For once, my mind wasn’t stuck on work… or the meeting… or him.

Just noise. Lights. Freedom.

“Okay,” Lennox suddenly said, standing up again. “Next mission.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”

“Because you are.”

“Lennox—what are you doing?”

She grabbed my hand again, that same mischievous grin on her face.

“We’re not leaving this place until you do something fun.”

“I am having fun.”

“No. I mean actually fun.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It is.”

I sighed as she dragged me back into the crowd. Yep… definitely a long night.

Chapter 6

Elena

Lennox dragged me deeper into the crowd, the music louder, the lights dimmer, everything a blur of movement and energy.

“This is your moment,” she yelled.

“My moment for what?” I asked, already suspicious.

She leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “To stop overthinking and live a little.”

Before I could respond, she disappeared into the crowd.

“Lennox—!”

Gone.

I stood there for a second, shaking my head. Unbelievable.

“Rough night?” a voice came from beside me.

I turned slightly. A guy—tall, confident, a casual smirk like he’d done this a hundred times.

“Something like that,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled. “You don’t look like someone who belongs in her head this much.”

“And you don’t look like someone who gives deep observations in a club,” I shot back.

“Fair enough,” he grinned. “Dance?”

I hesitated for a second… then shrugged. Why not?

“Fine.”

The music shifted, slower but heavier, and we moved with it. Not too close at first… then gradually closer as the beat pulled us in.

His hand brushed my waist—hesitant, like he was giving me time to pull away. I didn’t.

It’s just fun. Nothing serious.

“Better than overthinking?” he asked near my ear.

“…Maybe,” I admitted.

The space between us disappeared. The noise of the club faded into the background, replaced by the rhythm, the moment, the impulse.

And then—

I leaned in.

It wasn’t planned. Just a split-second decision.

The space between us disappeared. The noise of the club faded into the background, replaced by the rhythm, the moment, the impulse.

And then—

I leaned in.

It wasn’t planned. Just a split-second decision.

But instead of closing the distance completely, I stopped just inches away, my breath mixing with his for a second too long.

He didn’t move either.

We just… stayed there.

Like two idiots stuck in a moment neither of us wanted to break.

I blinked first, pulling back slightly. “…Okay, that was dramatic.”

He let out a low laugh. “You always get this close just to change your mind?”

“Excuse me?” I scoffed. “I was thinking.”

“In a club?” he raised an eyebrow. “That’s rare.”

“Wow. Rude.”

“Accurate,” he smirked.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at my lips.

The music shifted again, a faster beat this time, and before I could step away, he spun me lightly.

“Hey—!”

“You said you wanted fun,” he said, completely unapologetic.

“I said maybe fun,” I corrected, trying not to laugh as I stumbled slightly before catching my balance.

“Same thing.”

“It is not the same thing.”

“Close enough.”

I shook my head, but I didn’t pull away.

We kept dancing, more relaxed now, less tension, more rhythm. At one point, I tried copying one of Lennox’s ridiculous moves—and instantly regretted it.

“Oh my—what was that?” he laughed.

“Don’t start,” I warned, pointing at him. “That’s called confidence.”

“That’s called a public hazard.”

I gasped. “Wow. I take it back. You’re not funny.”

“And yet you’re still here.”

“…Temporary lapse in judgment.”

“Sure.”

I huffed, crossing my arms dramatically for half a second—before the music pulled me back again.

After a while, we both slowed down, slightly out of breath.

“See?” he said, leaning closer—but not too close this time. “Not overthinking anymore.”

I paused, then shrugged. “…Don’t get used to it.”

He smirked. “Too late.”

I rolled my eyes, but this time, I didn’t move away at all.

I rolled my eyes, but this time, I didn’t move away at all.

“And what’s your name?” he asked casually, like we hadn’t just spent the last several minutes arguing and dancing like idiots.

I paused. “…Do I need to tell you?”

He smirked. “No. But I feel like I earned it.”

“Earned it?” I raised an eyebrow. “For what? Mocking my dancing?”

“That was constructive criticism.”

“That was bullying.”

“Same thing.”

I let out a small laugh despite myself. “…Maybe later.”

“Maybe?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Too late,” he said again, clearly enjoying this way too much.

Before I could respond—

“OH. MY. GOD.”

I froze.

Slowly turned.

Lennox.

Standing there.

Watching.

With the biggest grin I had ever seen on her face.

“No,” I said immediately. “No, don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m absolutely starting,” she walked over, eyes scanning between me and him like she was watching her favorite show. “Who is this?”

“No one,” I replied quickly.

“I’m offended,” he said.

“Good.”

Lennox gasped dramatically. “You didn’t even tell me you were going to flirt tonight!”

“I’m not flirting.”

“You’re literally glowing.”

“I am literally not.”

She turned to him. “Hi, I’m Lennox. Best friend. Also the reason she’s here.”

“That explains a lot,” he nodded.

“Hey—!” I protested.

Lennox ignored me. “Is she behaving?”

“Debatable.”

“Excuse me??”

They both laughed. Traitors.

“Okay, that’s enough,” I grabbed Lennox’s arm. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“That’s my job,” she whispered loudly.

I sighed. “I regret coming.”

“No, you don’t,” she shot back instantly.

“…Okay, maybe not completely.”

“Exactly.”

She leaned in closer to me, whispering, “He’s cute.”

“I have eyes.”

“And you’re not running away.”

“I’m standing still.”

“Growth,” she nodded proudly.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too.”

She suddenly clapped her hands. “Okay! I’m going to get drinks. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“You’re the one who leaves me alone!”

“Exactly!” she winked—and disappeared again into the crowd.

I stared after her. “…Unbelievable.”

“Your friend is… intense,” he said.

“That’s one word for it.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Yes.”

He laughed.

There was a small pause again—but this time it felt different. Easier. Warmer.

“So,” he tilted his head slightly, “still ‘maybe later’?”

I looked at him for a second, then smirked. “…Still maybe.”

“Dangerous.”

“For you,” I shot back.

“Worth it.”

I shook my head, but I was smiling again.

The music picked up, louder, faster, and without another word, he held out his hand—not pulling me, just offering.

I looked at it for a second.

Then took it.

I looked at his hand for a second.

Then took it.

“Careful,” he said as he pulled me slightly closer, “you’re starting to trust me.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I shot back. “This is temporary.”

“Temporary things can still be interesting.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You talk a lot.”

“And yet you’re still here.”

“…Again, temporary lapse in judgment.”

He laughed, and this time it felt easier—less guarded.

The music picked up again, faster, louder, and we moved with it. Not as hesitant now. Not as careful.

At one point, he spun me again—this time smoother—and I didn’t stumble.

“See? Improvement,” he said.

“Don’t push it,” I warned, but I was smiling.

“Too late.”

I shook my head, but before I could respond—

A loud crash echoed somewhere near the bar.

The music didn’t stop, but a few people turned, murmuring.

“What was that?” I frowned.

“Probably someone who can’t handle their drink,” he shrugged.

But something about it felt… off.

For a split second, I glanced toward the bar area, trying to see through the crowd—but it was too packed. Just flashes of movement, people shifting, nothing clear.

“Hey,” he said, bringing my attention back. “Stay here.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I replied, though my eyes flicked back again for a second.

He noticed. “You’re curious.”

“I’m cautious.”

“Same thing.”

“Not even close.”

He stepped slightly closer, lowering his voice just enough so I could hear him over the music. “Relax. You’re safe.”

I paused.

Something about the way he said it—calm, steady—made me stop overthinking for once.

“…Fine,” I said, though not fully convinced.

“Good.”

The music shifted again, slower this time, almost like the night was pulling everything into a different rhythm.

We moved again—but this time, it felt different.

Quieter.

Closer.

Not rushed. Not chaotic.

Just… there.

His hand rested more naturally at my waist now, and I didn’t even think about it anymore.

“You’re not running away,” he pointed out softly.

I huffed. “…I’m just tired.”

“Liar.”

“Shut up.”

He smiled slightly, but didn’t argue.

For a moment, everything settled—the noise, the tension, even my thoughts.

Until—

Someone bumped hard into my shoulder from behind.

“Watch it—” I started, turning slightly.

But the person was already gone, disappearing into the crowd like nothing happened.

“Okay… that’s getting annoying,” I muttered.

“Crowded night,” he said, though his tone had shifted—more alert now.

I noticed.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, but his eyes briefly scanned the crowd.

That same uneasy feeling crept back.

Not strong. Just… there.

I crossed my arms slightly. “Why does it suddenly feel like something weird is going to happen?”

He looked at me for a second, then smirked lightly. “Because you watch too many dramatic movies.”

“…Rude.”

“Accurate.”

I rolled my eyes again—but this time, I stayed a little closer without even realizing it.

The music pulsed around us, but that uneasy feeling hadn’t left. It lingered… quiet, creeping.

Then—

My phone buzzed in my hand.

I frowned. “That’s weird…”

“Who is it?” he asked, his tone instantly more alert.

“I don’t know,” I muttered, looking at the unknown number.

Another message came through.

I opened it.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

My stomach dropped.

“What?” he noticed immediately.

I hesitated for a second… then showed him the screen.

His expression changed. Not dramatic—but sharp. Focused.

“Do you know who sent this?” he asked.

“No,” I said quietly, my earlier confidence slipping just a little. “I literally just got here…”

Another message.

“Leave. Now.”

My grip on the phone tightened. “…Okay, that’s not funny.”

He stepped closer—this time not playful, not teasing. Protective.

“Hey,” his voice lowered, calm but firm. “Look at me.”

I did.

“You’re not alone here,” he said.

I let out a small breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“But we’re not ignoring this either,” he added, his jaw tightening slightly.

“You think it’s serious?”

“I think,” he glanced around the crowd briefly, eyes scanning, “someone’s watching you.”

That sent a chill down my spine.

“Great,” I muttered. “Exactly how I wanted my night to go.”

“Stay close,” he said, his hand moving more securely around my waist—not controlling, but protective. “If someone thinks they can scare you like this, they’re going to be disappointed.”

I looked up at him. “…You always this dramatic?”

“Only when it matters.”

I huffed softly, trying to lighten it. “You don’t even know me.”

He met my eyes, expression steady. “Doesn’t matter.”

For a second, I didn’t know what to say to that.

Another vibration in my hand.

I hesitated… then opened it.

“Last warning.”

My heart skipped.

“Okay…” I swallowed. “That’s definitely not normal.”

His expression hardened now.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It’s not.”

He looked around again, slower this time, more calculated.

“Whoever this is,” he added, voice low, controlled, “they picked the wrong person to mess with.”

I raised an eyebrow despite the tension. “Oh really?”

He glanced back at me, a faint edge in his smirk now.

“Yeah,” he said. “Because now I’m involved.”

Chapter 7

Elena

I raised an eyebrow despite the tension. “Oh really?”

He glanced back at me, a faint edge in his smirk now.

“Yeah,” he said. “Because now I’m involved.”

I huffed softly, about to reply—

But then… nothing.

No more messages.

No movement in the crowd. No suspicious faces. No sign that anything was wrong.

Just music. Lights. People laughing like nothing had happened.

I looked down at my phone again. The screen stayed still. Silent.

“…That’s it?” I frowned.

He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes were still scanning the crowd, slower now, more calculated.

Another minute passed.

Nothing.

The tension… just faded. Like it was never there.

“Okay… that’s creepy,” I muttered.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, though his posture relaxed slightly. “Too quiet.”

I locked my phone, slipping it into my bag. “Or maybe someone just wanted to mess with me.”

“Maybe,” he said—but he didn’t sound convinced.

I tilted my head, studying him. “You’re still thinking about it.”

“And you’re pretending not to.”

“…Fair.”

For a second, neither of us spoke.

Then the music suddenly shifted—louder, faster, pulling the energy of the room back up like nothing had happened.

Lennox appeared out of nowhere again, two drinks in hand.

“WHY DO YOU BOTH LOOK LIKE YOU SAW A GHOST?” she shouted.

I blinked. “…We didn’t.”

“Liar,” she narrowed her eyes.

“Relax,” I grabbed the drink from her hand. “Everything’s fine.”

She looked between us suspiciously. “Hmm.”

“Don’t start,” I warned.

“Too late,” she grinned—but then shrugged. “Fine. If you’re alive, we dance.”

Before I could argue, she grabbed my hand again.

“Wait—Lennox—!”

Too late.

I was dragged back into the chaos, the music swallowing everything else.

I glanced back once.

He was still there. Watching.

Not tense anymore.

But not fully relaxed either.

Like he hadn’t forgotten.

Like something didn’t sit right.

And for a second…

Neither did I.

But then Lennox spun me again, laughing, and the moment slipped away.

The night went on.

Normal. Loud. Careless.

As if nothing had happened.

Lennox spun me again, laughing like she had no care in the world, while I tried not to trip over my own feet.

“Okay—okay, I’m done,” I said, breathless, grabbing her arm to stop her.

“No, you’re not,” she grinned.

“I am. I need air… or water… or a new life.”

“Drama queen,” she muttered, but let me go anyway.

I made my way back toward the side of the dance floor, brushing my hair back, still catching my breath.

“Survived?”

I turned.

He was still there.

“Barely,” I replied.

He smirked slightly. “You didn’t run.”

“I considered it.”

“But you didn’t.”

“…Temporary courage.”

“That still counts.”

There was a small pause, quieter than before despite the noise around us.

Then he extended his hand—not pulling, just offering.

“Matteo Ricci,” he said simply.

I looked at his hand for a second… then took it.

“Elena.”

His grip was firm, warm—but brief.

“Just Elena?” he raised an eyebrow slightly.

“For now,” I replied.

A faint smirk touched his lips. “Mysterious.”

“Careful,” I shot back. “You might start overthinking.”

“Occupational hazard,” he said lightly.

“Lawyer?”

“Italian lawyer,” he corrected.

“Of course you are,” I muttered.

He laughed softly, and for a moment, everything felt… easy again.

He didn’t let go of my hand immediately. Not tight—just enough to notice.

“So, Elena,” Matteo said, tilting his head slightly, “do you always look like you regret your decisions halfway through the night?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Only when I listen to Lennox.”

“Ah,” he nodded seriously. “So this is her fault.”

“Entirely.”

“I should thank her then.”

“Don’t,” I said quickly. “It’ll boost her ego.”

“Too late for that,” he smirked.

I huffed, pulling my hand back finally. “You’re very confident for someone I just met.”

“I’m a lawyer. Confidence is part of the job.”

“Or overconfidence.”

“Same thing,” he shrugged.

I tried not to smile. Failed.

He noticed. Of course he did.

“There it is,” he said.

“What?”

“That smile you’re trying to hide.”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“You literally just did.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

I crossed my arms. “You argue too much.”

“And yet you keep responding.”

“…I hate that you’re right.”

“I get that a lot.”

“Wow. Ego much?”

“Confidence,” he corrected again.

I shook my head, but I was laughing now—actually laughing.

For a moment, everything felt lighter. No tension, no weird messages, no overthinking. Just… this.

“Dance again?” he asked, but this time his tone was softer. Not teasing.

I looked at him for a second.

“…You don’t give up, do you?”

“Not easily.”

“That’s concerning.”

“That’s charming.”

“Debatable.”

He held out his hand again, waiting—patient, not pushy.

I stared at it for a second…

Then sighed. “…Fine. But if I fall, I’m blaming you.”

“I’ll take full responsibility.”

“Legally?”

“Professionally.”

I rolled my eyes, placing my hand in his again. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he said, pulling me gently back toward the music, “you’re still here.”

“…Temporary lapse in judgment,” I repeated.

“Sure,” he smiled.

This time, the dance felt different.

Less awkward.

More natural.

Like I wasn’t thinking about every step… just moving.

At one point, I stepped on his foot.

“Oh my god—sorry!”

He winced dramatically. “That was intentional.”

“It was not!”

“I’m filing a case.”

“For what?”

“Assault.”

I stared at him. “…You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re dangerous,” he said, clearly enjoying this.

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re not winning that case.”

“Oh, I always win.”

“Not this time.”

“We’ll see.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re annoying.”

“You’re smiling again.”

“…Shut up.”

He chuckled, and for a moment, everything felt easy again.

Too easy.

The music slowed slightly, and we moved with it, closer than before—but still light, still playful.

“You know,” I said, tilting my head, “for someone who talks this much, you’ve told me almost nothing about yourself.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I told you I’m an Italian lawyer. That’s already impressive.”

“Bare minimum,” I replied.

“Harsh.”

“Accurate.”

He smirked, but this time… he didn’t answer immediately.

I noticed.

That tiny pause.

That shift.

“So?” I pushed lightly. “Big shot lawyer? Courtroom drama? Secret double life?”

“Maybe,” he said casually.

I blinked. “…That wasn’t a joke, was it?”

“It could be.”

“That’s not comforting.”

He laughed softly, but his gaze flicked past me for a split second—sharp, quick—before returning like nothing happened.

I caught it.

“What was that?” I asked.

“What?”

“That,” I gestured slightly. “You just checked something.”

“Habit,” he shrugged. “I like to be aware of my surroundings.”

“In a club?”

“Especially in a club.”

I stared at him for a second. “…You’re weird.”

“And yet,” he said smoothly, “you’re still dancing with me.”

I opened my mouth to argue—

Then stopped.

“…That’s not the point.”

“It kind of is.”

I rolled my eyes, but something felt… off. Not bad. Just… different.

“Let me guess,” I said, narrowing my eyes slightly. “You’re not just a normal lawyer, are you?”

He tilted his head, amused. “What’s a normal lawyer?”

“One that doesn’t scan the room like he’s expecting something to happen.”

“Maybe I just like being prepared.”

“For what?”

“For anything.”

That answer… didn’t feel like a joke.

Before I could push further, Lennox suddenly reappeared again—of course.

“WHY ARE YOU TWO TALKING LIKE YOU’RE IN A MOVIE?” she shouted.

I blinked. “…We’re not.”

“You literally look suspicious.”

“He looks suspicious,” I pointed at Matteo instantly.

He placed a hand on his chest. “I’m offended.”

“You should be.”

Lennox squinted at him. “Yeah… I don’t trust you.”

“Good,” he smiled slightly.

We both paused.

“…That was not the right response,” I said slowly.

He just shrugged. “Honest one.”

Lennox leaned toward me. “See? I told you—trouble.”

“I can hear you,” he said calmly.

“Good,” she replied.

I sighed, shaking my head. “…This night is getting weird.”

“Or interesting,” Matteo corrected softly.

I glanced at him again.

That same calm expression. That same slight smirk.

But now…

It felt like there was something he wasn’t saying.

And for some reason—

That made me want to know more.

I glanced at him again.

That same calm expression. That same slight smirk.

But now… it didn’t feel entirely casual anymore.

It felt controlled.

“You’re thinking again,” Matteo said.

“Because you’re suspicious,” I replied instantly.

“Suspicious?” he repeated, amused.

“Yes. Very.”

“That hurts.”

“Good.”

He chuckled, but his eyes flicked past me again—quick, sharp.

There it was.

Again.

I turned slightly this time, trying to follow his gaze—but all I saw was the crowd. People dancing. Nothing unusual.

When I looked back at him, he was already watching me.

“What?” he asked.

“You keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“That,” I pointed again. “Looking around like someone’s about to attack you.”

He smirked faintly. “You think I’m that important?”

“I think you’re hiding something.”

“Everyone hides something.”

“…That sounded way too serious for a club conversation.”

“Maybe you’re asking the wrong questions.”

I crossed my arms. “Or maybe you’re avoiding the right ones.”

For a second—just a second—his smile faded.

Not completely.

Just enough.

Then it was back.

“Careful, Elena,” he said lightly. “You’re starting to sound like an interrogator.”

“Maybe I should’ve been a lawyer.”

“I wouldn’t survive,” he replied.

“Oh? Why?”

“Because you’d win.”

I rolled my eyes, but before I could reply—

A man brushed past us too roughly, bumping into Matteo’s shoulder.

“Watch it,” I snapped.

But Matteo didn’t react the way I expected.

He didn’t argue.

Didn’t get annoyed.

He just… turned his head slightly.

Looked at the man.

And in that one second—

Everything about him changed.

The playful expression? Gone.

Replaced by something colder. Sharper.

The man froze.

Actually froze.

Like he suddenly realized something he shouldn’t have.

“Sorry,” the man muttered quickly, backing off almost immediately before disappearing into the crowd.

I blinked. “…Okay?”

Matteo turned back to me like nothing happened. “Crowded place.”

I stared at him.

“That was not normal.”

“What wasn’t?”

“That.”

“You’re overthinking.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

I narrowed my eyes. “…You didn’t even say anything.”

“Didn’t need to.”

“That’s exactly my point.”

He just smiled again—but this time, it didn’t feel entirely harmless.

“Relax,” he said softly. “You’re safe.”

That word again.

Safe.

I crossed my arms slightly. “…From what?”

He didn’t answer.

Just looked at me for a second—longer than before.

Then, casually—too casually—

“Dance?”

I stared at him.

“You’re seriously changing the topic right now?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet,” he said, holding out his hand again, “you’re still here.”

I looked at his hand.

Then at him.

Then sighed. “…This is a bad idea.”

"Probably"