His Queen,Their War

Chapter Five

The book lay between us on the low marble table, its glossy cover catching the late-afternoon light streaming through the tall windows. I had been flipping pages for the last ten minutes, pretending to weigh each choice carefully when, in reality, I’d already made up my mind.

I leaned back in the velvet chair, tapping my manicured nails against the page I’d marked. “Alright,” I said with a triumphant smile. “University of Kore University of Enna. The youngest of the four. Sleek, modern glass buildings in the hills. They call it the ‘fortress in the clouds’...remote, almost isolated. Some say it’s free from the corruption the older schools swim in. What more could a good girl want?.”

Across from me, he leaned forward slightly, resting one elbow on the arm of his chair. His voice was smooth but firm, laced with that effortless Italian accent that could make no sound like a compliment. “No.”

I blinked. “No? That’s it? No reasoning? No negotiation?”

His lips curved into something that was definitely not a smile. “It is not good enough for you, cara.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Not good enough for me, or not good enough for you to brag about at your fancy dinner parties?”

“Both,” he replied without hesitation, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough to suggest he was enjoying my irritation.

I let out an exaggerated sigh, flipping to another tab in the book. My eye quickly went to the first university that was on the page.

“University of Palermo,”the largest in Sicily… big, bustling, and unapologetically loud. It’s in the heart of the capital,palm-lined streets, chaotic traffic, and food markets spilling into alleyways. They say the student body is so big, you could lose yourself there… and that’s exactly what some people want.”

I flicked my eyes up at him, “since Mom and Dad want you to protect me,it will just take forty minutes to get there,you can check up on me whenever your overprotective nature kicks in.”

He studied me for a long moment. Finally, he gave a single, deliberate nod. “Better.”

“Oh, grazie mille for the royal seal of approval,” I muttered under my breath.

I pushed the book toward him, but instead of pulling it back, he picked up his coffee cup. I caught a whiff of the strong, bitter scent and, without thinking, leaned forward to pluck it right from his hand.

“Hey…” he started, but I cut him off by taking a slow, deliberate sip, locking my eyes on his over the rim.

The coffee was hot, strong, a little too bitter for my taste, but worth it just to see the way his gaze lingered, sharp and unreadable.

I set the cup back on the table, closer to him this time. “Thanks for sharing, fratellastro,” I teased.

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “You’re welcome, Alessia.”

It was only my name, but the way he said it made the air feel heavier.

I stood before he could say anything else, tucking my hair behind my ears as I turned toward the hallway. “I’m going to unpack before I end up picking all five universities just to annoy you.”

**********

My room was bathed in the soft, golden light of late afternoon when I closed the door behind me. The doors to the balcony stood open, letting in a faint breeze that carried the scent of the sea and citrus blossoms from somewhere beyond the gardens.

I kicked off my shoes and fell back onto the bed, letting my body sink into the mattress like it had been waiting all day to swallow me.

I should have been thinking about enrollment forms, packing lists, maybe even Italian language classes.

Instead, my mind went somewhere else entirely.

To him.

Not my stepbrother. Not Marco, the “future husband” my parents were still trying to sell me on like some outdated family heirloom.

No…my ex.

The one who could ruin me with a single look. The one whose memory had teeth, sharp and biting.

It had been months, but my body remembered him like he’d been here yesterday. My skin remembered his touch, my lips remembered his mouth, and my stupid, traitorous brain decided now was the perfect time to replay those memories in vivid, high-definition detail.

My hand drifted down almost without permission, fingertips skimming the curve of my hip, the flat of my stomach…

“Nope,” I said aloud, yanking it back like I’d touched a live wire. Not again! I can't masturbate because of him,it won't help me forget him,it will only add more fuel to the fire.

I sat up and pinched the inside of my arm hard enough to sting. “Stupida,” I hissed. “Brutta stupida.”

I had come here for a fresh start, not to… whatever that was about to turn into.

Pushing to my feet, I crossed the room to the balcony, hoping the evening air would be enough to clear my head. I stepped outside, bracing my arms on the cool iron railing and drawing in a deep breath.

The sky was streaked with pink and gold, the kind of sunset that made the sea below look like molten metal. Somewhere in the courtyard, the gentle trickle of the fountain mixed with the faint hum of cicadas.

It should have been peaceful.

But my eyes caught movement below, and my heart stopped.

Standing by the fountain, hands in his pockets, was a man I knew too well.

Dark hair. That easy, infuriating smile that could melt me and set me on fire in the same breath.

My ex.

For a split second, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. But no,the tilt of his head, the way his gaze swept the courtyard like he owned it… it was him. I blinked twice to be sure.

I gripped the railing so tightly my knuckles went white.

He looked up.

Our eyes locked, and the smile deepened, slow, deliberate, like he’d been expecting me.

Every cell in my body screamed what the hell is he doing here? But my voice was gone, stolen by the sight of him standing in the one place I thought I’d be safe from him.

If Italy was supposed to be my escape, it had just turned into a trap.