His Queen,Their War

Chapter Six

I stood frozen on the balcony, my hands gripping the railing until my knuckles whitened. My chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, my eyes locked on the figure below.

It was him.

My step-uncle. My ex.

The last man I thought I’d ever see again, the last man I’d sworn to erase from my memories. But there he was, standing in the courtyard of Matteo’s villa as though he belonged here.

His gaze lifted, sharp and deliberate, finding me through the shadows of the balcony. For a heartbeat, the world held its breath. And then… he smirked.

That arrogant, knowing, dangerous smirk that once made my knees weak and now made my stomach twist.

I stumbled back, my pulse crashing in my ears. My hands fumbled for the balcony doors, slamming them shut with trembling fingers. The glass rattled, but I didn’t care. I leaned against the door, pressing my back to the cold surface, as though the barrier could keep his presence out.

“What the hell is he doing here?” I whispered, my voice a strangled hiss.

I came to Italy for peace. For distance. For school, for my future, for anything but him. And yet, like some cruel joke, he was here, dragging storms into the sanctuary I thought I’d found.

I pressed my palms against my chest, trying to slow my racing heart. My thoughts were a mess, a blur of questions with no answers. Did Matteo know he was here? Did they plan this? Or had he come for me, the same way shadows always chase the light?

Biting my lip, I crept back toward the window, unable to resist. I peeled the curtain just enough to peek.

He stood in the courtyard, the moonlight draping over his tall frame. And God help me, he looked… unreal. Broad shoulders, the cut of his suit hugging him like it was sewn from sin itself, every line of muscle sculpted with a precision that made my throat go dry.

I hated myself for staring. For noticing.

He was talking to Matteo now, their voices low, the conversation sharp. From the tension in Matteo’s jaw, from the stiffness in his posture, I knew it wasn’t friendly. Matteo wasn’t the kind to back down easily, but in front of him… even Matteo looked small.

I dragged my eyes away, cursing under my breath.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I whispered, sinking to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. My forehead pressed against them as I tried to breathe. “Why are you still looking at him? Why do you still feel this?”

He was danger. He was forbidden. He was everything I should run from.

But the memory of his smirk lingered, curling around my thoughts like smoke.

Minutes passed, heavy and suffocating. The silence of the villa felt wrong, unnatural, as though the house itself was holding its breath. My body refused to calm, every nerve alert, screaming that something was about to happen.

I pushed myself up from the floor, wiping the sweat from my palms against my dress. I couldn’t stay locked in my room like a coward. I needed answers. I needed to know what was happening. I stood for some minutes,not knowing what decision to make.

Swallowing hard, I walked to the door. My hand hovered on the handle for a second, trembling. Then I forced it open.

The hallway stretched quiet, too quiet, marble floors gleaming under dim lights. I stepped out, trying to steady my breath, my bare feet barely making a sound.

And then—

I collided with something solid.

No,it was someone.

A wall of muscle, warm and unyielding, blocking my path. I gasped, staggering back, my heart leaping into my throat.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze.It was Matteo.

I blinked up at him, stunned, my breath shallow against the wall of his chest. His hands gripped my arms firmly, steadying me before I could fall.

The way he held me felt strange. Awkward. Too careful.

“Easy,” he murmured, his voice low but even, his eyes locked on mine as if reading every thought, every fear.

I swallowed hard, my pulse skipping. His touch wasn’t rough or cold, not the usual way Matteo carried himself. It was… different. Steady. Protective, almost.

He must have seen the panic written all over my face, because his next words cut straight through me.

“He’s not here to cause trouble.”

My breath caught. My lips parted, ready to ask—then why is he here?—but Matteo didn’t give me the chance.

“Remain calm,” he added, his tone firmer now, though his thumb brushed against the inside of my arm in a way that sent an uncomfortable shiver through me.

I wanted to argue. I wanted to demand answers. But Matteo suddenly pulled me closer, closing the small space between us. My heart lurched as his hand lifted, pressing gently against my forehead.

And then his lips followed.

Soft. Lingering. Too long.

My breath hitched as heat flooded my cheeks. This wasn’t the fleeting, brotherly comfort one might expect. No,Matteo’s mouth stayed there, his lips pressed against my skin as if he was reluctant to let go.

The silence stretched. My heart hammered.

Why did it feel like he was trying to anchor me and unsettle me at the same time?

I closed my eyes, torn between leaning into the warmth and pushing him away.

His lips finally pulled back from my forehead, but the warmth lingered there, like a brand I couldn’t shake off. I stumbled for words, still frozen in his hold, still searching his eyes for an explanation.

Matteo’s gaze softened for a fraction of a second, then hardened again—like he’d put the mask back on. The mask he always wore.

“Let’s have dinner,” he said simply.

Just like that. As if he hadn’t just held me too close. As if his lips hadn’t lingered on my skin longer than they should have.

Dinner? Now? With him downstairs?

I stared at Matteo, stunned. My throat worked, but no sound came out. Was this his way of distracting me, calming me down, or was it something else entirely?

His hand was still on my arm, steady, firm. Too firm. Like he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Matteo…” My voice cracked with all the things I wanted to say. Why is he here? Why are you acting like this, what’s going on? But none of them left my lips.

Instead, Matteo tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he could see every storm raging inside me. Then, in that calm, commanding tone that made everyone around him obey, he repeated, “Dinner. Now.”

And just like that, my stomach twisted,not from hunger, but from the dread of knowing I was about to sit at the same table with both of them.