Chapter 3: The Beginning of Us
1244 Words
Nadia's POV
I should have known I was in trouble the moment I started smiling at my phone.
Not once.
Not twice.
But every single time Renzo texted me.
Which was often.
Far too often.
Not that I was complaining.
Okay, maybe I wasn't complaining at all.
Three weeks had passed since our first kiss on the waterfront.
Three weeks of late-night conversations.
Three weeks of stolen lunches.
Three weeks of learning things about him that made me like him even more.
And that was the problem.
I was falling.
Fast.
Dangerously fast.
The worst part?
I wasn't entirely sure he wasn't falling too.
My phone buzzed against my desk.
A smile immediately appeared before I even looked.
Pathetic.
Absolutely pathetic.
Renzo: Are you busy tonight?
I stared at the message for all of three seconds.
Me: Depends.
The reply came instantly.
Renzo: On?
Me: Whether you're asking me out.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Reappeared.
Then:
Renzo: Nadia Russo, are you flirting with me?
A laugh escaped me.
Me: Maybe.
This time his response came immediately.
Renzo: Good. Because I was planning to ask you out.
My stomach fluttered.
That stupid flutter again.
I hated it.
I loved it.
Mostly I loved it.
Me: Then I guess I'm free.
That evening, Renzo picked me up outside my apartment.
The moment I stepped outside, I spotted him leaning against his car.
His face lit up when he saw me.
That look alone was enough to make my heart misbehave.
"Hi."
The smile he gave me should honestly be illegal.
"Hi."
For a moment neither of us moved.
Just stood there smiling like idiots.
Then Renzo shook his head.
"What?"
"I missed you."
The words caught me off guard.
Heat rushed to my cheeks.
"You saw me yesterday."
"I know."
"That's concerning."
"It probably is."
I laughed.
His grin widened.
And suddenly everything felt easy again.
Natural.
As if we'd been doing this forever.
Dinner lasted three hours.
Not because we ate slowly.
Because we couldn't stop talking.
The restaurant gradually emptied around us.
Staff began clearing tables.
Yet neither of us seemed ready to leave.
At some point, Renzo reached across the table and took my hand.
Neither of us acknowledged it.
Neither of us let go.
The simple touch felt surprisingly intimate.
Comforting.
Dangerous.
Because it felt right.
Far too right.
By the time we finally left the restaurant, the city was glowing beneath the night sky.
We walked through quiet streets.
Talking.
Laughing.
Sharing stories.
The kind of conversation that made hours disappear.
Eventually, we found ourselves sitting on a park bench overlooking the river.
The city lights reflected across the water.
Everything felt peaceful.
Perfect.
For a while neither of us spoke.
Then Renzo broke the silence.
"My mother would have liked you."
The comment surprised me.
I turned toward him.
"You talk about her a lot."
His smile softened.
"She was my favorite person."
Something vulnerable flashed across his face.
Gone almost immediately.
But I saw it.
The sadness.
The loss.
The loneliness.
My chest tightened.
"When did she pass away?"
"I was seventeen."
His voice remained calm.
But I could hear the pain beneath it.
"I still miss her."
I squeezed his hand gently.
"I'm sorry."
A small smile appeared.
"She would've loved your honesty."
I laughed softly.
"Apparently that's my defining characteristic."
"It is."
His gaze met mine.
Warm.
Steady.
Affectionate.
The look made my pulse quicken.
Again.
Everything with him seemed to affect me.
Every smile.
Every touch.
Every glance.
It was becoming a problem.
A very attractive problem.
Renzo shifted slightly closer.
Close enough that I could smell his scent.
Close enough that my thoughts immediately became unreliable.
"Nadia."
My name sounded different when he said it.
Softer.
More personal.
"Yeah?"
He looked at me for several seconds.
As though weighing something.
Considering it carefully.
Then finally spoke.
"I don't want to see other people."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"I don't want casual."
His voice remained steady.
Certain.
"I don't want anyone else."
The world seemed to freeze.
The river.
The city.
The traffic.
Everything.
I stared at him.
Trying to process what he'd just said.
Slowly, a nervous smile appeared.
"You don't?"
His answering smile was beautiful.
"No."
My heart completely surrendered.
Not that it had much fight left.
Because the truth was simple.
I didn't want anyone else either.
I hadn't wanted anyone else since the charity gala.
"I don't want anyone else either."
Relief flashed across his face.
Followed by happiness.
Real happiness.
The kind that reached his eyes.
His hand tightened around mine.
"So..."
I laughed nervously.
"So?"
"Does that mean you're officially my girlfriend?"
The question should have terrified me.
Instead, it felt right.
Like the most natural thing in the world.
I smiled.
"Yes."
His grin appeared instantly.
Bright.
Boyish.
Completely irresistible.
For a moment he simply looked at me.
Then he leaned forward and kissed me.
Softly.
Tenderly.
Like I was something precious.
When we finally pulled apart, neither of us could stop smiling.
Girlfriend.
Boyfriend.
Such simple words.
Yet somehow they changed everything.
The following weeks passed in a blur.
Renzo became part of my everyday life.
Morning texts.
Lunch dates.
Late-night phone calls.
Weekend adventures.
He met Mia.
Who immediately adored him.
Unfortunately.
Because now I had two people teasing me instead of one.
Renzo also introduced me to some of his closest friends.
Marco.
Luca.
Enzo.
All of them welcomed me immediately.
Though they seemed oddly fascinated by my existence.
As if seeing Renzo this happy was unusual.
One evening, after another dinner with his friends, I finally asked.
"Why do they keep looking at me like that?"
Renzo laughed.
"Like what?"
"Like I'm a miracle."
His grin widened.
"Maybe they're just surprised."
"By what?"
He stopped walking.
Then turned toward me.
The city lights reflected in his dark eyes.
By the softness in his expression.
By the affection he no longer tried to hide.
"By how much I love being around you."
The words stole my breath.
For a moment I couldn't speak.
Couldn't think.
Couldn't do anything except stare at him.
His smile softened.
And suddenly I realized something.
I was falling in love.
Not maybe.
Not possibly.
Definitely.
Completely.
Terrifyingly.
In love.
The realization should have scared me.
Instead, it felt like coming home.
Renzo pulled me closer.
Pressing a kiss against my forehead.
And for that moment, everything felt perfect.
Completely perfect.
Neither of us noticed the man standing across the street.
Hidden beside a black sedan.
Watching.
Waiting.
A camera lifted slowly.
The lens focused on us.
Click.
Another photograph.
Click.
Another.
The man lowered the camera.
Pulled out his phone.
And made a call.
When the line connected, his voice was cold.
"I've confirmed it."
A pause.
His gaze remained fixed on Renzo and me.
"Yes, sir."
Another pause.
Then:
"The relationship is serious."
The person on the other end said something.
The man's expression darkened.
"I understand."
The call ended.
Across the street, Renzo wrapped an arm around my shoulders and guided me toward his car.
Neither of us saw the black sedan pull away.
Neither of us knew that somewhere in the city, a powerful man had just received a folder containing photographs of me.
And that for the first time, my name had landed on the desk of Vittorio Moretti.
Renzo's father.
The man who controlled an empire.
The man who would one day become my greatest enemy.
- Writer
