Chapter 13 - The Shadow in the GardenThe gala was overwhelming, a dizzying whirlwind of flashing cameras, forced smiles, and whispered threats masked as pleasantries. Needing a moment to breathe away from the suffocating scrutiny of Rome’s elite, I slipped through a set of French doors leading out into the palace’s sprawling, moonlit Renaissance gardens.
The air was cool and crisp, carrying the sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine. Marble statues of gods and nymphs stood like pale ghosts among the manicured hedges.
I leaned against a stone balustrade, closing my eyes and letting the silence wash over me. For a moment, I allowed myself to wonder what my life would look like if I had never gotten off that subway, if I had never walked through Central Park, if I had ignored the crying little boy in the designer suit.
"It's quiet out here," a smooth, unfamiliar voice said from the shadows.
I jumped, whirling around. Standing near the marble fountain was a young man in a pristine tuxedo, holding a silver cigarette case. He had sandy blonde hair, striking green eyes, and a devastatingly charming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I'm sorry," I said, recovering my composure and stepping back. "I was just looking for some air."
"Don't apologize, signorina," he replied, taking a slow step forward. "Everyone needs air when they're trapped in a room full of monsters. Though, I suppose you haven't realized just how terrifying your monster really is yet."
"Who are you?" I demanded, my internal alarm bells screaming.
"A friend," he smiled, flicking open his cigarette case. "Or at least, an enemy of your keeper. My name is Matteo Rossi—Lorenzo's youngest son. My father wasn't too pleased with how Alessandro threatened him inside. Men like Alessandro... they don't love, Sophia. They consume. And when they're done, there's nothing left of you."
Before I could answer, a heavy, suffocating weight settled over the garden.
"Step away from her, Matteo," Alessandro's voice cut through the cool night air like a razor.
I looked over. Alessandro was standing at the edge of the French doors, flanked by Marco and two other armed guards. His face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury, his dark eyes locked onto young Rossi with murderous intent.
Matteo raised his hands slowly, a mock-innocent smirk playing on his lips. "Just introducing myself to the American guest, Russo. No harm done."
"If you ever speak to her again," Alessandro said, his voice dropping into a lethal whisper as he closed the distance between them, "I will feed you to the wolves in the Abruzzi mountains piece by piece."
Matteo gave a shallow, mocking bow and slipped away into the shadows of the maze.
Alessandro didn't watch him go. He turned to me instantly, his hands gripping my shoulders as he searched my face for any sign of harm. "Are you alright? Did he touch you?"
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"I'm fine, Alessandro," I whispered, resting my hands against his chest. "He just tried to get inside my head."
"Do not listen to them," Alessandro growled fiercely, pulling me hard against his body. "They want to scare you. They want you to run. But if you run from me, Sophia, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth."
