Ties of Blood (Book One)

Chapter 43 ~ Gianna

Gianna Rostova

The words slipped out before I could stop them, had I just agreed to a date with the one guy who had used me and broken my heart.

But you just agreed to a date with the guy who had followed everywhere and is now on his knees begging for another chance.

A voice in my head echoed. Great. Now I was letting that voice in my head tell me what to do and who I go on dates on.

It was a rare sight to see Matteo on his knees, Matteo didn't seem like the kind to even apologize for hurting someone but here he was, looking up at me with a hopeful look.

Matteo Moretti. The billionaire. CEO. Mafia on the side. Cold. Reserved. Untouchable. Matteo didn't beg. He never chased after anyone. That same Matteo was now on his knees in front of me?

"One date?" He says, question like, his hands burning on my hips, which I hadn't removed for unknown reasons.

"One date," I repeat.

He stood up, to his full height again and I notice again how tall he was.

"One date," he says like it's setting in.

He stares into my eyes and I stare into his, those brown beautiful eyes I love so much. Loved. I pull away breaking the eye contact, and the world started spinning again.

"Goodbye," I say closing the door behind me avoiding a Matteo's deep brown eyes like they were a plague.

The door shut with a click and I leaned against it closing my eyes, letting the decision I made sink in.

What have I done? Why did I agree to that!

Because you still love him.

That voice in my head speaks again. I squeeze my eyes shut.

I would just go on the date and afterwards maybe he would realise that I wasn't worth waiting for. He would maybe lose interest.

I stood there for a moment, back pressed against the door, trying to steady my breath. My heart was racing, but I couldn't tell if it was from the shock of seeing Matteo on his knees or the decision I'd just made.

"One date," I whispered to myself, shaking my head. It felt like a dream, like the moment never actually happened, but the heaviness in my chest reminded me it was very real.

I stepped away from the door and walked over to the couch, collapsing into its worn cushions. My phone buzzed on the coffee table, and I knew who it would be without even looking.

Camilla.

I sighed and picked it up, already imagining her voice on the other end.

"Gianna? You okay?" Camilla's words spilled out, full of her concern, and it was like she could sense something was off with me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, trying to sound convincing. But even I could hear the waver in my voice.

"Hmm," she hummed, unconvinced. "You sure? I can come over if you need—"

"No," I cut her off, sitting up straight. "I'm just... tired. Long day." The last thing I wanted was for Camilla to see me in this mess. I hadn't even told her about Matteo breaking up, maybe because it hadn't even set in with me either.

A long silence stretched between us. Camilla knew me too well.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" she finally said, her voice soft.

"I know," I whispered.

My mind was racing, trying to figure out what to wear, what to say, how to act... but most of all, trying to figure out how I felt about Matteo now.

I had loved him once, deeply, recklessly, with everything I had. But now? Now, all I could feel was the ache of betrayal, the dull throb of old wounds that had never fully healed. And yet, there was a spark there too and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't seem to put it out.

Camilla and I talked about something else for a while, I could tell she was trying to cool the tension between us and I appreciated it but I just wanted to be alone. Eventually, we said our goodbyes and I binged watched a show for a few minutes, trying to take my mind off the inner turmoil churning inside me.

The doorbell rang again, startling me.

I stood up slowly, my heart pounding as I walked back to the door. For a brief, absurd moment, I thought Matteo might have come back. But when I opened it, there was no one there my eyes drifted down to see a small bouquet of orchids lying on the doorstep, with a note tucked between the petals.

One date - Tomorrow 5PM, I'll pick you up 
- M.M

It wrote in Matteo's messy but understandable handwriting.

I stared at the flowers for a long moment before picking them up. I knew I should be angry, frustrated, something. But instead, I felt something else—a flicker of hope, buried deep beneath the hurt.

I closed the door and leaned against it again, clutching the flowers in my hand.

This was either the best decision I'd ever made in my life or it was the worse t one I'd ever made. Either way, there was no turning back now.

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