His gaze is unwavering, locked onto mine as he continues.
“You think I don’t know what it’s like to have to prove myself? To have to fight for respect, over and over again, just to get people to shut the fuck up?”
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his long, wavy hair.
“Don’t stand there and act like you know me,giornalista. Because you don’t.”
The silence between us is thick, charged.
I should say something. Should push back.
But for once, I don’t know how to argue with him.
And for the first time, I don’t know if Iwantto.
Matteo lets out a low breath - almost like he’s shaking something off.
And just like that, the moment snaps.
His smirk slides back into place, his posture loosening.
“Anyway,” he says, rolling his shoulders like the last thirty seconds didn’t just happen - like I’m not still standing here trying to piece together what the hell just happened. “If you ever need more advice, I charge by the hour.”
I let out a breath, half annoyed, half something else entirely.
“I think I’ll survive without it.”
He grins, but there’s still something unreadable in his eyes.
“We’ll see.”
Then, without another word, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing there - heart racing, cheeks flushed, and completely, utterly off balance.
Chapter Sixteen
Matteo
Ishould have gone home.
Should have gone home. Should have gotten in my car, turned the music up loud enough to drown out the rage clawing at my insides, and let it go.
But I can’t.
And instead of driving home, instead of letting myself breathe, I’m here.
Back in the empty changing room.
Back where it all fucking started - where I became the player I am.
Where I built a career on being better, stronger, faster - on making sure I was the one who couldn’t be ignored.
And yet, despite our win, despite my performance, tonight wasn’t about me.
It was abouther.
The room is empty.
My fists clench at my sides as I pace the length of the floor, every muscle in my body wound tight, strung together by the one thing I can’t shake.