"What did you and your father talk about?" Alia asked when Matteo’s family finally left the office premises.
"Nothing you need to worry about. How was your lunch with Aiden?" Matteo asked, but Alia knew he was trying to evade her question when he went back to his desk and shuffled a few papers. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms; since they were in Matteo’s office with Ronan, she wasn’t worried about their conversation leaking to outsiders.
"It went fine. Don’t change the subject," Alia said. "Is there going to be trouble in the future? Matteo, I would like to know before I get blindsided."
Faced with Alia’s determined expression, Matteo could only sigh and reluctantly tell her.
"My father just ca to inform about a family dinner happening two weeks from now. The both of us need to be in attendance, while my―" Here, Matteo’s lips pinched as though he had just sucked on a lemon, "―stepmother judges your worth as my wife. I have tried to refuse, but he is adamant that we have to show up."
"How bad can it be?" Alia wondered. "It’s just dinner. And I’ve already t your brother, so that’s one family mber down. Now that I’m officially recognized as part of the Hawthorne family, I doubt she’ll make trouble for in case it gets back to my grandfather."
Matteo scowled. "Knowing her, she’ll make trouble for you anyway, because I chose you over Emline. For so reason, she was always so insistent on marrying Emline to , and not to Aiden. I still have no idea why. If Emline was as great a daughter-in-law as she claid, shouldn’t she be saving him for her own son?"
Ronan chid in, "Maybe she wants Aiden to aim even higher. That woman wouldn’t be satisfied unless a literal princess marries her baby boy and gives him a country to run. Watch out for her, Alia. She’s a real piece of work."
Alia pursed her lips as she contemplated Matteo and Ronan’s words. "Well, there’s no point in worrying about things now. We’ll cross that bridge when we co to it. Besides, we still have the family dinner with the Hawthornes to get through first."
Just the very thought made her heart sink. Her new grandfather also extended the invitation to her father, but her father had rejected it point-blank. He didn’t want anything to do with the Hawthornes, after how they indirectly caused the death of his beloved by not accepting her choices.
Alia wanted nothing more than for her father to be there as a supportive presence, but she knew so things were simply not possible.
"I’ll take care of everything," Matteo promised, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "All you have to do is show up and be your usual charming self."
Alia snorted. "I can be my usual self, or I can be charming. Matteo, I can’t do both."
A rare grin crossed his face. "Be yourself, just like that. They’ll love you, just like―"
Alia’s breath caught in her throat as she waited for Matteo to complete his sentence. Her heartbeat slowed, and it seed like the very air in the office stood still, waiting for his declaration. All she could focus on were Matteo’s eyes, pupils shining like the ocean―
"Everyone does," Matteo said, after a brief pause. He cleared his throat.
Alia’s heart sank, disappointed in his words and in her own emotions. What was she even hoping for?
"Thanks, that ans a lot," Alia said, trying to sound cheerful and optimistic. She tugged her hand away. "Well, I’ve got to go back to work now. See you later."
She scurried back outside to work, ntally scolding herself for her own delusions. Why was she harboring high hopes? He wasn’t in love with her. Alia knew that.
They were... friends. Allies. She was more his teammate in his sche than his lover.
anwhile, unknown to her, Matteo was similarly anguished.
"Ronan, why did you not stop ? Why did I say that?" Matteo lanted into his hands. "What was I thinking?! Now she thinks―"
"How could I have stopped you? I thought you were going to confess!" Ronan exclaid. "It was a perfect mont―"
"It was not a perfect mont!" Matteo rose up and paced agitatedly around his office, like an angry cat. "We are in the office. These are working hours. You are here―"
"Wow, you really know how to make a man feel loved and cherished―" Ronan grumbled.
"There is no music, no ambiance, no roses― nothing," Matteo said, shaking his head. "Of course this isn’t the right ti for it. Alia deserves better than a haphazard confession of my feelings after lunch."
Especially after she ate with his brother, out of all people.
"I’m telling you, you’re overthinking it. Does Alia seem like the type of woman who would care about such frivolities? She was perfectly happy eating kebabs with on a park bench," Ronan pointed out.
Matteo’s face soured as he recalled how happy they looked in the leaked photos, a tendril of jealousy blooming in his gut, even though he knew there was completely nothing between them. He couldn’t deny Ronan and Alia looked good together― if she had t Ronan before eting Matteo or Caleb, she might have already gotten together with him.
"Alia deserves better," Matteo insisted. "After years of Caleb Walton treating her like a dirty little secret, she needs to know there is soone willing to move mountains on her behalf."
"Start by moving that mouth of yours first," Ronan retorted. "How will she know you are in love with her if you don’t say anything? Are you planning to confess your love during your wedding?"
Matteo’s eyes lit up. "That is a perfect idea."
"No, I was joking―" Ronan despaired, but it was too late, for his best friend had imdiately gone down the rabbit hole.
Poor Alia, Ronan mused to himself. This woman was never going to realize Matteo was head over heels in love with her. At this rate, they might have children together and Alia would still think Matteo was using her to avoid getting married to Emline!
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