The Monaco Scandal

Now, all I could do was wait and hope that it would be enough to win him back.

The story hit the next morning. “Alessia Cecchi: ‘I’m Fighting For My Man,’” the headline read. “Hotel Heiress Breaks Silence on Secret Romance.”

I devoured every word, my heart in my throat. The reporter had been kind, painting Matteo as the innocent victim of my deception, but also as a man of integrity and honor. She’d made it clear that I was the one at fault, but that I was also deeply in love and willing to do whatever it took to make things right.

I just hoped Matteo read it. Hoped he understood how sorry I was. How much I loved him.

But as the days turned into a week with no word from him, I began to lose hope. I’d put myself out there, bared my soul to the world, and still, he hadn’t come back to me.

“Maybe he just needs more time,” my publicist said, patting my hand sympathetically. “This is a lot for anyone to process.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure. Matteo was a proud man. A private man. Having his personal life splashed across the tabloids had to be killing him. And I was the one who’d put him in that position.

I was just trying to decide whether to go see him again, to throw myself at his mercy one last time, when my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

We need to talk. Meet me at the café. Now.

My heart leaped. Matteo. It had to be.

I didn’t bother to reply. Just grabbed my purse and rushed out the door.

The café was empty when I arrived, the “Closed” sign hanging in the window. My heart sank, but I pushed inside anyway, the bell over the door jingling cheerfully.

“Matteo?” I called, my voice echoing in the empty space. “Are you here?”

“Over here,” a voice called from the back room.

I followed the sound, pushing through the swinging doors into the kitchen. And there he was, standing at the counter, his back to me.

“Matteo,” I breathed, my heart pounding. “I got your text. What’s going on? What’s so urgent?”

He turned, and my heart stopped.

It wasn’t Matteo. It was his brother, Luca.

“Luca,” I said, my voice tight with disappointment. “What are you doing here? Where’s Matteo?”

“He’s gone,” Luca said, his expression unreadable. “He left. Early this morning.”

“Left?” I echoed, my heart plummeting. “Left for where?”

“Who knows?” Luca shrugged. “Said he needed to get away. Clear his head.”

I sank onto a nearby stool, my legs suddenly weak. “But the café…he just…he left it?”

Luca nodded. “Sold it to me. Said he couldn’t run it anymore. Not after…” He trailed off, his gaze pointed.

“Not after me,” I finished, my voice barely a whisper.

Luca didn’t deny it. “He’s humiliated, Alessia. The things they’re saying about him in the press…he can’t take it anymore.”

“I know,” I said, my eyes stinging with tears. “I’m so sorry, Luca. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know you didn’t,” he said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that my brother’s life has been turned upside down because of you.”

I flinched, his words hitting their mark. “I’m trying to fix it,” I said. “I did the interview. I told the truth. I just…I don’t know what else to do.”

Luca studied me for a long moment, his expression softening slightly. “He loves you, you know,” he said finally. “Despite everything, he’s still in love with you.”

I looked up at him, hope blooming in my chest. “He…he is?”

Luca nodded. “But he’s proud, Alessia. Too proud to come crawling back to you after everything that’s happened.”

I stood up, my heart racing. “Then I’ll go to him,” I said. “Where is he, Luca? Please, you have to tell me.”

He hesitated, then sighed. “He’s at the cove,” he said. “The one where we used to go as kids. He’s got the old sailboat we used to take out.”

I was already moving, heading for the door. “Thank you, Luca,” I called over my shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Just…be gentle with him,” Luca called after me. “He’s more fragile than he looks.”

I nodded, then pushed through the door and out into the street, my heart pounding with anticipation.

I was going to find Matteo. And this time, I wasn’t going to let him go.

I drove like a woman possessed, my heart pounding in time with the frantic thump of the tires on the road. The cove was on the other side of the peninsula, a secluded stretch of sand and rock that had been a favorite of ours during our brief, blissful time together. I’d never been there without Matteo, but I remembered the way like it was etched on my soul.

I abandoned the car at the top of the cliff, not bothering to lock it behind me. I half-ran, half-slid down the steep, rocky path, my shoes slipping on the loose gravel. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on my head and shoulders, but I barely noticed. All I could think about was Matteo. About seeing him again. About making things right.

I hit the sand at a run, my eyes scanning the beach for any sign of him. And then I saw it. The sailboat. Bobbing gently in the shallows, its white sails furled.

“Matteo!” I shouted, my voice echoing off the cliffs. “Matteo, where are you?”

For a long moment, there was no answer. Then, slowly, a figure emerged from the boat’s small cabin. Matteo. He was shirtless, his skin gleaming with sweat and seawater, his hair tousled and windblown. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He looked absolutely beautiful.

He shaded his eyes with his hand, squinting at me across the sand. “Alessia?” he called, his voice rough with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

I didn’t answer. Just started running again, my feet sinking into the soft, warm sand. I didn’t stop until I was right in front of him, until I could reach out and touch him, reassure myself that he was real.

“I’m here for you,” I said, my voice breathless with exertion and emotion. “I’m here to fight for you. For us.”

He shook his head, his expression guarded. “There is no us, Alessia. Not anymore.”

“Don’t say that,” I whispered, my heart clenching. “Please, don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth,” he said, his voice flat. “You made sure of that when you lied to me. When you let me fall in love with a woman who didn’t exist.”

“I do exist,” I said, my voice trembling. “The woman you fell in love with is me. The real me.”

He laughed, the sound harsh and humorless. “The real you is a billionaire heiress who’s used to getting whatever she wants,” he said. “The real you is a woman who doesn’t care who she hurts, as long as she gets her way.”

“That’s not true,” I said, my voice rising. “That’s not me at all. You know that, Matteo. You know the real me.”

“I thought I did,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “But now…I don’t know what to believe.”

“Believe this,” I said, stepping closer, until our bodies were almost touching. “I love you, Matteo. I love you more than anything in this world. And I’m not going to let you go. Not without a fight.”

He looked down at me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You’re wasting your time,” he said. “I can’t do this, Alessia. I can’t be with someone I can’t trust.”

“You can trust me,” I said, my voice urgent. “I know I messed up. I know I made a mistake. But I’m here now. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

He shook his head, his expression pained. “It’s not that simple,” he said. “You don’t understand what it’s been like for me. Seeing my face plastered across every tabloid in Europe. Having my family harassed. Having my business destroyed. All because of you.”

“I know,” I said, my voice thick with tears. “I know, and I’m so sorry. I’m going to fix it. I’m going to make it right. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He looked at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. “Why?” he asked finally. “Why do you even care? You could have any man you want. Why are you fighting so hard for me?”

“Because I love you,” I said simply. “Because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Because the thought of living without you…it’s unbearable.”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Alessia…” he began, then trailed off, shaking his head.