The rest of the day passed in a haze for Bianca. Matteo’s words lingered in her mind like a melody she couldn’t forget. She spent the afternoon inspecting the vineyard with Antonio, but her focus kept drifting back to the man who had disrupted her carefully ordered life. By evening, the sun had dipped below the hills, and the villa glowed warmly against the encroaching twilight.

Bianca stood on the villa’s balcony, a glass of wine in hand. The air was cool, laced with the scent of jasmine. She stared out at the rows of vines stretching into the distance, wondering if Matteo’s warnings about the future of the vineyard had merit. Could she really preserve her family’s legacy without evolving? The thought filled her with equal parts dread and determination.

The sound of footsteps pulled her from her reverie. She turned to see Matteo emerging onto the balcony, his presence as commanding as ever. He carried his own glass of wine, the deep red liquid catching the dim light.

“I thought you’d be in town,” she said, her tone clipped.

“I was,” he replied, leaning against the railing. “But I couldn’t resist the chance to see the vineyard at night. There’s something magical about this place.”

Bianca studied him, trying to decipher the man she had once trusted implicitly. “It’s more than a vineyard. It’s my home.”

“I know,” Matteo said, his voice softening. “And that’s why I want to help you protect it.”

“You make it sound like I can’t do that on my own,” she shot back, her defensiveness flaring.

Matteo held up a hand. “That’s not what I meant. You’ve done an incredible job, Bianca. But the world is changing, and this vineyard… it deserves to thrive, not just survive.”

She sighed, swirling the wine in her glass. “You talk a good game, Matteo, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to your return than you’re letting on.”

His eyes met hers, steady and unflinching. “You’re right.”

The admission took her by surprise. She hadn’t expected him to be so forthright. “So, what is it? What aren’t you telling me?”

Matteo hesitated, a rare flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. He set his glass down on the railing and turned to face her fully. “When I left Sicily, it wasn’t just because I wanted a fresh start. There were… complications. Things I couldn’t involve you in.”

“That’s vague,” she said, crossing her arms. “Try again.”

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she remembered from their youth. “I was working with some people in New York. Business partners. At first, it seemed legitimate, but I realized too late that they weren’t the kind of men you say no to.”

Bianca’s breath caught. “You’re saying they were… criminals?”

Matteo’s jaw tightened. “Yes. And when I tried to get out, it didn’t go well. That’s why I disappeared. I couldn’t risk them coming after you or your family.”

She stared at him, struggling to process the revelation. Matteo had always been bold, but this? It was beyond anything she had imagined. “And now? Are they still a threat?”

“Not directly,” he said. “I’ve spent the last few years cleaning up the mess I made. But their influence still lingers in the industry. That’s part of why I’m so adamant about this partnership. If we can establish the Rossetti name internationally, it’ll make it harder for anyone to interfere.”

Bianca’s mind raced. Matteo’s return had already thrown her off balance, but this new information was like a tidal wave. She had a thousand questions, but one rose above the rest.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I was ashamed,” he admitted. “I didn’t want you to see the mess I’d made of my life. And I knew you’d never forgive me for leaving.”

Her chest tightened. Matteo’s betrayal had cut deeply, but hearing his side of the story stirred something unexpected: understanding. She didn’t know if she could forgive him, but she couldn’t deny the sincerity in his voice.

“You should have trusted me,” she said finally. “We could have faced it together.”

“Maybe,” he said, a shadow of regret in his eyes. “But I’m here now, Bianca. And I want to make things right.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. For the first time, Bianca felt the faintest glimmer of possibility—not just for the vineyard, but for something more. Yet the path forward was as uncertain as ever.

“We’ll see,” she said, turning back to the vineyard. “But don’t expect me to make this easy for you.”

Matteo chuckled softly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”