Bianca woke to the scent of freshly baked bread wafting through the villa. The early morning light filtered through her bedroom curtains, casting soft, golden hues across the room. She sat up slowly, her mind heavy with the revelations Matteo had shared the night before. Despite the serenity of the vineyard, her thoughts churned like a stormy sea.

She dressed quickly, choosing a simple blouse and fitted jeans, and made her way to the kitchen. Antonio was already there, sipping espresso while a tray of pastries cooled on the counter.

“You’re up early,” he said, glancing at her over the rim of his cup.

Bianca nodded, pouring herself a coffee. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Antonio’s brows furrowed. “Is it about him?”

She didn’t need to ask who he meant. Matteo’s presence had unsettled not just her but the entire household. Antonio, fiercely loyal and protective, had made his suspicions clear from the start.

“It’s complicated,” she admitted, taking a seat across from him. “But he’s not the same man who left.”

“People don’t change that much,” Antonio said, his voice gruff. “Be careful, Signora. He’s hiding something. I can feel it.”

Bianca sighed, running a hand through her hair. “He’s already told me more than I expected. Now it’s my turn to figure out if I can trust him.”

Before Antonio could respond, the sound of a car engine echoed through the courtyard. Bianca rose and moved to the window, her heart skipping a beat as she spotted Matteo stepping out of a sleek black car. He looked effortlessly polished, as though he belonged in the pages of a fashion magazine.

“Speak of the devil,” Antonio muttered.

Bianca shot him a warning look before heading to the front door. Matteo was waiting at the base of the steps, a bouquet of wildflowers in hand.

“Good morning,” he said, offering her a smile that was both disarming and infuriating.

“What’s this?” she asked, eyeing the flowers.

“A peace offering,” he said, extending them toward her. “For being such a disruptive force in your life.”

She hesitated, then accepted the bouquet. The gesture was simple, yet it stirred something in her she wasn’t ready to name. “Thank you. But flowers won’t fix everything, Matteo.”

“I know,” he said, his tone earnest. “But it’s a start.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the tension between them palpable. Finally, Bianca spoke. “Why are you really here, Matteo? And don’t give me some rehearsed line about partnerships and legacy.”

He met her gaze, his expression serious. “I’m here because I couldn’t stay away any longer. Leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life, and I’ve spent every day since trying to make up for it. I’m not asking you to forgive me, Bianca, but I need you to know that I’m here for more than just business.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Bianca’s chest tightened as a flood of emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to believe him, to let herself feel the hope that flickered deep inside her. But the scars of the past ran deep, and trust was not something she could give freely.

“Actions speak louder than words,” she said finally, her voice steady. “If you’re serious about being here, then prove it.”

Matteo nodded, his gaze unwavering. “I intend to.”

---

The day passed in a blur of activity. Bianca threw herself into work, overseeing the vineyard’s operations and coordinating with distributors. Matteo kept his distance, spending most of the day speaking with workers and observing the vineyard’s inner workings. She couldn’t help but notice how easily he connected with everyone, his charm winning over even the most skeptical of the staff.

By evening, the household gathered for dinner under the pergola, the table laden with dishes of grilled vegetables, fresh bread, and hearty pasta. Matteo joined them, his presence a mix of confidence and humility. Bianca watched him carefully, noting how he listened intently to the workers’ stories and shared his own experiences with warmth and humor.

As the meal wound down, Matteo raised his glass. “To the Rossetti vineyard,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet reverence. “May it continue to thrive for generations to come.”

The toast was met with a chorus of agreement, and Bianca found herself unexpectedly moved. For the first time, she wondered if Matteo’s return might not be the disruption she feared, but the catalyst the vineyard needed.

Later, as the stars filled the sky, Bianca found herself walking among the vines, the cool night air a welcome balm to her restless mind. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice Matteo until he was beside her.

“You’ve built something incredible here,” he said, his voice low.

“It wasn’t easy,” she replied, her tone guarded.

“Nothing worthwhile ever is,” he said, his gaze steady. “But you don’t have to do it alone, Bianca. Let me help.”

She looked at him, searching for the man she had once loved in the face of the man he had become. The moonlight softened his features, but there was no mistaking the determination in his eyes.

“We’ll see,” she said at last, her voice quiet but resolute.

And for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to carry the weight of the vineyard alone.