The following morning brought an overcast sky, the kind that turned the golden hues of the vineyard into muted greens and grays. Bianca stood at the edge of the terrace, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she watched the horizon. The air was heavy, thick with the promise of rain, and it matched the weight in her chest.

Her mind replayed Matteo’s words from the previous night. *Actions speak louder than words.* He had meant it as a challenge, but for Bianca, it was a reminder of how much was at stake. The vineyard was her life, her family’s legacy, and she couldn’t afford to gamble it on a man who had once left her behind.

“Thinking of running?” Matteo’s voice cut through her thoughts, low and teasing.

She turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets and a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. He had traded his usual suit for a more casual look—a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dark jeans that made him look impossibly at ease.

“Running isn’t my style,” she replied coolly, though her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. “I’m just preparing for the storm.”

Matteo stepped closer, his smile fading into something softer. “Storms can be cleansing, you know. They clear the air, make room for new growth.”

Bianca arched a brow. “Is that what you think you’re doing here? Clearing the air?”

“Maybe,” he said, his voice steady. “Or maybe I’m here to remind you that you don’t have to weather it alone.”

She looked away, unwilling to let him see the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. Matteo’s presence was unsettling in ways she hadn’t anticipated. He had always been magnetic, but now there was something else—a quiet determination that made her want to believe he had changed.

“What are you really doing here, Matteo?” she asked, her voice tinged with weariness. “And don’t tell me it’s just about the vineyard or me again. I’m not that naive.”

He hesitated, his gaze searching hers. “You’re right. It’s not just about the vineyard.”

Bianca’s heart thudded in her chest as he stepped closer, the space between them shrinking until she could feel the heat radiating from him.

“It’s about you,” Matteo said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I could come back here, focus on business, and keep things professional. But seeing you again… it’s brought back everything I tried to forget."

Her breath caught. “Matteo…”

Before she could finish, the sky opened up, rain pouring down in a sudden, torrential burst. Bianca gasped as the cold droplets soaked through her clothes, but Matteo didn’t move. Instead, he stood there, his hazel eyes locked on hers, as if the rain were nothing more than an afterthought.

“Let me prove it to you,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm. “Let me show you that I’m here to stay this time.”

Bianca’s pulse raced as she searched his face for any hint of deceit, but all she saw was sincerity. The rain plastered his dark hair to his forehead, and his shirt clung to his frame, but he seemed utterly unconcerned.

“You don’t make things easy, do you?” she said, her lips curving into a reluctant smile.

Matteo’s answering grin was quick and disarming. “Where’s the fun in easy?”

For a moment, the tension between them melted away, replaced by a shared laugh that felt like a glimpse of the past. But as the rain continued to fall, soaking them both, Bianca knew that their problems couldn’t be washed away so easily.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the villa. “You’ll catch a cold out here.”

He followed willingly, his fingers warm against hers despite the chill of the rain. As they stepped inside, Bianca released his hand and turned to face him.

“If you’re serious about staying, Matteo, then you need to understand something,” she said, her tone firm. “This vineyard isn’t just a business to me. It’s my family’s history, our blood, sweat, and tears. If you want to be a part of this, you’ll have to earn it.”

Matteo nodded, his expression solemn. “Like I said before, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Bianca held his gaze for a moment longer before turning away. She didn’t know if she could trust him yet, but for the first time, she felt the faintest glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, Matteo’s return wasn’t the storm she feared. Perhaps it was the start of something new.