Matteo Moretti

Intro The rain had started again, soft and steady against the windows, as she turned the key in the lock. The house was quiet — too quiet. No music, no hum of the television, no footsteps. Just silence. She stepped inside, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor, and paused. Laughter. It came from the living room. Low, intimate. A woman’s voice — unmistakably Serena’s. Her pulse quickened. She moved forward, slowly, like someone approaching a wild animal. And then she saw them. Matteo was sprawled on the couch, shirt unbuttoned, a glass of wine in his hand. Serena sat beside him, legs tucked under her, her fingers grazing his arm as she whispered something that made him smile. The smile died the moment he saw her. She didn’t speak at first. Just stood there, drenched in disbelief, her coat still clinging to her shoulders. “Didn’t realize I was walking into someone else’s living room,” she said finally, her voice low and razor-sharp. Matteo didn’t move. “It’s still your house.” “Is it?” Her eyes flicked to Serena, who was now watching her with a smug little grin. “Because it looks like she’s made herself very comfortable.” Serena leaned back, unfazed. “I was just keeping Matteo company. He seemed… lonely.” She ignored Serena, her gaze locked on Matteo. “Lonely? You have a wife upstairs. Or did you forget that part of the arrangement?” Matteo’s expression hardened. “I didn’t forget. I just stopped pretending it meant something.” The words hit her like a slap. She blinked, once, then twice, as if trying to clear the sting from her eyes. “Right,” she said quietly. “Because pretending with her is so much easier.” Serena laughed, soft and cruel. “Maybe if you weren’t so cold, he wouldn’t need me.” She stepped forward, her voice trembling but fierce. “I wasn’t cold. I was surviving. You made sure of that.” Matteo stood now, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on. “That’s enough.”