Niccolò's POV:

I watched her face as she saw the view for the first time. Her mouth formed a little O at the sharp intake of breath. Before I could stop her and tell her not to go towards the edge, she was out of my embrace and was shouting over the wind up there, "Oh my god, this is amazing! I can't believe I'm here!"

Her childlike innocence and appreciation were contagious; before I could help myself, I was smiling alongside her. I noticed her eyes became glossy, and a small tear escaped her; she quickly wiped it away before looking up at me again. She was beaming, her green eyes full of appreciation, genuine appreciation. "Thank you," she mouthed before turning again towards the view.

I could only watch her. Her, her, her. My heartbeat took her as my rhythm, and I was scared. I walked closer. "You, okay?" I wanted to pry, I wanted to crawl under her skin so she would lash out at me, and I would forget these sensations I was having while we were walking up.

She nodded before looking up at me with glossy eyes, "Yeah, why?"

"Nothing, I thought I saw you crying," I shrugged.

"I do that a lot when I have a beautiful view in front of me," she answered, "I'm just so grateful to be here." Those were the last words before my heart stopped beating. She was completely raw on that roof and completely genuine, looking at me with so much innocence and admiration that I knew I wasn't worthy of it.

"Okay, now let's get the picture and head back. We need to speed things up if we want to win." I said to shift from her soppiness to the task at hand. The last thing I needed now was innocence in my world. I was going to hell, but I didn't need it to be more painful than it already was.

She nodded and turned on her heels so her hair flowed in my direction, sending a shiver of need through my cock. God, this woman will be the death of me. "I was thinking here," she pointed to a spot between two spikes, "you can see almost the exact part of the square like in the picture."

She was right, I noticed as I made my way behind her to take the selfie. "Oh, no, you're blocking the view with your height," she turned around and patted my shoulder for me to get lower.

I crouched, but it didn't work. The square was still behind my head. "I'll need you to go on your knees," she said absentmindedly while looking directly at the camera. I was surprised at how my body just bent to her will and knelt. I rarely went to my knees for anyone, but this woman in front of me had prepared me to do just that within two hours of us meeting each other and not even in a sexual context.

"Great," her enthusiastic voice made me look up again from my bent knees in front of me. I saw us in the picture, her a complete sight of happiness and me – I looked intrigued. I looked like I couldn't believe what was just happening, and that was because I couldn't. I was on my knees for a woman.

She took her picture and then quickly put the phone in her bag. Turning, she saw on the other side of the roof another pair from our course, "Shit, they're already here, we need to hurry."

I was taken by surprise at her cursing but even more so by her taking my hand and almost dragging me towards the entrance on the rooftop. I felt her determination to win this little game, and I wanted to help her out. After all, she helped me out with Angelo and didn't ask many questions. She was, at the same time, naïve and smart with the questions she asked me and the answers she was content with.

Before we went into the small space again, I stopped her, "I'll go first, so if you trip, I can catch you."

"I won't trip. We don't have time for me tripping," she determinedly said, and it looked so damn cute on her that my heart constricted at the sight.

"Still, if I trip, there's no way you'll catch me. I'll just crush you. You're going behind me," I was determined; I knew how slippery these stairs were, and I wasn't taking my chances with her.

She nodded and let me go first in the enclosed space. She locked in behind us, and I started walking downstairs. The stairs were slippery, and it showed when I noticed she was taking more and more time to descend. We would lose just because of these damn stairs.

I stopped and crouched, "Hop on, and I'll carry you."

"What, no, I can walk," she refused.

"Don't be silly. You're stopping us, and this way, we can have a chance at winning. But if we continue at this tempo, they'll overtake us."

I saw her eyes calculating the pros and cons of it all. But the thought of winning must have prevailed as she slowly nodded, "Okay. Where do you want me?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Just put your hands around my neck and your legs around my waist," I crouched a little lower so she could get on me. She did as I told her, and I put my hands under her backside. When I stood up, she gripped the front of my shirt a little more.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

And I started running down the stairs two and sometimes even three steps at a time, taking large steps. Isabella behind me shouted, "No, I don't want to die. Shit. Why did I say yes?"

"Relax. I know what I'm doing."

"We're going to die. We'll fall. Oh shit. No, no, no," she repeated, and I almost rolled my eyes before remembering I was running. Her voice in my ear was keeping me occupied from thinking the same thoughts as her. However, I trusted in my abilities to get us safely on the ground.

"Will you stop talking and shouting so much, you're confusing me," I shouted back.

"I'm sorry. I'm scared. I can see the floor meeting us, and the sight isn't pretty," she whispered, and I heard the fear in it.

"Don't you trust me?" I asked.

"No, I don't," she deadpanned.

"Well, you should trust me. I won't let anything happen to you," I said in a gentler tone.

"That doesn't help the fact that I am staring into our doom," she raised her voice again in fear.

"Okay, just don't look, close your eyes," I instructed the only way I knew how.

"I can't. They won't shut," she sounded exasperated as I sighed.

"Okay, I know," she said and buried her face in my neck. "Now I'm not looking, and I don't see anything. We're only on a rollercoaster, and everything will be fine," she continued murmuring encouraging words against my skin, and I didn't know what to do.

The only thing keeping me from having a hard-on was the fact I was running down the stairs and the knowledge that a wrong move could mean a certain death for me and Isabella. So, we continued like that for a couple of minutes more, with her murmuring words against my skin and gripping me for dear life and me running as my life depended on it.

"We made it," I said the moment I made my last step on the ground level. A sudden cold space was felt on my skin, where Isabella's face was just a couple of seconds ago. She was looking up, and I crouched so she could get off me.

"Oh, my God, we survived." She exclaimed. "We survived. You did it. You did it. Thank you. Now, let's go."

She put the keys in my hand and marched towards the side door where the scooter was still waiting for us. I hopped on behind her and put my arms around her again on the handlebar. She started maneuvering it and giving me instructions, "So, I need you to take a picture of us on the scooter while I am driving next to the coffee shop. We've got no time to waste and stop, so you've got one chance. Don't blow it."

She was so bossy. Not a minute ago, she was murmuring praises and cursing under her breath. And now she was collected and almost calm and giving orders like she owned the place, like she owned me. I was impressed.

"Yes, sir," I answered to make her laugh, but I didn't succeed. Instead, I got another question, "I'm going in the right direction, right?"

I nodded before I remembered she couldn't see me, so I said, "Yes."

"Great, I think I remember how we got from there to here, so I think I can figure out how to get back, but if I go off the track, tell me," she shouted over the traffic that was in front of us.

"Okay," I was taken aback by how well she already knew the streets.

"Okay, do you have your phone ready? The coffee shop will be on your left in a minute," she warned me. I fished my phone out of my pocket and outstretched my hand. On the left, I could see us getting closer to the place, and I looked at the camera. "Smile, Isabella," I said before the shutter went off.

The hotel was only two minutes away, but I could see another pair coming from the other side, and so did Isabella. "No, they won't," I could hear her cursing under her breath as she stopped the e-scooter in front of the lobby.

"Go, go, go," she shouted at me to get off. And then it all happened in a blur. She pushed the rotating door and took me by the hand so we were in an enclosed space. The pair was behind us.

She looked up at me before asking, "Do you have an idea about how we could keep them here?"

I shook my head; she wanted to win. She sighed, "Okay, then just hold the rotating door for me, and I'll figure it out."

I did as I was told for the nth time today while I was asking myself why. It wasn't something I was used to doing. I was used to giving orders and not being on the receiving end of them. I didn't notice Isabella fidgeting with something in her purse. She pulled out her notebook and tore a couple of papers out. Then she made a pyramid out of it and shoved it under the rotating door.

"Let's go," she grinned at me.

We ran towards the hall and rushed through the door only to find another pair beating us to it. Her shoulders sagged, and I needed to do something to make her look on the positive side again, "Maybe they don't have all the clues solved."

She looked up with a little bit of hope returning to her eyes, "You think?"

I nodded, even though I didn't. We went to the front, where the course instructor asked us how many clues we managed to solve, "All of them," Isabella said proudly as she showed him the pictures and the sunglasses.

"What about the napkin?" he asked. I unlocked my phone and went to the gallery, where I had a pretty picture of Isabella riding a scooter with sheer determination in her eyes and me standing behind her with a grin on my face. The coffee shop was clearly visible in the background.

"Well, I guess you are the winner. The pair before you couldn't find the coffee shop," the instructor congratulated us and asked for our names to have our fees reduced.

"Isabella Sinclair," Isabella beside me said, "from London."

"And you?" the instructor turned to me. He didn't know who I was, and that was a relief. Somehow, everyone in this city knew of me or my family.

"Niccolò Lucchese," I whispered as the realisation of my surname dawned on the instructor. He gulped, but before I could say anything else, the pair we had trapped in the lobby came rushing in through the door and towards us.

"Well, we'll leave you to the rest of the clue hunters," I smiled at the instructor to try to soften the blow from my surname. I led Isabella to the side so she wouldn't need to hear how the team was arguing because of us.

Once they found out we won, we were on the receiving end of silent glares, but I didn't care because Isabella was happy, and in the last two hours spent with her, I realised her happiness somehow always correlated with mine. The instructor looked me up and down a couple of times before continuing with the conversation with the other teams that slowly came in. I'll have to talk to him after the course, I thought to myself.

"We did it, we did it," Isabella's voice broke my thoughts as she almost jumped up and down, "I guess we don't make such a bad team after all."

"No, we don't," I agreed, "but your competitiveness helped us."

She scrunched her nose, "I'm not competitive."

"Yes, you are. I mean, who else would trap another human being between rotating doors," I chuckled at the memory. She really was something. I still didn't know if her quick mind should be something I had to be worried about or something I should be in awe of.

"Okay, fair point," she shrugged, "but I'm not the one that almost put us to our deathbeds by running down the stairs at the Duomo."

I rolled my eyes, and she caught it, "Don't roll your eyes at me."

I chuckled she was so cute when she was angry, "Come on, let's go to the back. We have some time to kill before the others come back." I tried to get her away from the death stares from the other teams, and I would lie if I denied I also wanted to have her to myself for a little while longer.

She followed me quietly. Once we were seated, I asked, "So you're from London?"

She nodded "And you're from Italy?"

I was weary, "How did you know?"

"Your surname and a hint of an accent gave you away," she smiled before continuing, "Plus, you've got the Italian look down to a T."

Okay, so she was just a great observer, she wasn't out to get me, I tried to relax. I might have spent the last two hours in her company, but that didn't mean I would let her pass around me as some naïve little girl. No, a background check on her was to be made before tomorrow morning.

"I couldn't figure that you're from London. You don't have the accent," I tried to keep the conversation light.

She nodded, "I get that a lot. Maybe because I've lived in Sweden for seven years."

"How's that?"

"My parents are both professors, and they got a job at one of the universities there when I was little. So, I could say I spent my formative years in an international kindergarten and primary school in Sweden before going back to London. That's probably why I don't have the accent," she shrugged.

"So, you know Swedish?" I asked.

"No, I mean. I can't speak it. I understand it a little bit. However, I'm not confident in my language skills." She blushed, "You've seen me struggle with my Italian."

"You didn't seem to be struggling," I gave her one of my encouraging smiles. Yes, I was irritated in the morning at the coffee shop. But it wasn't precisely because of her. I had a company to run, and some papers were displaced, and before I could find them, I was already late for my father's last wish. I was irritated with myself because I didn't do better.

"But you were annoyed with me," she shook her head in disbelief.

"No, it wasn't because of you. I was running late due to a technical issue in one of my companies, and I was pissed at the employees for not doing their job," I tried to explain.

"You've got companies? As in plural?" she was shocked.

I nodded like it wasn't a big deal because it wasn't, at least not in my world.

"Wow, but you look so young," she quickly covered her mouth and blushed, "sorry that came out wrong."

"How old do you think I am?" I chuckled at her for being so honest.

"I don't know," she lowered her gaze, clearly embarrassed. Then she looked up, and no hint of embarrassment was in her eyes. She bounced back as quickly as me, and that was something to be intrigued by.

"Okay, maybe 24?" she asked carefully. "I mean, we're all still in university, and this is a course in the psychology of assessment and how to be a better leader by knowing your team? So, I thought we're all here to just get to know how teams work."

"I'm not in university anymore," I started with the easier part. "I'm 26, and my dad signed me up for this course for it to help with the position I inherited."

I was surprised that I was so comfortable sharing the truth with her. It was part of the truth, but nevertheless, the truth it was. I didn't even tell that part to my mother, but around her, it seemed I became more relaxed. If I hadn't been in the business since I was ten, then maybe I would be worried because I was letting my walls down too soon. But I also knew that sometimes glass walls were the best protection, and with Isabella, it seemed that it could work.

Before we could continue with our conversation, the instructor caught our attention, "I'm glad you all spent such a lovely afternoon bonding with each other and saving my clues. I thought that this could be all for today. I'll leave you now to go exploring the city. But before that, I want to go over with you about the schedule for tomorrow."

I could see people nodding and Isabella grabbing her notebook and a pencil. She put her hair behind her ear so it wouldn't fall over her eyes. My fingers itched to do that for her. Why? I didn't know.

"Tomorrow, we officially start with the course. Each pair will get a stack of questionnaires to solve today. I know you didn't expect homework on the first day, but it's for your good. So today, you're expected to go through this stack," he lifted at least a sheet of a hundred papers in his hands, and I was surprised at how little the people opposed.

But after all, they were all here for similar reasons: to get the most out of this course. "Tomorrow, your partner will interpret your answers. I don't think I need to remind you to answer truthfully, as we all know the different kinds of biases that come with answering."

Isabella was nodding next to me while writing down: Solve the questionnaires, interpretation by the other person. Her handwriting was neat and in black ink, it stood out against the white sheet of paper.

"Any questions?" the instructor asked.

A couple of hands shot up. The questions were all about tomorrow. "You come here at around nine-thirty in the morning, and then we'll see it from there. You'll also need your laptops tomorrow. So, be sure to have them with you."

"Okay, that would be all. The questionnaries are here with me, and be sure that these stacks of papers don't leave your rooms. You've all signed an agreement of professionalism amongst us, and we don't need this to be revealed to the public."

Isabella put the pen and notebook in her bag, after writing: Bring the computer. Then she looked around the room before her eyes landed on mine.

"Aren't you going to get the questionnaire?" I asked.

"Not yet, I'll wait for the crowd to go away," she answered and bumped her knee up and down. "What about you?"

I shrugged, "Same, I need to talk with the instructor about something, so it doesn't matter."

She nodded in understanding before we were interrupted by a redhead, "Isa, I've got our questionnaires, come on."

She turned toward the voice and smiled, "Coming."

Her eyes found mine before speaking, "Thank you for today. I had a great time."

"No problem, see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," she smiled before going to her friend and out of my sight.

I took a deep breath. Tomorrow would be a carefully woven day for me. I'll need to give calculated answers because deep down, I knew I was afraid for the first time in my life. I wasn't afraid six months ago when I got a call about my father's passing; I wasn't afraid twelve years ago when I had to kill a man for the first time.

But tomorrow, I knew I would be afraid. Afraid of her getting to know my secrets. Lost in my thoughts about tomorrow, I barely noticed the instructor coming over with a stack of papers. The others were already out of the hall, and they were probably heading towards some club. It was Friday, after all.

"Lucchesi?" he asked, and I knew I had a deal to make.