Isabella's POV:

After the day I had with Niccolò, all I wanted was to take a shower in my room and go through the questionnaires. From the stack of papers lying on my bedside table, I knew I would need at least two hours to go over them all.

I sighed, went into the bathroom, and did a thorough shower. I washed my hair and moisturised it, I exfoliated my skin and put lotion on it. It was my way of procrastinating. Once I was feeling refreshed, I took my pen, put on some mellow music, and started circling the responses that would describe me the most accurately. Samantha found me in the same position two hours later while I was in the middle of the last questionnaire.

"Oh, great, you almost finished them. So that means you can come with me to this club in the centre," she enthusiastically stepped into my room and took a seat next to the window.

"Huh, what club?" I asked in confusion.

She shrugged, "I don't know. But Linda from Australia said it's great and we're all going. Me, Rose, Matt, Linda and now you."

I wasn't feeling like going out, "I don't know, tomorrow we'll have to be up bright and early."

"Oh, boohoo," she rolled her eyes while she put her red fingernail on her chin so she could emphasise her next words, "Come on, Isa. It will be fun. You've finished with the questionnaire, and for God's sake, we're in Milan. We should do something fun. Something exciting."

"Fine," I caved because I was intrigued by this club. "Let me just finish this last bit, and then I'll change."

"Okay, knock on my door when you're ready," she said before leaving me to get ready. I finished the last page of questions while thinking about what I was going to wear. I decided on a red silky dress that was a gift from my roommates, who all thought I should go out more. When they gave me the dress, it was probably in mockery. However, I packed it for Milan just in case, in case of what I didn't know. But I had a hunch it would come in handy. I guess I wasn't wrong.

I put on black kitten-heel sandals and a matching black shoulder bag, where I stashed my phone and a small wallet. I wouldn't need that much money or a card, I thought to myself. Those shoulder bags were so small that I felt like an architect trying to find the space in them.

All in all, it took me half an hour. My brown hair had already dried up from the shower, and it fell down my shoulders in small waves, like I was used to. I decided to keep my makeup minimal because I expected to be sweaty by the end of the night.

Going into Samantha's room, I didn't know what to expect. However, Rose and Linda were already there. One was a student from New York, while the other came from Germany, respectively.

We met Matt in the lobby. He was a little bit boyish with his red hair and freckles scattered across his cheeks and nose. Then, we made our way downtown. Matt had decided to rent a car for the two weeks of his stay here so he could explore the vicinity of Milan. And his car was extremely convenient in times like this. It was a big Jeep-like car, so there was enough space for all of us.

The car ride was relatively short, and we soon found ourselves in front of a newly opened club, Marcelo. Matt seemed to know the bouncers as he went first, with us following him close behind. Once inside, I gasped, it was beautiful. I wasn't into the whole nightlife in London, but even I had to admit that the club was elegantly furnished.

The ceiling was covered with little chandeliers that reflected the lights coming from different parts of the walls. The bar was situated against the left side. Behind the bar, there was a giant mirror covering the whole wall except for the parts where the shelves with liquor popped up. The bar and the stools were made of some light wood that paired beautifully with the whites of the chandeliers and lights.

Opposite the bar, there was an area covered in tables and couches in the same colour as the light wood of the bar. In the middle of the room, there was a giant dance floor already covered with bodies in motion. I looked up around me and noticed that the club went on for two more floors where the couches and tables were situated and were enabling a view of the dance floor and the bar. I thought to myself that I entered another world just by being at the entrance.

Before I could gawk some more, Samantha grabbed my hand and dragged me to the bar, where she put down her card, "Due Cosmopolitan, per favore."

Then she turned towards me, "It's on me. You've already paid for the car ride from the airport."

"You know Italian?" I arched my brow, "and thanks."

She giggled, "Yes, when I need to order a drink."

Our drinks were made in record time. Rose and Linda were already on the dance floor with Matt hovering behind them, trying to keep them in their little bubble.

"So, how was being in a team with a certain tall, dark and handsome individual?" Samantha asked before taking a sip of her drink.

"It was okay," I shrugged, almost forgetting the eventful afternoon I had. She arched a brow like she couldn't believe me.

"Okay, he was nice. We won, and I think we'll make a great team," I answered truthfully; however, I tried omitting the fact that we had some issues to resolve. Or that we butted heads every couple of minutes.

She nodded, "I thought so. He looks like a smart man."

I took a sip, not knowing how to respond to that. Samantha's inquisition came to an end as she jumped from the bar stool, exclaiming, "I love this song. I'm going to dance. You take my card and join me once you're finished with your drink."

And before I could say anything more, she was just a head of red hair between the crowd. I looked over the bar and noticed there were at least six bartenders who were moving quickly from one place to another.

Another waiter came next to me, "Il capo è qui."

I shuddered at the mention of those words. I looked around, and then I noticed Nico at the front door, surrounded by a couple of men who seemed a centimetre or two taller than him and more muscular. I wondered how that was even possible because he was already tall. It was like he could hear my thoughts because his eyes found mine in the next three seconds. His face didn't give anything away, but his eyes widened in surprise before a small grin appeared on his face.

I didn't move. I didn't acknowledge him. It seemed smarter at the time. The next person who came after him only confirmed my apprehension. It was a couple, a beautiful woman and a scary-looking man with a scar running down the left side of his face.

I took another sip of my Cosmopolitan, just so I could have something to keep my mind and eyes off the things that Nico was clearly involved with. The waiter was still patiently waiting next to me for his order to be put across the counter.

Once he got the bottle from the very top shelf, he hurried back to the staircase that was next to the dance floor. I turned around to see if Niccolò was still close by, but he disappeared. I drank the rest of my drink and made my way towards the dance floor.

I danced the night away next to Samantha and Rose while Linda talked with Matt on a couch on the first floor. I thought that something was bound to happen between them. My mind sometimes jumped to Niccolò, but my eyes didn't find him again that night. Once I was in my bed around three o'clock in the morning, I was almost certain I only imagined the whole thing. Maybe my mind was just playing tricks with me because I'd spoken about him with Samantha.

My alarm went off too early for my liking. Once I was out of bed, I was reminded again that I wasn't physically prepared to be dancing the whole night like I did the evening before. But that didn't mean that I didn't have fun. I did. I felt free of my responsibilities and the image I tried so hard to uphold back home. Here, nobody knew me, and it was easier to let my mask slip away.

I got ready and packed my over-the-shoulder bag with my laptop and the solved questionnaires before making my way downstairs. At the breakfast area, I took some coffee to go and then headed towards the common hall. I didn't want to be late.

I looked around and saw that Niccolò was sitting in the back with his eyes furiously searching for something on his computer screen. I decided it would be best if we were seated together since we were in a team. I made my way towards him, "Hey, how are you?"

His gaze flickered from the screen, and his cold mask dropped, instead, he offered me a warm gaze, "Hey, I'm okay and you?"

"I'm fine," I answered and took a seat next to him. I lowered my bag next to my seat and took a sip of my coffee.

"You're not hungover?" he chuckled. I noticed he liked to make fun of me, but not in an ill-mannered way. More in a way where he just wanted to get a reaction out of me. However, I liked reacting to his provocations, even though I should know better.

"I saw you at Marcelo," he explained his question, "and if I might add, red suits you."

It was too early for these kinds of revelations. I tried to wrap my head around the fact that our little encounter wasn't just a figment of my imagination, he actually was at Marcelo. Trying to understand this, I completely forgot the part he complimented my dress.

"Oh," was all I could say in my confused state, but thankfully, the instructor decided to walk in and started to talk.

Niccolò chuckled next to me, probably at my loss of words. However, I decided not to pay attention to his ways of provocation. I needed to hear what our assignments for the day would be. Once we got the instructions on how to interpret our answers, the instructor let us go our separate ways. In the afternoon, we were expected to show up here and report if any problems would arise.

"We could go to the coffee shop and get some breakfast," Nico whispered so I could hear him over the noise of the others. His closeness wasn't unpleasant. I had become accustomed to his personal space in the past twenty-four hours, but still, his breath next to my skin made my mind foggy. I would need to keep working on having my hormones in check around this man.

"That would be perfect," I answered as I was putting my laptop in the bag. I stood up, and Niccolò was right behind me.

"So, what were you doing at Marcelo?" I asked once we were out of the hall and into a quieter atmosphere.

"Oh, it was a business thing. We're thinking about hosting some parties there, and I was checking out the venue," he said as he kept walking behind me towards the entrance. I could tell he was lying. Maybe he was not lying in full but omitting the truth, he was hiding something.

"The venue is beautiful. I just don't know what kind of parties would be suited for your employees in that kind of setting," I tried to keep the conversation going while going through the rotating door.

"What do you mean?" his voice became attentive. Every time I tried to talk to him about his job, his voice changed to a quieter and more controlled version. I was wondering why that is. What was he hiding?

I shrugged, "I liked the place, it has a youthful energy and all. However, I don't imagine a bunch of people on various boards there partying. The place is far too exposed for them to let their guard down."

I looked left and right before crossing the busy street, and Niccolò followed, deep in thought. Maybe I've said something that could help him with his decision about where to host his parties.

"You know, I think you're right," he said, "I need something much more reserved if I want my plan to work."

I nodded and proposed, "Yeah, like a cigar club."

"Huh?" he was confused.

"You know, smoking cigars. Don't you smoke them? Isn't that what men in power do?" I asked. "Were my stereotypes about CEOs completely off? Everything I knew of companies and bosses was that they smoked cigars and talked about "important things"."

"I don't smoke cigars," he was getting more and more confused.

I sighed before pushing the door into the coffee shop, "Then you should invite them to some club that could be the venue for your shared interest."

"Oh, you're right. I think we all like wine," he said absentmindedly.

"Great, so a wine retreat or a wine tasting in one of the bougie wine shops should do," I proposed.

He looked around the coffee shop and put his palm on the small of my back, "There." He outstretched his finger to the back of the room, "we can sit there."

I went in the shown direction, but before I could sit, he removed the chair for me. I was surprised; nobody had done that before. I thought to compare him to a gentleman, but then I remembered he didn't open the door for me. He might have looked like a model for some old money brand; however, his cool demeanour didn't fool me. I sensed he could be ruthless when necessary.

We placed our orders. I was surprised to know we had similar tastes in coffee, we both ordered a cappuccino. I got myself a croissant because I didn't have the time for breakfast. Then, we exchanged the questionnaires and began to interpret the answers of one another.

Two hours passed in silence with occasional questions about one another. When I was nearing the end of an interpretation of his team roles, I could only see him as a leader. That was all from the answers he gave through his questionnaire. Before I could talk to him about it, his phone rang. He spoke in Italian and too quickly for me to understand, but I could clearly see he was bothered by something.

He stood up and took the rest of his phone call outside. Once he finished his phone call and came back to the table, his fist was clenching and unclenching. "Everything okay?" I decided to gather my courage and ask.

He nodded, "Something came up with the company. They need me there even though I took some time off."

"Oh," I didn't know what to say, "if it's that important, you should go then. I would understand."

"No, they should know better," he shook his head. "I've told them to not be bothering me while I'm on vacation. They just don't know the definition of time off."

"Well, I'm sorry you can't have boundaries with them," I answered.

"I'll talk to them. They won't bother me again," he typed something on his phone.

I gulped. I didn't know if it was the right time for me to bring up the things I'd discovered about him. But before I could dwell in my thoughts any while longer, he asked, "So, did you find anything interesting about me?"

I nodded, "You were meant to be a leader. All your answers correlate directly with the role. The most important value that you are showing is the one about family, and surprisingly, you've got a good moral stance on all things." I continued to give him a rundown of his personality, and he listened attentively, nodding at my description of him.

"I think you nailed it," he chuckled and shrugged, "I know I am like that. I know I get too stubborn sometimes, I just don't admit it to myself."

"What about me? Did you find out something about me?"

"Yes, I did. Surprisingly to your very smart mouth, you're an introvert with an above-average expression of conscientiousness and openness. However, despite you taking the lead yesterday in our little scavenger hunt, you don't describe yourself as a leader. No, you're more like a mediator. The most important values in your life could be personal growth and helping other people. About your outlook on life, it seems you've been living a perfectly happy life up until now, and you don't expect anything to change shortly. You have trust in your abilities to get you where you want to be."

I nodded, some of the things were new to me, like the description of my outlook on life, but they still somehow fit in the picture I have of myself. "You got me."

"What about my outlook on life?" he asked for the interpretation of the last questionnaire.

"You've got a similar outlook on life. You don't like to dwell on the past. You believe in your abilities to get the work done. However, you don't believe you'll be happy in the future. So how come is that? Why don't you believe you'll be happy?"

"I don't deserve it," he said a little bit gruffly before looking down at his screen.

"Everybody deserves to be happy," I answered instinctively.

He chuckled, "Not me and not some people I know."

"I think that's bullshit," I waved my hand.

"If you would know me, then you would believe me," he said bitterly.

I reassuringly put my palm over his, "Okay, maybe you're right, maybe I don't know you well enough. But for what it is worth, I think you deserve happiness as much as any other person in this coffee shop."

He looked at our hands and then at me; his face was showing me confusion, but I didn't care. Just seconds ago, I could see sitting in his place a man who thought that happiness wasn't for him. I couldn't bear it. Niccolò might have been hot and cold towards me, but sometimes I caught his smile, and I couldn't believe he didn't see how happy he could be.

"Okay, if you believe I can be a happy person. What would a happy person be thinking right now?" he asked while turning his hand so he could wrap it around mine.

"A happy person right now would like to get a gelato because it's too hot outside for anything else. So, if you know a great place where we could get gelatos, you would make this person really happy," I showed to myself with two thumbs, which enabled me to break our physical contact. Sometimes, he was too much for me. And right now, he was.

He devilishly smiled before nodding, "I know just the place. Let's go."