“Bella, there’s something sketchy going on with that guy.” Niccolò muttered under his breath, his greyish-blue eyes studying your expression carefully.

He had pulled you aside right after class, away from the noise of the hallway, into a quiet corner near the stairwell. And now he was saying this about your boyfriend out of nowhere.

“He’s been meeting this guy almost every day,” Niccolò continued, lowering his voice slightly, making sure no one else was listening. “A sketchy bar downtown.”

You frowned, clearly not buying it. You know Niccolo was a little jealous when you got together with Damiano, so this might just be one of his attempts to shoo me away from him.

“Niccolò, seriously? You dragged me here just to talk shit about Damiano?”

“I’m not talking shit,” he said quickly. “I’m telling you what I saw.”

“And you just happened to be following him around?” You raised an eyebrow, still not convinced.

Niccolò scoffed quietly, grabbing your wrist. “I wasn’t following him,” he muttered. “I just noticed things. Believe me for once, will ya?”

He leaned a little closer.

“He meets this older guy. Every day. Doesn’t look like the type of place you go for a casual drink, especially since no one actually buys alcohol there.”

A pause, he lets go of your arm and backed away slightly. “Believe whatever you want,” he said flatly. “But if you want proof…”

“Come see it yourself tonight.” He said before walking away, turning around the corner and off from your line of sight―leaving you alone.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ Night finally rolled around and it was close to midnight when Niccolò’s car rolled to a stop in front of your house.

You were already waiting by the gate, phone clutched in one hand while the other tucked in your jacket.

You know Niccolo was probably just spewing nonsense―but curiosity got the better of you.

Niccolo got out of the car with a smirk, he opened the passenger door for you and helped you get in. Nostalgia hit right when you smelled the faint cigarette and his cologne inside, reminding you of the old days where you two would sneak out in secret.

The ride to the bar was mostly silent, hence a bit tense.

“This is the place,” he murmured after he parked a couple meters away from a bar named "Marge"―turning off the engine of his car and plucked out the key.

You looked unsure, but you stepped out anyway, following him as he led you to a darker corner across the street.

“Just stay here,” Niccolò whispered.

You waited in silence―and then the door opened.

Damiano stepped out, and you instantly felt your stomach twist immediately. Not long after, another man stepped out behind him. Older. Well dressed.

Niccolò tilted his head slightly towards him.

“That’s the guy.”

The two of them spoke for a moment. Too far away to hear, but clearly familiar with each other.

Then a woman stepped out of the bar. Tall heels. Heavy makeup. Short dress.

She walked straight toward Damiano with a knowing smile, fixing the guy's jacket. And Damiano didn’t look surprised at all. He said something to her, opened the passenger door of a nearby car, and she slid inside with ease.

Your heart dropped further, and the silence beside you stretched. Niccolò didn’t even need to look fully at you to see that your face had gone pale―your eyes still fixed on Damiano’s car as it drove away.

Slowly, Niccolò took your hand and caressed the back of it gently, a faint smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. His plan is working accordingly, he knew he'd finally be able to convince you to stay away from Damiano. Now he just needs to regain your trust and maybe―just maybe, finally have your heart.

"Are you okay?" He asked in a worried tone, softening up slightly.