Chapter One Hundred And Ninety Four
Mateo’s pov
The morning sun in Milan was bright, hot, and beautiful, but it did not make the heavy sadness inside my chest go away. The golden light streamed directly through the high windows of the massive rehearsal hall, shining onto the polished wooden floors where dozens of international models were practicing their walks. The entire room was filled with a loud, chaotic noise. Fashion designers were waving their hands and shouting orders in rapid Italian, assistants were running around with measuring tapes wrapped around their necks, and the deep, heavy bass of the runway music was already blasting from the large speakers, making the floorboards vibrate under my leather boots.
I stood by myself in a quiet spot near the back of the large hall, slow
