Chapter 25

Alexia

I woke up to the softest, most unfamiliar sound I had ever heard in Aurora’s apartment: a high-pitched, melodic giggle.

For a moment, I forgot where I was. Then the memories of the night flooded back—the beach, the confession, the way Aurora felt against the wall of her hallway, and finally, the terrifyingly cool Elena de Luca standing in the living room.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and noticed the space beside me was empty. The door was cracked open, and a tiny, energetic voice drifted in.

“Zia! Look! Guarda! My ball!”

I pulled on my hoodie and walked toward the living room, feeling like a stranger intruding on a private masterpiece.

Aurora was sitting on the floor, her hair a chaotic mess, holding a very small, very dark-haired girl who was currently trying to balance a miniature football on Aurora’s head.

“Lessi, piano! You’ll wake up—” Aurora started, but then she saw me. Her face broke into that shy, radiant smile that always made my heart skip. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I croaked.

The little girl—Alessia, or Lessi, as I’d learned—spun around. She had Aurora’s eyes, but Elena’s fearless intensity. She stared at me for three long seconds, clutching her ball.

“Chi è?” Lessi asked, tilting her head. “Is she the robot?”

I nearly choked on my own breath. Behind her, in the kitchen, I heard Elena burst out laughing as she poured coffee. “Thanks for that, Elena,” I muttered, though I couldn’t stop the grin from forming.

I knelt down on the floor, keeping a respectful distance. “I’m Alexia. I play football with your Zia.”

Lessi’s eyes went wide. She looked at her ball, then at me, then at the posters of the Barça team on Aurora’s wall. She pointed a tiny finger at me. “The Capitana? Tu sei la Capitana?”

“I am,” I said softly.

Without a word of warning, Lessi lunged forward, not for a hug, but to shove the ball into my lap. “Play! Adesso! You… me… calcio!”

“She doesn’t believe in introductions,” Elena said, leaning against the doorframe with two mugs of coffee. She looked at me with an amused, knowing smirk. “In Hawaii, we just jump into the waves. Lessi just jumps into the game.”

“I see that,” I laughed, catching the ball. I looked at Aurora, who was watching us with a look of pure, unadulterated happiness. The tension of the previous day, the fear of Jenni, the ‘Standard’—it all felt a million miles away.

“She’s been asking about you since she saw your picture on the fridge,” Aurora whispered, leaning her head against my shoulder.

Lessi was already tugging at my arm. “Come on, Capitana! Vieni! Big kick!”

For the next hour, the two-time Ballon d’Or winner was thoroughly defeated by a four-year-old in a hallway soccer match. Lessi shouted a mix of Italian and English, screaming “Goal!” every time the ball hit the baseboard, while Elena watched from the sidelines, occasionally shouting “Aggressive, Lessi! Take her ankles!”

It was chaotic. It was loud. It was the exact opposite of the structured, quiet life I had built for myself. And as I watched Aurora pick up her niece and spin her around, the flat echoing with their shared laughter, I realized that this was the ‘building’ Jenni had talked about.

I wasn’t just managing a contract anymore. I was part of a family.

“Hey,” Elena said, stepping beside me as we watched Aurora and Lessi head to the kitchen for breakfast. Her voice dropped, becoming the protective anchor I’d met last night. “You look like you’re finally breathing, Alexia.”

“I think I am,” I admitted.

“Good. Because we’re going to the beach today. Not for drama this time,” Elena added with a wink. “But because Lessi wants to show her ‘Auntie Ale’ how to actually handle a board. You ready to be the student for once?”

I looked at Aurora, who was currently trying to negotiate how many pieces of fruit Lessi had to eat before she could have a cookie. Aurora caught my eye and winked.

“I think I can handle being a student,” I said.

Aurora

The Mediterranean sun was warmer than the night before, casting a golden glow over the sand as Lessi sprinted toward the waterline, her tiny feet kicking up spray.

Elena followed her with that effortless, predator-like grace, a surfboard tucked under one arm while she kept a sharp eye on her daughter.

I was sitting on a towel, finally feeling the tension leave my shoulders, when Alexia stiffened beside me. She was wearing sunglasses, trying to stay low-key, but her “Capitana” radar was clearly pinging.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Alexia muttered, her head tilting toward the boardwalk.

I followed her gaze and let out a bark of laughter.

Walking across the sand, looking entirely too prepared for a beach day, were Mapi and Ingrid. Mapi was wearing a bucket hat and carrying a cooler like it was a trophy, while Ingrid walked beside her, shaking her head at whatever chaos Mapi was undoubtedly spewing.

“Slowly, I’m starting to feel like you’re stalking me,” Alexia called out as they approached, her voice a mix of amusement and genuine disbelief. “Did you hide a GPS tracker on me somewhere? Or is it on Aurora?”

Mapi stopped, dropping the cooler with a heavy thud and adjusting her sunglasses with a grin. “Please, Ale. You’re not that interesting. We just happen to have excellent taste in beaches. Besides, Ingrid wanted to see if the rumors of the ‘Italian invasion’ were true.”

Ingrid offered a warm, apologetic smile as she sat down near us. “She’s been pacing since breakfast. I think she has a sixth sense for when you’re actually having fun without her.”

“I am a woman of the people!” Mapi declared, then her eyes landed on Elena, who was just walking back from the water with Lessi. Mapi’s jaw practically hit the sand. “Wait… is that… the surfer? The Big Wave one?”

Elena wiped the salt from her eyes, her gaze flicking from Mapi to Alexia with that dry, amused expression. “The surfer has a name, you know. It’s Elena. And this little monster is Lessi.”

Lessi, seeing new people, didn’t hesitate for a second. She dropped her plastic shovel, marched right up to Mapi, and looked up at the bucket hat. “Il tuo cappello is weird,” she announced, her tiny hands on her hips.

Mapi blinked, looking down at the four-year-old. “Did she just call my hat weird? In two languages?”

“She did,” I said, pulling Lessi into my lap. “And she’s not wrong.”

“I like her,” Mapi decided, squatting down to Lessi’s level. “Listen, kid. I’m Mapi. I’m the one who makes sure your Zia doesn’t get too big-headed. Want to see what’s in the cooler? I have juice boxes and enough snacks to survive an apocalypse.”

Lessi’s eyes lit up. “Snacks? Adesso?”

“Yes, adesso,” Mapi laughed, already tearing into the cooler.

Alexia leaned back, her shoulder brushing mine. She looked at Mapi and Ingrid, then at Elena and Lessi, and finally at me. The fear of being “caught” seemed to have evaporated, replaced by the sheer absurdity of the moment.

I smiled, watching Elena and Ingrid strike up a conversation about the waves. For the first time, the “Barcelona world” and my “Home world” were bleeding into each other, and instead of a mess, it was making a masterpiece.

And tomorrow Alexia and I will finally tell our team.