Chapter 24

When Dante woke with a faint sting of tears in his eyes, the plane had already landed. He sat blankly for a moment, disoriented, before hurriedly looking around. He vaguely remembered the announcement stating there was an hour left until arrival, tidying his space, and fastening his seatbelt. He knew Rhys would likely disembark first, so he had intended to follow immediately. He had only meant to close his eyes for a split second.

Yet here he was, just waking up.

Because catching brief naps to conserve energy had become second nature to him, he had accidentally passed out. Dante quickly unbuckled his seatbelt, stood, and checked Rhys’s seat. It was already neatly reset and entirely empty. A couple across the aisle was still dawdling, but the rest of the business-class passengers seemed to have disembarked ages ago. Peeking down the rear aisle past the drawn curtain revealed a similar ghost town. Damn it. They must have landed quite a while ago.

“Oh, you’re awake. Since it was so early and you looked exhausted, I didn’t want to disturb you. Welcome to Rome.”

The lead flight attendant spoke as she passed the galley. The red-haired woman, who looked a few years older than him, had been incredibly accommodating with his various requests throughout the flight. Dante cast one last glance at Rhys’s empty seat before offering her a polite grin. It was the least he could do for someone who had left him in peace out of pure consideration.

“I slept very well. Thank you.”

“Was your flight comfortable?”

“Yes, thanks to you. I appreciate your hard work on such a long flight.”

“Thank you for saying so,” she replied with a warm smile.

Dante nodded and pulled out his phone. Because he had foolishly forgotten to charge it, the battery icon was flashing below ten percent. Did I even pack a charger? Since he hated carrying bags, if it wasn’t in his small carry-on suitcase, it simply didn’t exist.

Disabling airplane mode, his international roaming connected automatically. A flurry of notifications warned him of terrifying data charges, followed by texts from acquaintances like Lazzaro, Lucy, and Kirk. Dante cleared them all out and immediately opened his chat with Rhys. No new messages. No missed calls, either.

“Have a wonderful day,” the attendant called out as Dante lifted his suitcase and hurried off the aircraft.

He practically sprinted through the jet bridge and stepped into the Rome airport, immediately noticing how different the air felt compared to New York. It carried a distinct scent—a bit dry, reminiscent of a dry cleaner’s, neither entirely refreshing nor unpleasant.

This was the first time Dante had ever set foot outside the United States.

Though born and raised in New York, a metropolis teeming with globetrotters, Dante had never possessed a shred of wanderlust. He preferred guarding his own turf. The sole reason a man like him had looked forward to this specific trip for an entire year was because it was supposed to be his first overseas voyage with Rhys.

Arriving alone at dawn in a foreign country, however, brought nothing but a profound sense of isolation. Since it was barely past four in the morning, the airport was eerily quiet. Walking through the vast, hollow corridors, Dante peered out into the darkness. It was 4:50 a.m., and the sun showed no signs of rising. Even though morning was technically approaching, it felt like the dead of night.

Immigration was a breeze. Far fewer people were traveling during this awkward, liminal hour than he had anticipated; the terminal was quiet enough that he could have counted the stray travelers on one hand. Having skipped checking any baggage, Dante walked out into the arrivals hall and glanced at the time again. Five in the morning. His battery was down to five percent. Well, he thought, at least it hasn’t died yet.

Finding a spot to sit, Dante unzipped his suitcase to double-check its contents. It held the bare essentials: two short-sleeved dress shirts he’d packed after hearing Rome was warmer than New York, a pair of sunglasses, spare jeans, underwear, and the complimentary travel kit from the flight. No charger. Maybe that’s for the best, he reasoned. Judging by the outlets he’d passed, the voltage here was different from back home anyway, meaning he would have had to buy an adapter. Wasn’t dealing with these minor hiccups supposed to be the charm of traveling?

Dante forced himself to stay positive, desperate not to let his mood plummet. Zip-fastening his suitcase, he reached toward the empty seat beside him for his phone, wondering if Rhys had finally reached out. He expected his fingers to close around the familiar, heavy device, but his palm met nothing but air. The cold texture of the synthetic leather seat sent a sudden jolt of dread down his spine.

No way… Did I just hit the jackpot?

Praying he was wrong, Dante slowly turned his head. Absolute defeat washed over him. The phone he had set down on his left just ten minutes prior was gone.

No, come on. It probably just slipped onto the floor. Denying reality, he sprang to his feet and peered beneath the bench. The floor was flawlessly clean, without so much as a speck of dust. Did I put it back in the suitcase? He tried to brainwash himself into believing it, tearing open his luggage once more. Nothing.

Damn it, I really hit the bad luck lottery!

The moment Dante had mentioned traveling to Italy, Lazzaro’s very first warning had been about pickpockets. He’d ranted about how it was a non-stop operation that even locals fell prey to. Dante distinctly recalled Lazzaro lecturing him that a careless bastard like him would get robbed the second he set foot in Europe if he didn’t keep his phone glued to his palm.

Because Lazzaro had hammered the point home every chance he got, the warning was practically engraved in Dante’s brain. He just hadn’t expected to be targeted at the crack of dawn in a nearly deserted terminal.

Refusing to accept his reality just yet, Dante spent the next five minutes pacing like a bloodhound, combing through the immediate area. He hadn’t felt a single soul near him. It was genuinely chilling—the absolute stealth of it. If you’re going to rob me, you could at least have the courtesy to let me know you’re there, he grumbled internally. Running a hand through his hair with a deep scowl, he finally conceded defeat.

Thieves really did work around the clock. He supposed a criminal had to be that diligent to make a living. Unfortunately, what was done was done.

With a heavy heart, Dante trudged to the restroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. The reflection staring back at him from the mirror looked visibly drained. The dark shadow of overnight stubble only worsened his appearance; he looked nothing like a tourist arriving at an exciting vacation spot.

Ah, I need to shave. Ever since he’d forgotten once and noticed Rhys frown during a kiss, Dante had never skipped a single day of shaving. He absolutely refused to leave tiny scratches on his partner’s delicate, beautiful face.

Staring at the faint shadow creeping along his jaw, he debated finding a razor, then remembered he had no clue where the very person he wanted to look good for actually was.

There’s no way he went to the hotel we reserved together, right? That would be a miracle, but given the cold shoulder Rhys had been giving him lately, the odds were practically zero.

Leaning heavily against the sink, Dante stared into his own eyes, silently questioning what on earth he was doing—stranded alone in a foreign airport with a stolen phone. The mirror offered no answers.

Swallowing a sigh, he ran his hands through his damp hair and dried off. Losing the photos on his phone stung, but thankfully, his stubborn refusal to embrace cutting-edge technology meant he hadn’t linked any credit cards to digital wallets. Score one for being old-school. Since his wallet and passport were safe, navigating the trip shouldn’t be impossible.

Wait. What was the name of the hotel again? The confirmation and address were both sitting in his inbox.

This was a disaster.

The more he thought about it, the worse it got. He desperately needed a translation app. Though he considered himself an honorary Italian, being born in the States meant his skills were limited to a vague listening comprehension. His speaking ability was practically nonexistent. His parents had always badgered him to learn the language properly, but since he’d grown distant from them during his teenage years, he had completely ignored their advice.

He could probably stumble through the city without a translator, but his entire itinerary and hotel reservations were trapped in his email. To make matters worse, Dante was the type of person who wrote his passwords down with a pen in a physical notebook at home. Even if he managed to buy a new phone, dealing with two-factor authentication hurdles just to access his email felt like an uphill battle.

A wave of exhaustion crashed over him all at once. It felt as if the universe was screaming at him to turn around and catch the next flight back to New York. Choosing an itinerary that landed at 4:10 a.m. had been an incredibly foolish move. There was no way to enjoy a vacation under this much fatigue. No wonder Rhys hadn’t praised his planning.

Dragging himself out of the restroom, he was greeted by a sky that was slowly beginning to brighten. Staring blankly at the dawn, he walked out of the terminal like a man under a spell and headed straight for the taxi stand. Climbing into the first cab in line, he asked the driver to take him to the Trevi Fountain.

The taxi pulled away from the airport, merging onto the highway for a thirty-minute drive. Rolling the window down a crack to catch the breeze, Dante took a deep breath of the unfamiliar Roman air. It was noticeably warmer than New York. Rhys, who caught chills easily, would have loved this climate. He would have adored the exotic landscapes stretching out around them and the historic buildings that looked as if they’d been plucked straight out of the Middle Ages.

The old Dante wouldn’t have cared much for views like this. But dating Rhys had expanded his horizons. From sitting through movie genres he never would have picked out himself, to traveling abroad, to appreciating the foreign scent on the wind and taking in a beautiful vista—he had learned to experience the world through Rhys.

It didn’t mean he was a completely different person, but he had evolved enough that whenever he laid eyes on something beautiful, his very first thought was of his partner. Dante loved Rhys enough that, for his sake, he would willingly step outside the comfort zone of his own territory.

By the time the dashboard clock neared six, the taxi entered central Rome, navigating a labyrinth of narrow, winding alleys. The sun hadn’t quite cleared the horizon yet, leaving a dim, twilight-blue haze draped over the cityscape like a curtain. Though pedestrians and cars were starting to trickle onto the streets, the atmosphere felt mythical. Dawn in Rome was every bit as quiet and breathtaking as Dante had envisioned.

The taxi let him off in a secluded alley where it seemed impossible a massive fountain could hide. Following the driver’s pointing gesture, Dante dragged his suitcase forward. The uneven cobblestones made the luggage wheels screech with every step, and before long, one of the front wheels snapped clean off. The cheap suitcase he’d bought for a few bucks from a New York souvenir shop hadn’t even survived a single day. Letting out a hollow laugh, Dante hoisted the broken bag by its handle.

After a few minutes of walking, the space suddenly opened up.

The Trevi Fountain stretched out before him, its shallow waters a clear, shimmering emerald. Beneath a grand sculpture of a sea god, cascading layers of stone cradled the basin as water rushed down their smooth curves. Dante froze, staring at the magnificent structure that had materialized like a mirage at the dead end of an ordinary alley.

Wow. It really is beautiful.