Chapter 2

2 Years Ago...

Riya’s POV

“Thank you,” I said to the taxi driver, who politely dropped me off at my destination. He gave me a genuine smile. Even though I was new to Italy, he didn’t charge extra or try to trick me.

“Welcome, have a great stay,” he said warmly.

I had a lovely apartment booked by me. The pictures and the place actually matched—though maybe they used a bit of color correction here and there. I chuckled. Two months ago, if someone had told me I’d be in Italy, I would’ve done my signature non-human laugh right in their face. But time changes everything—whether people believe it or not.

Let me give a proper introduction. I’m Riya, from Tamil Nadu, India. A typical South Indian girl. I’m 27 and not married off early, which is kind of a big deal. I’m the favorite child of my parents—being their only one, they shower all their love on me. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m not interested in getting married. I want to fall in love and marry that person. I prefer a love marriage, but I’m okay with an arranged one too.

And no, I never really wanted to be an “independent career woman.” I’ve always loved the idea of being a housewife. I’m a bookish, romantic girl. I got a few proposals back in school and college, but my focus then was completely on studies and building my career.

Now I’m settled. But there’s no one. I can’t do love marriage because I don’t know how to flirt. I can’t do arranged marriage because, well… my parents can’t flirt with other parents either. Haha… period. If someone were to just walk up and ask, “Will you marry me?” I’d eagerly say yes. But how is that even going to happen?

Now here I am, in Italy, for my project. I work as a software engineer. Maybe my love life isn’t going great, but I’m at the peak of my career. Our pharma project was a success and it expanded to Italy. I’m here for six months to help with the initial project setup. I don’t usually like to travel. But when I see my friends getting married and having kids, sometimes I feel like I’m falling behind. So… I came. Thought I’d compensate. Let’s see what life has in store for me.

Today was my first day at the office. Everyone seemed nice. It went smoothly—mostly introductions. It’s already evening and I’m back at my apartment. I want to decorate this little cozy space, even if I’m only staying here for a few months.

I called my parents—they’re good, but a little disappointed that they haven’t found a match for me yet. What can I do? I’m team chubby, so people reject me without a second thought. It’s not that I’m insecure—okay, I was. I still have a little insecurity, but I’m trying to overcome it. It’s not my fault. I’m pure, loyal, honest. I’ll love my partner like no one else will.

I don’t know who that lucky man will be, hehe. Anyway, I’m going shopping to make my room look like one of those Pinterest girly setups.

I walked through the streets—so many cute shops! I bought tons of things for decoration. This is my kind of therapy.

While walking back home, I saw a beautiful café and stepped inside to relax. It was cozy and charming… but I made one mistake—everyone there was a couple. Sigh. I like seeing cute couples, but imagine me, holding dozens of shopping bags, while he’s carrying his girlfriend’s tiny purse like it weighs a ton. I wish someone would carry my bags too. Thunderclap.

Suddenly, I heard the loudest thunderstorm of my life. It started raining like crazy. Everyone left in a rush. I was just sitting there in my own little depression bubble, not even realizing what was happening. It was raining cats and dogs. A storm in summer—how perfect.

The café owner was generous and let me stay inside. I don’t know when I’ll reach home. If my parents hear about this, they’ll kill me. Why do I always get stuck in situations like this? Ugh… anyway, I don’t care.

I wish to open a café like this one day. Maybe after retirement? Another thunderclap. The café owner went inside. Now I was the only one left, sitting there like a fool. And then—bam—the power went out. Could this day get any worse?

Just then, I heard the bell at the door. Someone walked in. Who comes at a time like this? I turned and saw only a silhouette. But yeah, I knew it was a man—because of the suit.

My mind went: “What if it’s a woman?”

And I replied to myself: “So what if it is?”

Basically, I started arguing with myself. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Am I going crazy?

While I was questioning my sanity, the man came closer. I couldn’t see his face at first. But then, lightning struck—and I saw him.

OMG. He looked like a Greek god. Sharp like the sun, calm like the moon, powerful like the storm. His features were so perfect it felt like God spent extra time creating him. His eyes—a deep ocean blue—I felt like sinking into them. In short, he looked like the wind god himself had come down to earth with the storm.

While I was shamelessly ogling, he looked straight into my eyes. His intense gaze made me look down… and then I saw it—his hands were covered in blood.

Shit, what happened to him?

I didn’t think much. I rushed to my shopping bag and pulled out a first aid kit I had bought for myself. I ran to him, held his hand, and looked into his eyes. Seeing no protest, I pulled him to my chair and made him sit. I started working quickly—cleaning the wound. It looked like it had been cut by a knife or something. I cleaned and dressed it.

Then I looked at him and said, “Please go to the hospital. It needs to be treated properly.”

He didn’t reply. He just kept staring at me.

I’m not that dumb—I know I shouldn’t just treat strangers. But he looked decent. Maybe he cut his hand on something in the dark. Right?

His gaze didn’t soften. It stayed intense, unwavering. Even in this cold weather, I was sweating like anything. Just then, his phone rang—finally breaking the moment. He answered the call. While leaving, he looked at me and said one word:

“Trovato.”

His voice was deep… like an ancient well. And then, the second thunder struck—louder than before.

Maybe… it was just the beginning

Trovato-Found

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