Fear mixed with anger flashes in her eyes before she pushes it down. "I'm not sure what you mean, Cesare. I've been nothing but honest with you."
I chuckle at that blatant lie. "Come now, we both know that's bullshit. I saw how you handled my children at dinner. How you navigated tonight's crowd. You're far more than the demure bride-to-be you pretend to be."
Vittoria's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. "And if I am?" she challenges, voice low. "What does it matter? I'm here, aren't I? Marrying you, fulfilling my role in this... arrangement."
I stand and move around the desk to lean against it directly in front of her. "It matters because I need to know exactly who I'm dealing with, Vittoria. In our world, secrets can be deadly."
She looks up at me, and for a moment I see a flash of that fire I've been sensing. "You want to know who I really am, Cesare? I'm a woman who's been raised her entire life for this moment. I know the game, the rules, the stakes. I'm not naive, and I'm certainly not stupid."
"And what, exactly, do you hope to gain from this arrangement?"
Vittoria stands slowly, bringing herself eye-level with me. "Survival," she says simply. "For myself, for my family. Isn't that what we're all after in the end?"
I study her face, searching for deception, but all I see is determination mixed with resignation.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Vittoria," I warn. "Be careful you don't get burned."
A small, bitter smile curves her lips. "I've been playing dangerous games my entire life, Cesare. This is just the latest round."
Something about her response, the way she says it, the pain hidden beneath her words, ignites something primal in me. Before I can stop myself, I lean in and capture her lips in a kiss that's all heat and possession.
Vittoria stiffens for a moment before responding, her lips soft yet demanding against mine. The kiss deepens, and I pull her closer, one hand tangling in her hair while the other grips her waist.
For a few heated moments, I lose myself in the taste and feel of her. A soft moan escapes her, velvety and perfect, and my cockthickens at the sound. She's got her hands fisted in my shirt, her small body pressed against mine.
Fuck, she feels amazing. Fits perfectly.
I've never had such an intense reaction to anyone. I grind against her stomach, loving the way she releases another moan. All I want is to bend her over my desk, pull up that emerald dress, and fuck her like I've never fucked anyone before.
Christ. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I force myself to pull away, breathing hard. I can't lose control like this. The Boston Elite Syndicate is trying to repair our reputation, not cause more chaos. Taking a rival's daughter's virginity before marriage isn't the way to go. Not until we're properly bound, at least.
Vittoria looks up at me, chest heaving as she catches her breath. Her lips are swollen from our kiss, cheeks flushed. She looks utterly ravishing, and it takes all my self-control not to pull her back into my arms.
I can see confusion and desire warring in her gaze.
"Leave," I growl, angry at myself for losing control, knowing if she doesn't leave right now, I might do something I'll regret. "Now."
She hesitates, like she's about to say something, but thinks better of it. Without a word, she turns and hurries out, closing the door quietly behind her.
I slump back against my desk, running a hand through my hair in frustration. This was not how I planned for this conversation to go.
Not at all.
I pour another scotch and down half of it in one gulp. Vittoria Costa is proving far more intriguing and dangerous than I anticipated. That kiss was electric, igniting passion I haven't felt in years.
But with that passion comes risk.
The next morning, I'm nursing coffee and a headache when Giovanni appears in my study doorway. Unlike last time, there's urgency in his expression.
"Father, we need to talk," he says, closing the door behind him.
"What is it now?" I ask, not in the mood for more family drama.
"It's about last night. The engagement party." He sits across from me, expression serious. "We have a problem."
My blood turns cold. "Explain."
