“And Elena…”
“Yes?” I whisper.
His eyes run over the towel, the bare skin of my collarbone, my legs—
“Never open the door like that again.” His jaw flexes. “No one else is allowed to see what is mine.”
Then he’s gone. And I’m left trembling against the door, heart pounding, lips tingling, this new, terrifying warmth spreading through every inch of me.
Because Alessandro Moretti just kissed me like he wanted to devour me—and for the first time in my life, I think I want to be devoured.
Lunch comes without Alessandro. I wait for him—longer than I should—before finally forcing myself to eat. The house is too quiet. Too big.
I wander through the living room afterward and find a book tucked neatly on a shelf.
I curl up on the end of the couch, losing myself in the pages, letting the soft hush of the house soothe the leftover pulse of the kiss he gave me.
I’m halfway through a chapter when a loud commotion startles me upright.
Raised voices. Footsteps. A sharp thud. My heart leaps. Is something wrong? Is someone here?
I set the book down and follow the noise toward the front of the house.
When I reach the foyer, I freeze.
A beautiful woman with long brown hair and a tiny frame is shoving one of Alessandro’s men back with surprising strength.
“Get out of my way, idiot!” she yells. “I can come into this house whenever I want!”
The man looks terrified—and probably for good reason.
Because standing behind the woman is a massive man with broad shoulders, tattoos peeking from under his collar, and a mean scar carving down the side of his cheek.
He’s glaring at Alessandro’s guard like he’s two seconds away from tearing his throat out.
I recognize the woman instantly. She was at the wedding. Laughing loudly. Dancing with the Don’s wife.
Gianna Moretti.
Dante’s sister. Alessandro’s cousin. Before I can say a word, the woman spins and spots me. Her expression softens instantly.
“Oh!” she beams.
I blink, unsure what to do, but she strides forward as if we’re already friends.
Behind her, Alessandro appears, storming into the room like a force of nature.
“Gia!” he snaps. “You can’t just barge into my house. You knock.”
She bursts out laughing.
“Your goons wouldn’t let me in!”
“That’s their job,” Alessandro bites out.
“Well, they’re terrible at it,” she replies sweetly.
The large man—her guard, clearly—just stands beside her silently, eyes tracking every movement in the room like a predator.
