I should have pulled back.“Then stop.”
“You know I can’t.”
His hand slid to the nape of my neck, fingers curling there.Not hard—just enough to remind me who he was.The world narrowed to the space between us, the steady pulse beneath my skin.
“I don’t want to be afraid of you.”
“Then don’t be.”
He bent his head.His lips brushed my temple first—barely a kiss.A tremor shivered through me, half fear, half wanting.
“Enrico,” I whispered, meaning to protest, but his name came out like a prayer.
His mouth found mine before I could say more.The kiss was desperate.Every motion carried the weight of our contradictions—his control, my defiance, the inevitability pulling us together.When I gasped, he drew back just enough for air.
“You still could leave,” he said roughly.“You could walk out that door.”
“And if I did?”
His answer was a low hum that vibrated against my throat.“I’d follow.”
Something inside me broke open.My hands rose, curling in his shirt.The fabric was warm from his body, smooth beneath my palms.He was all edges and restraint, and yet the tremor that ran through him betrayed more than he’d ever say aloud.
“Why do you fight it?”he murmured.
“Because I don’t want to disappear into you.”
He stilled.For a long moment he didn’t speak, didn’t move, only stared at me with that unreadable expression.
“You won’t disappear.”
His mouth met mine again, slower this time, deliberately, as though memorizing the shape of surrender.The kiss deepened until the world tilted and the only truth left was the sound of our breathing and the steady pound of my heart against his chest.
When he drew back, his forehead rested against mine.“You don’t understand what you’ve done to me.”
“Then tell me.”
His laugh was low and broken.“You made me feel loved.For a long time, the empire has been the only thing that I focused on.Then you walked into the room that day, and suddenly, the only thing I thought more about than work was you.That’s how I knew you were the right woman for me.That you were meant to stand beside me, not behind me.”
The words were so raw they frightened me more than any threat could.I touched his cheek, the roughness of stubble, the heat beneath his skin.He leaned into my hand for the smallest moment, eyes closing as if the gesture cost him something.
“Don’t ever use that against me.”
“I wouldn’t.”
He stepped back then, reclaiming the space between us, rebuilding the walls that cracked.“Go with Catrina today.Spend some money.Repair what I broke.She has always talked about you in high regard, M.She only did what I asked.”
He turned toward the window again.
“Do you ever regret what you’ve built?”
He didn’t glance back.“Every empire is born from something broken.”
I took a step closer.“You could change it.”
He glanced over his shoulder, eyes softening.“Maybe you already are.”
The silence that followed was fragile.I could have left then.Should have.But my feet refused to move.
