My lips felt swollen. My skin was hot. Between my legs, I was achingly wet, my body screaming for the release he'd been about to give me before we'd been interrupted.
This was bad. Really, really bad.
Because I'd just proven to both of us that I had absolutely zero self-control when it came to Kai Accardi.
And that was going to get us both killed.
Chapter Eight
KAI
People talked about stalking like it is some kind of crime. Like paying close attention to someone, learning their habits, positioning yourself strategically in their orbit was inherently wrong.
Complete bullshit.
Life is a game—a strategic, calculated game where the winners are the ones who paid attention, who noticed patterns, who made deliberate moves. The people who succeeded weren't the passive observers sitting on the sidelines. They were the players who actively pursued what they wanted with precision and purpose.
And I wanted Aria Romano.
Not in the sick, possessive way my father wanted her—as property to be owned, as a transaction to be completed. I wanted her in a way that both terrified and compelled me. In a way that made me question every ruthless instinct I'd honed over twenty-six years.
So yeah, over the next week, I made it my mission to be everywhere she was.
It wasn't stalking. It was strategic positioning. Intelligence gathering. Making sure the girl who'd somehow wormed her way under my skin was constantly aware of my presence.
Breakfast with Lia became my new routine. I'd walk into the dining room and watch Aria's entire body tense. Her fork would pause mid-air. Her shoulders would straighten. She'd become hyperaware of every movement, every breath.
"Since when do you eat breakfast with us?" Lia asked on the third morning, her sharp eyes darting between Aria and me. "You usually grab coffee and disappear into your office for twelve hours."
"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf. Being more social."
"You're being weird is what you're being." Lia bit into her toast, studying me. "This wouldn't have anything to do with Aria, would it?"
Aria's face flushed that perfect shade of pink that I was becoming dangerously addicted to.
"I'm just making sure our guest feels welcomed. Isn't that what you wanted?" I took a slow sip of coffee, my eyes never leaving Aria. "For me to be more... attentive?"
Lia rolled her eyes but I saw the small smile. She knew exactly what I was doing. And she approved, even if it was reckless as hell.
The garden became my second favorite hunting ground. Aria spent hours there with her books, seeking peace in a situation that offered none. I'd manufacture reasons to be nearby—checking the perimeter, taking business calls, reviewing security camera footage on my phone.
Always close enough that she'd feel me there.
She'd tense every single time. Her reading would slow to a crawl. She'd have to reread the same paragraph four or five times because she couldn't concentrate with me hovering.
Perfect. I wanted to consume her thoughts the way she'd consumed mine.
Mrs. Rossi's Italian lessons provided another opportunity. I'd walk past the sitting room where they worked, deliberately slowing my pace. Let my gaze linger on Aria as she stumbled through verb conjugations, her accent adorable when she got flustered.
Which was every single time she noticed me watching.
"Your pronunciation is improving considerably," I'dcomment in perfect Italian, leaning against the doorframe like I had all the time in the world.
Aria would flush that gorgeous pink, lose her place completely, and have to start over.
Mrs. Rossi would shoot me looks that clearly said stop tormenting the poor girl, but she never actually told me to leave.
Was I being fair? Absolutely not.
