His hands tangle in my hair as he kisses me back with desperate intensity.
When his tongue sweeps against mine, I make a sound that’s part moan, part surrender.
“Fuck, Bianca,” he murmurs against my lips, his control finally snapping. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
“Show me,” I breathe, pressing closer until there’s no space left between us.
His hands slide down to my waist, then lower, lifting me easily.
My legs wrap around him as he presses me back against the wall, his mouth moving to my throat as he lavishes hot kisses there.
I gasp, my fingers threading through his silken hair and tugging gently.
He snarls against my throat, his erection pressing against my center.
When he finds that sensitive spot just below my ear, I arch against him with a gasp that makes him groan.
I grind against him, desperate for any type of friction.
“Even when you’re being reckless,” he says, his teeth grazing my skin. “Even when you’re making mistakes that could get us both killed—I still want you so fucking much it scares me.”
The confession sends heat straight through me, and I tug his head back up so I can kiss him again.
His tongue plunders my mouth as I moan into his, wanting to drown in him.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard, and there’s something wild in his eyes that matches the chaos in my chest.
“Then ask me what you really want to know, Bianca,” he says, his voice rough with desire and something darker. “Ask me directly.”
I study his face—the sharp angles, the way his eyes are dark, the heaviness in his breathing that speaks to barely controlled want.
“How do you know so much about Giuseppe and Sophia?” I ask quietly, my lips still tingling from his kiss. “How much do you know?”
14
ALESSANDRO
“HOW MUCH DO YOU KNOW?”
Bianca stands across from me, her lips still swollen from our kiss, her eyes bright.
But underneath the heat, I can see the yearning for the truth.
I could deflect.
Could give her partial truths, carefully edited versions of events that protect both her and me from the full weight of what really happened.
But after watching her nearly die tonight because of inexperience, after feeling the terror of almost losing her to her own recklessness, I realize that more lies will only make everything worse.
She deserves the truth. All of it.
“I know a lot,” I say simply. “About Giuseppe and Sophia and how Matteo was involved.”
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t look away. “Tell me.”
I move to the window, needing distance from her intensity while I figure out how to explain twenty years of family secrets.
The city spreads out below us, lights twinkling like stars, completely unaware of the violence that shapes the shadows between buildings.
