"If I find out you had a man in your life when we arranged this marriage," I growl, pulling her even closer until our bodies press together, "now is the right timing to say it."
The crystal chandelier light catches in her hair as she tilts her head, studying me with calculated interest. Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip—a gesture that draws my gaze like a magnet.
"And if I say that I had," she challenges, her voice steady despite our proximity, "what would you do?"
I stare into Zoe's eyes.
"I would make him disappear," I say, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that only she can hear. The words aren't empty—they're a fucking promise. "No body. No trace. Just gone."
The crowd around us fades away. In this moment, there's only her defiance and my rising fury. The thought of another man touching her makes my blood boil.
"Anyone who touches what's mine doesn't get to live with that mistake."
Her pupils dilate, whether from fear or something darker, I can't tell. Her breath catches, the slight hitch audible even amid the orchestra and surrounding chatter.
I reach up, my calloused fingers capturing her face. My thumb brushes across her cheekbone, a gesture that's both tender and controlling. I tilt her chin up, forcing her to maintain eye contact.
"You think you can play with fire?" I ask, my voice rough with restraint. "Let me show you how badly you can get burned."
Before she can respond, I close the distance betweenus. My mouth claims hers, hard and demanding. The kiss isn't gentle—it's a brand, a warning, a fucking claim.
For a heartbeat, she freezes beneath my touch, her lips unmoving against mine. Then something changes. A small gasp escapes her, and suddenly she's kissing me back with equal intensity, her fingers gripping my lapels.
The taste of her floods my senses, drowning out everything else. Her lips are softer than I imagined, yielding yet demanding in their own right. Heat spreads through my body, pooling low in my stomach as I deepen the kiss.
His mouth captures mine, hard and demanding, and everything inside me screams to pull away. This is Damiano Feretti. The man I'm supposed to destroy.
But I don't pull away.
My body betrays me, responding to him with an intensity that steals my breath. His lips move against mine, and heat rushes through me, pooling low in my belly. I taste whiskey on his tongue as it brushes against mine. My fingers grip his lapels, not to push him away but to steady myself against the wave of sensation washing over me.
Ishouldn't be enjoying this.
My mind races even as my body melts against him. His hand slides to my lower back, pulling me closer until I feel the hard planes of his chest against me. The chandelier light spins overhead as my eyes flutter closed.
Maybe I can use this. Get closer to him. Lower his defenses.
Yes, that's it. This is tactical. Another way to infiltrate his life, his mind. If I can make him want me—truly want me—he'll be vulnerable. He'll share his secrets, let me into the inner workings of his empire.
His teeth graze my lower lip, and I can't help the small sound that escapes me. His grip tightens possessively at the noise.
This doesn't mean anything. It's just physical.
I pull back slightly, needing air, needing distance, needing to think clearly. His dark eyes lock with mine, pupils dilated with desire. The raw heat I see there makes my stomach tighten.
"That was convincing," I whisper, trying to regain control of the situation—of myself. My voice comes out breathier than I intended.
His thumb traces my lower lip, still damp from his kiss. "That wasn't for them,lupacchiotta."
I pull away from Damiano's touch, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"I need to refresh my makeup," I manage to say, surprised at how steady my voice sounds when everything inside me is chaos.
He studies me for a moment, his eyes unreadable, before giving a slight nod. I turn and walk toward the bathroom, feeling his gaze burning into my back with every step.
The bathroom is mercifully empty when I enter. Igrip the marble countertop, staring at my reflection in the gold-framed mirror. My lips are slightly swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. I barely recognize myself.
Get it together.
