None of it stopped me from feeling it.
His gaze followed me down the steps—hot on the back of my neck like fire.
And maybe—just maybe—he was smiling in the shadows as I walked away.
Because he liked the chase.
And the worst part was…
some part of me was starting to recognize the game.
THIRTY-THREE
ENRICO FERRARA
I got home with my head on fire.
The day had been an absolute disaster. Back-to-back crises, urgent decisions, calls I didn’t want to return—and hovering over all of it, like a cruel joke, the absurd reality that I was living under the same roof as a woman who made me want to slam a door or kiss her until I forgot how to breathe.
Sometimes in the same minute.
I took the stairs looking for silence.
The plan was simple: a whiskey, my office door shut, distance. Distance from her. Distance from the chaos she carried into every room she entered.
But plans had always been fragile where Valentina was concerned. And the universe seemed to enjoy sabotaging them with surgical precision.
The exact moment I reached the top of the stairs, she stepped out of her bedroom.
Wet hair. Dark strands dripping slowly over her shoulders. A white robe—soft, thin—tied at the waist with a ribbon knotted carelessly.
Too carelessly.
My entire body froze.
Just one second.
But it was enough.
My eyes took in far more than they had any right to.
Valentina noticed me immediately. Of course she did. She always did.
But instead of tightening the damn tie, instead of stepping back or pretending to be embarrassed, she stopped right there. In front of me. Chin lifted. Eyes steady. Her breathing just a little faster than it should have been.
It was deeply unsettling to realize how much that woman despised me—and yet felt no need whatsoever to hide how dangerously provocative she was being. No shame. No performance.
Valentina didn’t pretend.
“Do you really think you can walk around the house like that?” I asked.
My voice came out lower. Rougher than I intended.
She raised one eyebrow slowly, meeting my gaze with that silent challenge that threw me off balance far too easily.
“I wasn’t walking around the house. I was going from my room to my daughter’s. Quickly. And I didn’t even know you were lurking around.” A pause. Sharp. “And you—do you really think you get to ask me something like that?”
My jaw locked. My hands curled into fists at my sides.
