“Valentina…” I still heard him say—low, unfinished—but I didn’t stop.
My heart hammered as I moved down the dark hallway, escaping the dangerous temptation his presence had become.
Only when I closed my bedroom door behind me did I realize—shocked and unsettled—how accustomed I’d already become to him in my daily routine.
As if, quietly and without my permission, Enrico had started filling the empty spaces of my life again.
My God.
I had laughed with him.
How dare I?
Idiot. A thousand times, idiot.
And that realization terrified me more than anything else.
Because the last thing I wanted was to feel comfortable with Enrico again after everything.
After all the things he had made me feel.
And after all the things he had taken.
FORTY-SIX
ENRICO FERRARA
I couldn’t remember the last time—before my life turned upside down—that I’d experienced an afternoon as quiet as this one.
Clara was at ballet class, and the moment I was living felt like something pulled from an old film or a forgotten novel, where golden sunlight slipped lazily through every room, bathing the house in a warm, almost unreal glow.
I was in the living room, half-focused on documents André had sent me for review, when a soft sound from the kitchen caught my attention.
I looked up.
And there she was.
Valentina stood at the counter, visible through the half-open door, her back to me. Her hair was loose, cascading down her shoulders in soft waves as she prepared something on the counter.
Without realizing what I was doing, I set the papers aside and watched her.
Every movement she made felt fluid, unhurried—hypnotic. The way she tilted her head slightly, brushing a stubborn lock of hair away from her face with delicate fingers, made my heart accelerate in a way that had no logic, no permission.
Then she turned.
Sunlight hit her face fully, illuminating her delicate features in a golden glow that stole my breath. My gaze dropped immediately to her lips, slightly parted as she murmured something to herself, unaware of my attention.
Desire hit me hard.
Violently.
Unexpected.
Unwelcome—and completely uncontrollable.
I hadn’t planned it. I hadn’t invited it. And yet there it was, dragging me under simply because she existed in that space, in that quiet, ordinary moment—so simple, and yet unbearably seductive.
She reached up to a high shelf, and her light dress shifted, revealing a small stretch of smooth, sun-warmed skin along her back.
