“I do,” he said with absolute certainty. “I’ll never stop admitting I was wrong. But now I know the truth, and I’ll never doubt it again.” His eyes held mine. “You’re the woman of my life, Valentina. You always were. You always will be. And even if you never give me the chance to be the man in yours again… I’ll still be grateful just to be allowed to live beside you.”
I lifted my eyes to his, my chest tightening painfully at the vulnerability in his face.
“I’m trying, Enrico. I swear I’m trying.” He nodded like he understood every hesitation, every fear. “You shouldn’t have followed me out here,” I added weakly, with no real strength to push him away.
He raised his hand, hesitated—then brushed the tips of his fingers over my cheek.
I shivered, involuntary, at how gentle it was.
“Are you running from me,” he murmured, “or from yourself?”
I swallowed hard, unable to answer.
My mind was chaos. My breathing got harder as his fingers traced my face and he leaned closer.
“Why do you keep running from what we both know we want?” he whispered, frustration thick in his voice, his face dangerously close again.
“Because it’s wrong,” I managed, weakly. “Because I—”
I didn’t finish.
Enrico closed his eyes, inhaled slowly, then looked at me again—like he was holding himself back with sheer force.
“All I want right now is to touch you. Kiss you,” he said quietly. “To show you that every word out of my mouth is true, and you’ll never have to be afraid of me hurting you again.”
My legs trembled. My heart beat like it was trying to break through my ribs.
I knew—perfectly—that I should push him away. That I should resist the sincerity in his voice.
But I couldn’t.
“Please…” I whispered, barely audible, as my resistance unraveled. “Don’t make this even harder…”
“It’s already hard enough, Valentina,” he said, voice rough, his gaze burning into mine. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop wanting you. Fuck the rules. I. Just. Want. You.”
Before I could deny him, before I could stop him again, his lips brushed mine—soft at first, painfully tender.
My mind went blank.
For one second, I forgot every reason this was wrong. I forgot the ballroom. I forgot Eloá. I forgot why we were here at all.
All that existed was Enrico—his mouth, his taste, the way he fit against me like a memory my body refused to release.
A low, involuntary moan left my lips as his strong hands locked around my waist and pulled me closer, sealing our bodies together in a perfect, terrifying match.
I knew it was madness. I knew it was a dangerous road—maybe irreversible.
But I couldn’t fight the connection. I couldn’t fight the urgency.
When we broke apart, Enrico inhaled hard, resting his forehead against mine, voice thick with emotion and desire.
“Let’s leave,” he whispered. “Now. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep pretending. I can’t keep being away from you.”
I took a deep breath, no strength left to resist what was coming.
I lifted my eyes to his and answered in a low, decisive voice, fully aware of what my words meant.
“Then get me out of here.”
