The walls I built are crumbling, and I’m not sure whether to rebuild them or let them fall completely.
I think back to the progression—our hostile first meeting after the club, the tense wedding, our dinner where we started to understand each other. Each moment has brought us closer, breaking down my resistance piece by piece.
And last night... last night was different. Not just lust or chemistry, but a deeper connection. The way he looked at me with pride when I won that hand. The possessiveness mixed with tenderness in his touch.
Maybe I’m not falling into his arms like some lovesick fool. Maybe I’m choosing to walk toward him, eyes open, knowing exactly what I’m doing.
I wrap the plush towel around my body, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. My reflection in the foggy mirror shows a woman changed—not broken, but transformed.
Steeling my resolve, I step out of the bathroom and into the opulent bedroom. I dress quickly, slipping into a flowy sundress that does little to conceal the marks Silvo left on my body. The dull ache between my thighs reminds me of last night with every step—not as a source of shame, but as evidence of passion freely given.
With a deep breath, I venture out of the bedroom and make my way downstairs. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon greets me as I enter the kitchen. Federico is there, looking far too chipper considering it’s before noon.
“Well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” he teases, flashing me that infuriatingly charming grin of his.
I open my mouth to retort, but the words catch in my throat as his gaze drops to my neck. His eyes linger on the purplish bruises marring my skin, and I feel a flush creep up my cheeks.
“Rough night?” he asks.
I bristle slightly, but more from embarrassment than anger. “It’s none of your business,” I say, wrapping my arms around myself.
Federico holds up his hands in surrender, though the mischievous glint remains in his eyes. “Hey, no judgment here. I’m glad to see you and my brother finally stopped circling each other like angry cats.”
I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. “We’re... figuring things out.”
“I can see that,” he says, glancing at my neck.
“I’m sorry for snapping,” I murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m just... this is all still new to me.”
Federico nods in understanding. “It’s okay, Carmela. I get it—this whole situation is intense.” He leans back against the counter. “But for what it’s worth, I think you’re handling it really well. And Silvo... I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”
I feel something soften in my chest at his words. “Really?”
“Really.” Federico’s expression turns more serious. “My brother doesn’t let people in easily. But you’ve gotten under his skin in the best way possible.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just nod, feeling touched by his honesty.
Federico chuckles, that rich, warm sound that’s quickly becoming familiar to me. “Although those love bites are a bit of a giveaway about how your night went.”
I self-consciously tug at the collar of my dress. “Shut up,” I mutter, though there’s no real heat behind my words.
“Good morning.”
Silvo’s deep voice cuts through the air, my heart stuttering in my chest. He strolls into the kitchen. My gaze is immediately drawn to the way his shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, the sleeves straining against the swell of his biceps.
Before I can respond, he’s closing the distance between us, his intoxicating scent of sandalwood and whiskey enveloping me. I suck in a sharp breath as his hand curves around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His lips brush my cheekbone in a lingering kiss, the rough scratch of his beard setting my skin ablaze.
“Sleep well?” he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly purr that sends a shiver down my spine.
I can only nod mutely, suddenly robbed of the ability to form coherent thoughts. My body melts into his solid frame as if it were made to fit against his.
Silvo’s dark gaze holds mine for a heated moment before he finally tears it away, shifting his attention to Federico. “You behaving yourself over there?” he asks, his tone light but laced with an underlying warning.
Federico shoots me a conspiratorial wink, as if he can sense the tumultuous effect his brother’s presence is having on me. “Always,” he quips easily. “Although your wife here was getting a bit defensive about those love bites.”
I can’t tear my gaze away from Silvo as he moves around the kitchen with that effortless grace of his. The way his muscles ripple beneath his shirt with every subtle movement is utterly mesmerizing, and I find myself shamelessly following the contours of his body.
“Eyes up here, baby,” Silvo rumbles, his lips curving into a smirk as he catches me staring.
