I loosened my tie slowly while walking toward the bedroom, exhaustion mixing badly with anticipation. Then I opened the door. And stopped breathing.
Chiara was asleep in my bed. The sight hit me so hard it physically hurt.
She lay tangled in dark sheets right in the center like she belonged there, blonde hair spilled across my pillows in soft waves now that the braid had completely fallen apart. One of my black shirts had ridden halfway up her thighs while she slept, exposing endless pale skin against the dark silk bedding. Christ.
The bedside lamp cast golden light across her body, softening every sharp edge in the room until nothing existed except her. Tiny. Warm. Mine.
One delicate hand rested beneath her cheek while the other curled loosely against her chest, the diamond on her finger flashing every time she shifted slightly in her sleep. She kept the fucking ring on.
Something possessive nearly snapped inside me at the sight. I closed the bedroom door quietly behind me, but the soft click still made her stir faintly. A sleepy little sound escaped her throat.
Fuck.
My entire body tightened. I’d had women in my bed before. Hundreds of them. Models. Socialites. Actresses. Mafia daughters desperate for attention.
None of them had ever affected me like this. None of them had ever looked this tempting simply breathing in my sheets.
I loosened my cuffs slowly, unable to stop staring at her. At the curve of her bare thighs. The soft shape of her lips. The pale gold hair spread across my pillow like spilled silk. My control was hanging by a thread now.
Because all I could think about was climbing into bed behind her, dragging her against my chest, and finally finding out if she tasted as sweet as she looked.
Chapter Ten: CHIARA
ThenightmarestartedwithMatteo screaming. Not loudly. That was what made it so much worse. It sounded choked. Suffocated. Like he was trying to be brave while someone hurt him.
I ran barefoot through endless dark hallways, my lungs burning while freezing marble sliced against the bottoms of my feet. The corridors twisted unnaturally around me, stretching longer every time I reached the end of one. Gold-framed paintings blurred past in the darkness while candlelight flickered weakly against black walls that seemed to close tighter and tighter around me with every step.
“Chiara!” Sienna’s voice cracked somewhere ahead. Panic exploded through my chest.
I tried to run faster, but the air thickened around me like wet cement, dragging against my skin, trapping me in place. My heartbeat thundered so violently it drowned everything else out except the sound of my little sister crying. Then I heard Papa.
Calm controlled and cruel, like he always was.
“You think your mistakes only punish you?” His voice echoed softly through the darkness. “Look what you’ve done to this family.”
A sharp crack split the air. Aurora cried out. My stomach twisted so hard it hurt. I reached the final hallway and shoved open the door. Matteo stood in front of Papa trembling violently, blood dripping slowly from his split lip onto white marble floors.
“No,” I whispered. Papa looked at me with cold disappointment.
“You left them,” he said quietly. “So now they suffer for it.”
I lunged forward… And woke up gasping.
My body jerked violently beneath silk sheets while panic clawed up my throat like nails. For one horrible second, I still smelled blood in the air. Still heard Matteo crying. My chest hurt so badly I thought I might actually be dying.
Then warmth tightened around me. Strong arms. A hard chest pressed against my back.
“Chiara.” Leo’s voice slid through the dark like velvet over broken glass. Reality crashed back slowly.
The penthouse. His bed. His arms around me.
Moonlight spilled silver through the massive windows, washing pale light across black silk sheets tangled around our bodies. My breathing came in short, uneven gasps while Leo held me tightly against him, one heavy arm wrapped possessively around my waist like he’d been keeping me there all night.
The realization should’ve terrified me. Instead, heat spread painfully through my chest. I could feel every inch of him behind me. Warm skin and hard muscle. The slow drag of his breathing against the back of my neck.
God. Even half asleep, Leo Moretti felt overwhelming. Any other woman would’ve melted beneath him.
Tall enough to make everyone else seem smaller without trying. Broad shoulders. Thick tattooed arms. A body carved from violence and expensive sin. Even now, tangled in dark sheets with sleep roughening his voice, he radiated something dangerous enough to make my pulse flutter helplessly.
