Fuck.
Valentina, what are you doing to me, woman?
CHAPTER NINE
Valentina
Ifollow Rosa through a wing of the estate I haven't seen yet. She's been showing me around the property, and I'm still trying to memorize which marble corridor leads where. My slides are silent on polished floors.
We round a corner and the air changes. Warm, humid, scented with chlorine. Through a set of double doors, I see a massive pool.
"I didn't know there was an indoor pool here." The words slip out before I can stop them.
Rosa's lips curve faintly. "Oh yes. Mr. Vitale usually swims after his workouts."
I get closer to take a better look, and there he is.
Salvatore moves through the water with long, powerful strokes, cutting through it like it exists solely to part for him. His shoulders break the surface as he turns, water streaming down his skin in rivulets that trace lines my eyes shouldn't follow.
I stop breathing.
He's shirtless, wearing nothing but black swim trunks that sit low on his hips, clinging where they shouldn't. Tattoos stretch across his back and down his arms.
Each movement is controlled, efficient, and beautiful in a way that feels unreal.
I'm staring. But, I can't stop.
Rosa notices.
"I need to run and grab something," she says calmly. "Would you like to wait here, or in the main family room?"
My mouth opens. Nothing comes out.
"Sure," I manage.
She nods once and disappears down the hall, leaving me alone with the echo of splashing water and the hypnotic rise and fall of muscle that has no business doing this to my pulse.
My gaze follows the precision of him, the smooth economy of each stroke, the steady control in his breathing, the effortless authority in the way he commands the water instead of fighting it.
"Take a picture. It'll last longer."
I nearly jump out of my skin.
I whirl around to find a man leaning against one of the columns, arms crossed, mouth curved in an amused smirk. Dark hair. Eyes like Salvatore.
Much too comfortable and smug to be a guard, he must be one of the brothers.
"I wasn't staring."
"Sure." His grin is all-knowing arrogance. "Matteo. The brother who handles the money." He extends a hand, which I don't take. "And you must be the reason Salvatore's been impossible to work with lately."
Salvatore reaches the wall, grips the edge, and pulls himself up in one fluid motion.
Water pours off him, and stomach flips.
Then he climbs out of the pool, water dripping from his body as he reaches for a towel. I quickly move away from the door like I just got caught doing something I wasn't supposed to, so he doesn't see me.
Matteo looks through the glass and chuckles.
