. . . AUTHOR’S POV The grand hall shimmered under the golden glow of the chandeliers, their light casting elongated shadows across the marble floors. A soft murmur of conversation and the occasional clink of glasses filled the space, yet beneath the grandeur and the carefully orchestrated celebration, a silent war was unfolding. Charles extended his hand toward Adeline with a grace that spoke of confidence, of certainty. His fingers, long and steady, stretched out toward her, a silent invitation. Adeline hesitated only for a fraction of a second before placing her delicate hand in his. The warmth of his palm met hers, firm and unwavering. The moment their fingers interlocked, a wave of tension rippled through the room—not from the guests, who continued clapping and cheering—but from the two figures who watched them with barely contained fury. Luciano stood just beyond them, his gaze a storm brewing on the horizon. His dark eyes locked onto Charles with an in
. . . ADELINE’S POV The night was quiet, save for the faint hum of distant traffic and the occasional rustling of leaves as the wind swept through the empty parking lot. The cold air nipped at Adeline’s skin as she reached for her car door, eager to leave behind the tension of the evening. But just as her fingers brushed against the handle, a firm hand wrapped around her wrist. Her breath hitched, her body stiffening as she was yanked around with startling force. Her heart lurched in her chest, and before she could even process what was happening, she found herself face to face with Luciano. His dark eyes locked onto hers, unreadable yet brimming with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. His grip on her wrist was strong—unyielding but careful, as if he was holding her in place without actually hurting her. Adeline inhaled sharply, her pulse quickening. “What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, yanking her arm back. Luciano didn’t let go.
. . . AUTHOR’S POV Luciano’s grip was like iron—unyielding, relentless. No matter how much Adeline struggled, twisted, or pushed against his chest, he did not falter. His arms, strong and sure, locked around her as he carried her through the cool night air. The wind whispered against her skin, but the heat of his body, the power in his stride, made her pulse race with frustration. She kicked her legs, tried to shove herself free, but it was useless. “Let me go!” she hissed, wriggling in his hold. Luciano didn’t even flinch. His face was carved from stone, his jaw tight with silent determination. His boots struck the ground with forceful precision, each step taking her farther from whatever chance she had of escape. The house they approached looked small but sturdy, the kind of place meant for solitude—secluded, tucked away from prying eyes. The wooden structure was illuminated by the faint glow of the moon, its large windows reflecting the night’s darkness.
. . . AUTHOR’S POV Adeline’s hands trembled as she scrolled through her phone, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The proof was there—staring back at her in the form of texts, images, call logs. Every single thing she had suspected, every single betrayal she had dreaded, was confirmed with cruel clarity. Her fingers shook so badly she almost dropped the phone, but she forced herself to hold on, forced herself to keep breathing. Her heart pounded as she turned the screen toward Luciano, her voice barely above a whisper. “See for yourself.” Luciano hesitated for only a second before taking the phone from her hands. His dark eyes scanned the evidence, his brows furrowing as he processed what he was seeing. The air in the room seemed to thicken, growing heavier with each passing second. His chest rose and fell slowly, deliberately, as if trying to contain the storm brewing inside him. Then, his fingers curled tightly around the edges of the phone, his
. . . AUTHOR’S POV Luciano’s lips were relentless, his kisses deep and consuming as he carried Adeline toward the bedroom. He moved slowly, deliberately, savoring every second their mouths were connected, as if afraid she would disappear if he let go. His hands held her securely against him, fingers pressing into her back, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her clothes. Adeline’s fingers tangled in his thick, dark hair, pulling him closer, matching his intensity. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath uneven as she surrendered to the fire between them. She felt weightless in his arms, but at the same time, she felt grounded—completely and utterly present in this moment, in his touch, in his kiss. The bedroom door nudged open as Luciano stepped inside, the soft flickering candlelight casting a golden glow over the space. The room was small, intimate, with a bed covered in dark sheets that looked impossibly inviting. A few candles
. . . AUTHOR’S POV Luciano’s lips trailed lower, his breath warm against Adeline’s skin as he took his time exploring her, savoring every reaction, every shiver that ran through her body. His hands, firm yet gentle, slid down her sides, his fingertips grazing her soft skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Adeline’s breathing hitched as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her thigh, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through her. Her fingers curled into the sheets, gripping them tightly as a soft whimper escaped her lips. Luciano’s dark eyes flicked up, watching her with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her. “You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice deep, laced with satisfaction. Adeline swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Luciano…” she whispered, her voice breathless, filled with anticipation. He hummed against her skin, the vibration making her arch slightly. His hands pressed down on her th
. . . AUTHOR’S POV The night was still, wrapped in the quiet hum of their steady breaths. The flickering candlelight cast soft shadows on the walls, painting their intertwined bodies in a golden glow. The sheets were tangled, barely covering them, and the air carried the lingering warmth of their passion. Yet, in this moment, it wasn’t hunger or desperation that filled Luciano’s chest—it was something far deeper, something heavier. Adeline laid curled up, her bare back facing him, the duvet draped loosely around her waist, leaving the smooth expanse of her spine exposed to his gaze. She looked fragile like this, peaceful yet untouchably distant, her breath slow and steady, her body barely moving except for the slight rise and fall of her shoulders. Luciano propped himself up on one elbow, his dark eyes drinking in every detail—the way her hair spilled over the pillow, a few strands brushing against her cheek, the curve of her shoulder, the delicate dip of her lowe
. . . AUTHOR’S POV The golden morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows across the bedroom. The air was thick with the remnants of last night—the faint scent of him lingering on the sheets, the warmth still trapped in the bed. Adeline sat there, her legs tucked under her, the fabric of his oversized shirt draping loosely over her petite frame. It was far too big for her, the sleeves slipping past her wrists, the collar falling slightly off one shoulder, exposing a hint of bare skin. She let out a soft yawn, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, still groggy from sleep. The bed beneath her was messy, the pillows indented from where they had laid, the blankets bunched up from their restless movements during the night. Her body ached in the best way possible, reminding her of everything that had transpired between them just hours ago. The sound of the bedroom door creaking open made her freeze. Luciano stepped inside, his t
. . . AUTHOR’S POV Adeline stepped inside the penthouse, the familiar scent of expensive leather and fine whiskey lingering in the air. The space was dimly lit, its modern, luxurious interior bathed in golden hues from the chandelier hanging above. Despite its elegance, there was something about this place that always felt cold, as if warmth never truly belonged here. She had barely taken a step forward when a blur of movement rushed toward her. “Adeline!” Before she could react, strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Vladimir. His grip was firm, his breathing heavy as if he had been waiting for this moment for far too long. Adeline sighed softly, allowing herself to relax for a brief second. Despite everything—the bloodshed, the betrayal, the never-ending war—he was still her brother whom she needed to protect at any cost. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded, his voice rough with concern, pulling back just enough to
. . . AUTHOR’S POV Luciano’s lips crashed against Adeline’s with raw hunger, his grip firm as he pulled her against him, molding her body to his. He kissed her like a man who had been starving for too long, like a man desperate to consume her, to remind her exactly who she belonged to. She melted into him, her fingers threading through his thick, dark hair, gripping it tightly as she kissed him back with everything she had. Her body was on fire, every nerve alive, every part of her attuned to him, to the way his hands roamed over her, mapping every inch of her skin like he was committing her to memory. Luciano growled low in his throat, shifting suddenly. Before she could even process what was happening, he grabbed her waist and lifted her onto his lap as if she weighed nothing, as if she were made of air. A soft gasp left her lips, her knees sinking into the plush mattress on either side of his thighs. She could feel his heat, his strength, the solid wall
. . . AUTHOR’S POV Adeline stirred, warmth cocooning her as she slowly blinked awake. The soft sheets clung to her bare skin, the lingering scent of him still embedded in them, wrapping around her like a second embrace. She exhaled quietly, stretching slightly before her gaze drifted toward the figure standing by the dresser. Luciano. He had just stepped out of the shower, his damp hair slicked back, water droplets clinging to the sharp angles of his face. Even freshly showered, he carried an edge of danger, his presence filling the room with something dark and possessive. He was already dressed—black tailored slacks, a crisp white button-down, the top two buttons left undone, exposing the hint of a tanned, sculpted chest. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing strong, veined hands as he adjusted the expensive watch on his wrist. Adeline watched him, too entranced to look away. The way he moved—slow, controlled, precise—made her stomach tigh
. . . AUTHOR’S POV The night was quiet, the only sound in the dimly lit bedroom was the slow, steady rhythm of Adeline’s breathing. She laid nestled in his arms, her soft body curled into him, utterly spent. Her head rested against his chest, her delicate fingers clutching at his skin even in sleep, as if she knew he was the only thing keeping her safe. Luciano held her close, his large hand splayed over the bare curve of her back, fingertips tracing slow, idle patterns against her skin. She was warm, his, and so completely unaware of the darkness lurking outside this bed. And that’s how he wanted it. His other hand rested on his phone, his sharp eyes scanning the PDF Christian had sent him. It was a detailed report on Charles—his movements, his associates, his recent business dealings. Every new paragraph made Luciano’s expression darken, his brows furrowing in cold calculation. He had expected Charles to make a move eventually, but what unsettled him
. . . AUTHOR’S POV Adeline’s entire body trembled as Luciano’s hands traced over her bare skin, his touch sending waves of fire through her veins. She wasn’t sure when or how she had ended up laid out on the kitchen counter, but at this point, she couldn’t bring herself to care. Her mind was hazy, her breath coming in uneven gasps as he teased her, his fingers barely skimming the sensitive skin of her thigh before retreating, leaving her desperate for more. Then, his lips followed. Soft at first, a mere whisper of warmth against her skin, but then his tongue flicked out, dragging in a slow, deliberate motion that had her arching involuntarily. The unexpected sensation tore a moan from her lips—loud, shameless. Her own voice startled her. Adeline’s eyes widened in horror as the sound echoed in the quiet space, her pulse hammering against her ribs. She slapped a hand over her mouth, cheeks burning as if she could somehow take it back. But it was too late.
. . . AUTHOR’S POV The golden morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows across the bedroom. The air was thick with the remnants of last night—the faint scent of him lingering on the sheets, the warmth still trapped in the bed. Adeline sat there, her legs tucked under her, the fabric of his oversized shirt draping loosely over her petite frame. It was far too big for her, the sleeves slipping past her wrists, the collar falling slightly off one shoulder, exposing a hint of bare skin. She let out a soft yawn, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, still groggy from sleep. The bed beneath her was messy, the pillows indented from where they had laid, the blankets bunched up from their restless movements during the night. Her body ached in the best way possible, reminding her of everything that had transpired between them just hours ago. The sound of the bedroom door creaking open made her freeze. Luciano stepped inside, his t
. . . AUTHOR’S POV The night was still, wrapped in the quiet hum of their steady breaths. The flickering candlelight cast soft shadows on the walls, painting their intertwined bodies in a golden glow. The sheets were tangled, barely covering them, and the air carried the lingering warmth of their passion. Yet, in this moment, it wasn’t hunger or desperation that filled Luciano’s chest—it was something far deeper, something heavier. Adeline laid curled up, her bare back facing him, the duvet draped loosely around her waist, leaving the smooth expanse of her spine exposed to his gaze. She looked fragile like this, peaceful yet untouchably distant, her breath slow and steady, her body barely moving except for the slight rise and fall of her shoulders. Luciano propped himself up on one elbow, his dark eyes drinking in every detail—the way her hair spilled over the pillow, a few strands brushing against her cheek, the curve of her shoulder, the delicate dip of her lowe
. . . AUTHOR’S POV Luciano’s lips trailed lower, his breath warm against Adeline’s skin as he took his time exploring her, savoring every reaction, every shiver that ran through her body. His hands, firm yet gentle, slid down her sides, his fingertips grazing her soft skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Adeline’s breathing hitched as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her thigh, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through her. Her fingers curled into the sheets, gripping them tightly as a soft whimper escaped her lips. Luciano’s dark eyes flicked up, watching her with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her. “You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice deep, laced with satisfaction. Adeline swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Luciano…” she whispered, her voice breathless, filled with anticipation. He hummed against her skin, the vibration making her arch slightly. His hands pressed down on her th
. . . AUTHOR’S POV Luciano’s lips were relentless, his kisses deep and consuming as he carried Adeline toward the bedroom. He moved slowly, deliberately, savoring every second their mouths were connected, as if afraid she would disappear if he let go. His hands held her securely against him, fingers pressing into her back, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her clothes. Adeline’s fingers tangled in his thick, dark hair, pulling him closer, matching his intensity. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath uneven as she surrendered to the fire between them. She felt weightless in his arms, but at the same time, she felt grounded—completely and utterly present in this moment, in his touch, in his kiss. The bedroom door nudged open as Luciano stepped inside, the soft flickering candlelight casting a golden glow over the space. The room was small, intimate, with a bed covered in dark sheets that looked impossibly inviting. A few candles