Chapter 56 - Even If The World Burns

The soft glow of the chandelier dulled as Talana slipped quietly away from the balcony. The echo of Chiara’s voice still scratched at her ears like broken glass, her parting words a venom that refused to leave her veins.

She didn’t return to the ballroom. Instead, she wandered through the halls of the Sanchiano estate, heels in hand, silk dress brushing against polished floors as her chest ached with emotion. She found herself in the old reading room—m, dimly lit, still, and lined with the scent of history and leather-bound secrets.

Roberto Sanchiano was already there.

He sat in a deep armchair, a glass of amaro in one hand, his sharp eyes catching her the moment she entered. He didn’t speak at first. Just observed her, the furrow in her brow, the tremble she tried to hide.

“You remind me so much of your mother,” he said quietly, setting the glass aside. “Especially when you’re furious.”

Talana tried to laugh, but it came out as a bitter breath. “She wouldn’t have stood there and let Chiara humiliate her.”

“No,” he agreed. “She would’ve burned the place down with a smile on her face.”

Talana slowly moved to sit across from him, tucking her legs beneath her. “Am I wrong for feeling betrayed?”

Roberto leaned forward. “You’re not wrong for feeling, Talana. But feelings lie. And pain, especially pain seeded by someone like Chiara Bellini, is a weapon. She knows exactly how to use it.”

“She touched him. She humiliated me.”

“Massimo isn’t perfect,” Roberto said. “But that man would rip out his own heart before he let anyone else have it if it belonged to you.”

She looked down, silent.

“He’s proud, yes. But you’ve softened him in ways none of us expected. He’s yours, ragazza. Even when he doesn’t know how to show it in the moment.”

Talana swallowed the lump in her throat. “Why do I still feel like I’m losing him?”

“Because you love him,” Roberto said, standing. “And love always feels like a battle when there’s history in the way. But you’re not fighting alone. Just don’t let someone else’s poison make you question what you already own.”

His words hit their mark, as they always did. Talana stood too, and he kissed her forehead gently. “Now go to him before you let your pride ruin something sacred.”

She hesitated only a moment before leaving the room.

Massimo was already in the villa’s west wing, pacing outside the room he’d been given, jacket gone, shirt undone at the throat, jaw clenched with fury and regret.

When Talana turned the corner, he stilled. The moment hung, suspended in the corridor between them.

“I don’t want to fight,” she whispered.

He closed the distance in three strides, hands cupping her face as he kissed her, hard, hungry, desperate. She melted into him, nails digging into his back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low against her lips. “For letting her touch me. For not ending it the second she opened her mouth. I was wrong.”

“You let her get to me,” she whispered.

“I won’t ever let it happen again.”

He scooped her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as if she weighed nothing. “I’m done playing diplomat. You’re my woman, angel. My Dona. And I’ll make sure you never forget it again.”

He carried her into the room, shutting the door with his foot.

The room was dim, the bed king-sized, the window open to the sound of distant waves. He laid her gently on the edge of the bed before kneeling in front of her, undoing the straps of her heels with reverent fingers.

“You were right to be angry,” he murmured as he kissed her ankle, “but tonight, I need to remind you of what’s mine.”

He stood and pulled her to her feet, sliding the zipper of her gown down slowly, letting it fall in a whisper of silk around her feet.

His lips trailed over her collarbone, down her chest, until she was trembling. “No more ghosts,” he said. “No more questions.”

He undressed slowly, deliberately, until they were skin to skin, breath to breath. He laid her back, parting her thighs with his knee, hovering just above her as he looked into her eyes.

“I don’t want soft tonight,” he whispered. “I want fire. I want you to burn for me.”

“And if I already am?” she challenged.

“Then I’ll burn with you.”

It started slow, almost reverent as Massimo's hand slid up the inside of her thigh, slow and deliberate, his eyes locked on hers. “You don’t know what you do to me, do you?” he murmured.

Talana swallowed hard, her breath catching as his fingers barely skimmed over the slick heat between her legs. “Maybe I do,” she whispered. “Maybe I want to see you come undone.”

A rough sound tore from his throat. “Careful,” he said, leaning down to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Say that again and I won’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want gentle,” she breathed. “I want you.”

He gripped her wrists and pinned them above her head, grinding against her slowly. “You want me?” His voice was low and dangerous. “Then you take all of me. Even the part that loses control with you.”

Her hips arched toward him, but he moved away just enough to make her whimper.

“Massimo…”

“Patience, bella mia.”

He took his time, kissing down her neck, sucking at the hollow of her throat until she trembled. His teeth grazed her skin. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she gasped, her voice shaking. “Always.”

His lips brushed her ear. “Then let me worship you.”

He slid down, his mouth finding her breast. He bit, gently, then soothed it with his tongue, watching her face twist in pleasure.

“You like when I do that?” he asked.

She nodded, breathless. “Yes… I—God, yes.”

“I haven’t even started,” he muttered, moving lower.

His tongue found her, slow and precise, teasing her folds until she was gripping the sheets and moaning his name. “Massimo—please—don’t stop—”

He growled against her. “You taste like sin,” he whispered. “And I want every fucking drop.”

She came with a cry, shuddering, and he kissed his way back up, licking her arousal from his lips as if it was the only thing that could quench him.

“You’re shaking,” he said softly.

“You’ve ruined me,” she whispered back.

“Good.” He smiled darkly. “Because you’ve already broken me.”

And then he entered her, deep, slow, deliberate.

Their moans tangled. She clung to him, nails digging into his back.

“Massimo…” Her voice cracked. “You feel—”

“Like I was made to be inside you?” he breathed. “Because I was. You’re everything I’ve never deserved.”

Their movements grew frenzied, rhythm tightening, bodies crashing in waves of raw want. But then he paused.

“Get on your knees.”

She looked up at him, dazed. “Now?”

“I want to see you,” he said, voice thick. “I want to take you from behind, hold you down, make you mine again while I hear you say my name like it’s a prayer.”

She turned, trembling, bracing herself. “Massimo…”

He lined himself up, sliding into her inch by inch. “You feel that?” he groaned. “That’s what belonging feels like.”

She whimpered, biting her lip. “Harder.”

“Say it again.”

“Harder, Massimo—fuck me.”

He snapped his hips forward, thrusting deep, each movement rocking her into the mattress. One hand gripped her hip, the other reached around to rub her clit. Her cries grew louder, more desperate.

“Come for me like this,” he ordered. “While I’m inside you. Let me feel it.”

And she did, her body convulsing, falling apart as his name tore from her lips. He followed with a strangled groan, collapsing over her back, still buried inside her.

Neither moved for a long moment.

Then he kissed her shoulder. “You scare me.”

She turned her head slightly. “Why?”

“Because I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you. And that means I have something to lose.”

She reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Then don’t lose me.”

“I won’t.” He pressed his forehead to her spine. “Even if the world burns, you’re mine.”