Damiano’s POVThat morning had started differently.Leo and I stepped into the café, and the world seemed to pause. Forks clinked against plates, conversations dropped mid-sentence, and then the whispers began to crawl through the room like an infection.“That’s Damiano Valentino.”“The billionaire heir—here?”“My God, what’s he doing in a café?”I let out an exhausted sigh, dragging a hand across my jaw. I hated this. Their gawking, their wide-eyed wonder, the whispers.Beside me, Leo’s shoulders twitched. He was trying not to laugh. I felt it in the way his chest hitched.“Don’t,” I muttered darkly, not even glancing at him.His lips twitched harder, and he cleared his throat, choking down the laugh that threatened to break loose.“Not thinking about it,” he said under his breath, voice strangled with amusement.“Mm.” I slid into a seat near the back, my expression carved from stone. “You’re terrible at lying.”Leo smirked but didn’t push. He knew better.After a beat, he leaned bac
Damiano’s POVMy lips dragged from the hollow of her throat upward, slowly, until the faint heat of my breath brushed her ear. She went rigid, every muscle locking tight, but my hold left her no room to flee.“Listen carefully,” I whispered, my voice a dark rasp that slid like a blade beneath her skin. My lips brushed her ear, barely there, but from her reaction, it felt like fire searing her flesh. “Because I won’t repeat myself.”Her breath hitched, her chest rising sharply against mine.“I tried,” I said, quiet but merciless, the weight of every word pressing into her bones. “I tried to make this easier for you. I let you walk into my home and breathe like it was yours. I gave you comfort. I let you be free around me—more free than anyone else alive would ever dare to be. I wanted you to feel like you could survive here.”My grip on her waist tightened until she winced, her nails scraping uselessly against my sleeve.“But now I see…” I let my lips ghost across the edge of her jaw,
Damiano’s POVHer glare burned holes straight through me, but I didn’t let go. My hand was locked around her elbow, a tether she hated and I refused to release.“What’s going on with you?” I ground out, my voice low and simmering. “Why the hell are you acting like this?”Her eyes narrowed, the corner of her mouth twitching like she was holding back a cruel smile. “Acting like what?”I took a step closer, my grip tightening. “Like a child throwing a tantrum. You stormed off when I tried to help you with the door.”That did it. She threw her head back and laughed—sharp, loud, and jagged. Not the kind of laugh that belonged in amusement but the kind that cut to the bone. “Oh, that?” Her voice dripped sarcasm. “God forbid I offend your chivalry by daring to touch a door handle on my own.”I glared at her, pulse ticking, but she didn’t stop.“I didn’t need your help, Damiano. I don’t need anyone’s help. Never have. My brother and I—we’ve always done just fine on our own. And now, suddenly
Damiano's POV I let out a long, theatrical sigh, dragging a hand through my hair like I had just survived a three-hour opera I never bought tickets for. Which, I kind of just did.“Well,” I muttered, rising from my chair, “I think it’s about time we actually leave this circus.”Alessia was still bristling, her movements sharp and clipped. Her pulse thrummed so loudly I almost swore I could hear it. Shawn had touched a nerve, and she was practically vibrating with the need to bite back.I smoothed down my jacket, then brushed my hand lightly against the small of her back, guiding her up. She came willingly enough, though her jaw was clenched tight enough to crack a tooth.I glanced over my shoulder, tossing the detective a smirk as casual as the wine I had just finished. “Goodbye, Detective Shawn.”But Shawn didn’t even blink in my direction. His eyes were locked on her—obsessive and unrelenting, like a hound on a scent.“You’ll need me, Alessia,” he said, his voice low but firm, heav
Alessia's POV Damiano still hadn’t said a word. He just sipped his wine like this was the most entertaining show he’d ever seen. Which, of course, only made me angrier.“Hell, half the crazy stuff you’re pointing at probably has a medical term, like dissociation, conditioning, and suggestibility. People are fragile, Detective. You poke around in the right place long enough, with the right resources, and poof.” I snapped my fingers. “You get obedience. You don’t need supernatural mumbo jumbo to explain it.”I leaned forward, lowering my voice like I was sharing the biggest secret of all. “What you really need is a clue. Because right now? You sound like some conspiracy blogger with too much caffeine and not enough sleep.”I dropped back in my chair, smirking, because dammit—if anyone was going to believe Damiano was Dracula’s next in line, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me. Besides, he was already rich, handsome, and even a Mafia. No need to give him super abilities.“Can't you se
Alessia’s POVI blinked at Detective Shawn, unsure if he had finally lost his mind or if there was actually some hidden meaning to his words.Notice the people?I hesitated, then turned slightly in my chair, letting my gaze sweep across the café. At first, nothing seemed unusual—people sipping coffee, couples leaning across tables, the occasional clatter of cutlery against dishes.But then…My stomach dipped.Every single table—every single person—shifted almost at the same time. Heads tilted, eyes flicked, and for the briefest moment, all of them looked at me and Damiano. Then, as if on cue, they turned away.I blinked. No, scratched that—I blinked three times, hard. Because clearly my eyes were broken. Or maybe the fluorescent lights were playing tricks on me. Or maybe this was one of those flash mobs that had gone horribly wrong.But then it happened again.A woman stirring her cappuccino glanced up. Her eyes locked on us, unblinking, for half a second—then she dropped her gaze, re