LOGINDamn, you're delicious," he murmured into her mouth. "You taste like a goddess." She heard the sound of his belt buckle, and her frantic heart stopped because she knew what was coming. "Damn, I need to be inside you," he declared with a hint of desperation that she loved. She reacted and helped him free himself from his pants because she needed it, too, and she needed it now. But when his member was finally free, and she felt him position himself, his gaze wandered for a moment to a spot behind them. It was only for a second, but that second was enough to see how the entire expression on his face transformed. The desire froze, and instead of the fiery, passionate man from a moment ago, he was that block of ice he usually was again. He took two steps back and looked down. She sat up, confused. "What's wrong?" she asked, baffled. He tensed his jaw and shook his head while zipping up his pants again. A whirlwind of emotions crowded her chest and got stuck in her throat. "Enzo," she called out, but he didn't respond. He bent down to pick up his shirt and walked toward his room without looking at her. "Enzo!" she yelled, but he ignored her and entered his room, slamming the door. She was left on the island, naked, not understanding anything. All the fire went out, giving way to a sadness that settled in her heart. He rejected her. Enzo rejected her. After his wife’s death, Enzo Romano swore his heart was buried with her. Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable. But when duty forces him into a contract marriage with innocent Arianna, the girl who secretly adores him, she finds herself falling for a man who will never love her back.
View MoreEnzo's Pov
I arrive at my brother's house and the gates open to welcome me. Antonio told me he had something urgent to discuss with me, and although I knew it had to do with the organization, there was something in his tone of voice that told me that he wanted to talk about a very sensitive and personal matter. I get out of my car, and the housekeeper opens the door for me, bowing in greeting. As I enter the first thing I hear are my nephew's screams playing in the yard, and a hint of a smile automatically spreads across my face. Since Serena’s death, those children are the only thing that manages to brighten my days a little. The housekeeper wants to accompany me but I ask her to leave me alone. I don't need company and she knows it; I know the place very well and I always prefer silence and solitude. I head out to the garden, and as expected, the first thing I see is Luca running around. His mother is sitting under a tree, cradling Sofia, our little princess and the newest addition to the family. I look around for Antonio and find him sitting on the terrace, a whiskey in his hand. I raise my hand in greeting, approach his location, and sit on the chair next to him. "Okay, here I am," I say, patting his shoulder. "What was so urgent that you needed to talk to me about?" I see him take a breath and ramble, which confirms my suspicions: what he has to tell me is no small thing. "First of all, I want you to know that what I'm going to ask you is not an order. You know that I love you like a brother and I would never ask you to do anything that would make you unhappy." "Come on Antonio, say it already, you're making me nervous," I reply. "You know well that things haven't been easy this year. The Russians and the Irish are upon us. They've taken advantage of the rift within the organization to gain strength, and that's something we can't allow. Therefore, we must help the organization consolidate its position, but Boston is causing problems." "I'm aware of that, it's nothing new to me, I understand that. What I don't understand is what you're getting at," I say, a touch of impatience in my voice. "Edoardo always wanted me to marry his daughter and he's been upset since my marriage to Ilaria." "The girl is almost a child!" I snap with annoyance. This is one of those absurd traditions that I don't endorse. Every woman should be free to decide who she wants to marry, when she's mature enough to do so. "Not anymore, the girl is now legal," my friend informs me. I haven't seen her for a couple of years and I've never paid special attention to her, but I remember her from a very young age. "He's still very young," I counter. "Besides, you're already married, I don't understand." I stop my babble when I begin to understand where this conversation is going. “He wants to strengthen ties with my family at all costs, and if I'm no longer available, he wants my sotto capo. My Right Hand. You.” he says. "And there it is, just what I feared." I feel the blood drain from my body at the mere thought of getting married. I lean back in my seat and take a deep breath, trying to process it. "Do you want me to marry her?" I ask, even though I'm already clear about everything. "I repeat, it's not an order, it's your decision. If you don't want it, we'll find another way." I snort in disgust at the situation, lean my head back on the backrest, and close my eyes, thinking about the possibilities. I don't want to get married. The only woman I wanted to share my life with was taken from me. I'm fine with the way things are now. I like my solitude, being able to dedicate myself 100 percent to the organization, and coming home just to sleep for a few hours, basking in her memory. On the other hand, if I don't do it, the friction with Boston will continue and will now be worse, and right now we can't afford that luxury; that would give the Bratva and the Irish an advantage. We've fought too hard to regain power. The last two years have been a mess, and I'm not willing to go back there, much less have Antonio do it. He and Ilaria have suffered enough; they deserve a little peace, as much as our world can allow. And now there are the children too. They deserve a peaceful childhood, even though I know their fates are marked like ours. Then there's the girl. That poor innocent girl must be terrified that she's going to be married off to a complete stranger, and if I don't do it, Edoardo's going to offer her up to the highest bidder, some dirty old man who's going to take advantage of her innocence, who's going to use her without her consent until he's sick of her and turns her into a human monstrosity, a breeding ground for the Mafia. Serena always hated this side of our world; nothing we do is honorable, but abusing women is absolutely deplorable, and she wouldn't forgive me if she knew I had the chance to save one and didn't. I rub my chin, considering my options, and despite everything, I make my decision. “ Family Comes First, Always” I say our motto. I won't let everything we've worked for go to waste. “I will, Antonio, I will marry the girl.”EnzoMy hands are sweaty as I wait, which feels ridiculous considering I’m married to that woman—but this time things are different. In this story, we’ve definitely done everything backwards.“Where are you planning to take her?” Antonio asks in that ridiculous, over-the-top concerned tone he only uses to mess with me.“To a hotel, to fuck her until dawn,” I reply sarcastically, and he pretends to be offended.“If you keep talking like that, I’m not handing my daughter over to you, young man.”“Stop being such a clown—or are you practicing for when some pubescent kid wants to stick it into Graziela?”The expression on his face shifts instantly from mockery to anger, and even my skin prickles with discomfort.“Shut the fuck up, asshole! You’re going to have a daughter too.”That statement makes the chill intensify.“Better not talk about that,” I agree.Arianna appears at the top of the stairs, interrupting the uncomfortable direction our conversation had taken, and my breath catches w
EnzoI pull my coat tighter around my body and tuck my gloved hands beneath my arms. The weather is absolute shit this time of year, and the most sensible thing would be to wait for her inside the car—but it’s too far, and my anxiety gets the better of me. I want to see her the moment she comes out. So here I am, standing in the middle of campus with my feet buried in snow, while a bunch of hormonal girls stare at me like I’m a porn actor about to make their dirtiest fantasies come true.At another point in my life, I would’ve been more than happy to help them out. But now things are different, and instead of scratching the itch with just anyone, here I am—deep in absolute abstinence.Mario lights a cigarette to keep warm, leaning against a tree while he keeps watch. I feel the urge to ask him for one, but I stop myself. I’ve decided to quit for my daughter—nicotine isn’t good for her development, not now, and not when I finally get to hold her in my arms.“Put that shit out!” I shout
Arianna His response leaves me a bit stunned because he's completely right; maybe I'm sending him mixed signals, and it's normal that he doesn't know how to act."The truth is, I don't even know exactly what I want, Enzo."I hug myself, rubbing my arms because even though the dress has long sleeves, the air is freezing."I think coming out here wasn't such a good idea," he says with a half-smile that doesn't reach his eyes.He stands up, takes off his jacket, and sits beside me to drape it over my shoulders. I wrap myself in it, and feeling his scent envelop me sends all my hormones into overdrive—tears start pooling in my eyes."What I think is that we need to communicate better. We can't keep assuming things about each other, or we'll never get anywhere.""I agree with that."I look at him closely, and having him so near isn't doing my system any favors."I don't want you to pull away like that. I don't want you to feel like you need an excuse to call me or come see me. Of course,
AriannaThe dinner is served, and the exquisite aromas fill the entire house, which looks majestically decorated, but the scent that pleases me the most is the scent of home. That feeling, until now unknown, of being in a family, of feeling at peace despite the war raging outside.For me, Christmases were always big, boring parties with people I didn't even know and expensive gifts under the tree that I had to open alone, so hearing Luciano laugh out loud while his father plays with him feels like a choir of angels—it's the sound of hope, of happiness.Graziela approaches with clumsy steps that make me laugh with tenderness; it's beautiful to see how she grows and every new thing she learns. I bend down to kiss her rosy cheeks, but when I'm about to pick her up, her mother's shout stops me."What are you doing?" she asks, alarmed, running toward us to pick up the baby. "You're crazy, Ari, you can't lift any weight, and get up—you can't be down there crouching either."I obey without a


















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