Chapter 8 It's Over

I opened the message.

Luciano. Of course.

He said he got a new number since I blocked the last one. Then came this gem:

[Gaia, I'm really sorry about what just happened. I didn't mean what I said.]

[I've been thinking... you'd never do something like that.]

[I know you're still pissed about the whole Cecilia thing and not ready to forgive me. I get it.]

[So yeah, I'll back off. We both need to cool down. When you're ready, we'll talk.]

I nearly threw my phone.

Typed back: [Stop harassing me or I'll call the police.]

Blocked. Again.

No future here.

Luciano, Lysandro—they could rot in the past.

At least, that's what I told myself.

I headed to the bathroom, hoping a hot shower would wash everything away.

But then I saw them.

Fading hickeys across my skin.

My heart stuttered.

That night was still in my blood, pulsing under the surface like it owned me.

It played in flashes—wild, filthy, unstoppable.

My gaze locked on the soft purple bloom below my collarbone.

I could still feel Lysandro's mouth right there.

Still hear his rough, low breathing like fire curling through every nerve.

He moved slow. Torturously slow. Like he was savoring every second of breaking me open.

Blank ceiling. No thoughts. Just heat and light. Too much light.

My whole body floated—weightless, burning.

Dizzy. Dazed.

"Mmh..."

His rhythm, his hands—too much. And then—

I snapped.

Lost it.

Something wet hit his face. Me? God.

I wanted to hide, but my body was jelly. All I could do was tremble and fall apart into the sheets, a broken, breathless mess.

He just looked at me, eyes blazing.

Then he kissed me—soft, reverent.

Mouth to lips. Chin. Neck. Collarbone.

He looked up and grinned.

"Wanna guess how many times I'm gonna ruin you tonight?"

I grabbed a pillow and tried to vanish.

He bit my collarbone like that was an answer.

The pillow hit the floor.

His mouth latched on harder, fingers slipping back between my thighs—slick, slow, wicked. "Countless times," he breathed.

And yeah. He meant it.

I lost count—of the moans, the begging, the way I shattered under his hands again and again.

It was insane.

Too much.

Too good.

Like I'd opened something dark and ravenous inside me and couldn't close it again.

And the worst part?

This man... he rewired me in a single night.

Or maybe it happened the second I saw him.

I wanted him on sight. That simple.

I shook my head hard.

No. Stop.

'Gaia Miller, it was one time. That's it. Over.'

I gripped the sink, dropped my head, whispered it like a prayer.

'Lysandro, Luciano... it's done.'

I knew it had to be.

There was no way anything could happen between me and Lysandro again.

He'd probably already forgotten me.

What I didn't know?

I was already neck-deep in something I'd never outrun.