LOGIN“DON’T JUDGE OTHER BECAUSE THEY SIN DIFFERENTLY FROM YOU.”SOFIA.I step out of the coat room on shaky legs, my body still humming with unfulfilled need, my mind screaming at me for being so reckless.And there he is.Marco.Standing in the hallway. Holding two glasses of champagne. His expression completely unreadable.Oh God.How long has he been standing here? What did he hear?My heart is hammering so hard I think it might break through my ribs. I open my mouth to say something—anything—but no words come out.Marco says nothing. Just hands me one of the glasses and walks toward the balcony doors at the end of the hall.I follow because what else can I do? My legs feel like they might give out at any moment, but I force them to move. Force myself to walk calmly, normally, like I wasn't just in a coat room with his cousin's fingers between my legs.The balcony is mercifully empty. The cold night air hits my flushed skin and I'm grateful for it. Maybe it'll help me think clearly. May
“NOT ALL LOVE ARE MEANT TO BLOOM”SOFIA.The words hit me like a slap. "What? No! Dante, no—""He's in the way." His voice is matter-of-fact. "He's keeping you trapped in a loveless marriage. Let me remove the obstacle.""He's not an obstacle, he's a person!" I push at his chest and this time he steps back, letting me go. "He's been good to me. He's protected me. I can't just—you can't just—"I'm pulling my dress down, fixing my hair, trying to compose myself while my body is still screaming for his touch."Marco is my benefactor," I say firmly. "He saved me when I had nothing.I owe him my loyalty at the very least.""Loyalty?" Dante's laugh is bitter. " Look baby,I would protect you.""You can't promise that." I wrap my arms around myself. "You're in a succession race. You have enemies. Someone tried to kill you three weeks ago. How is that safe for me?""Our world is never safe." His voice softens slightly. "But at least with me, you'd be alive. Really alive. Not just surviving.""M
"TO THE GIRLS WHO LOVEEEEE… THE VILLAN”Three Weeks LaterSOFIA.I should have known weddings would be dangerous.Too much champagne. Too many dark corners. Too many opportunities for Dante to make me do something stupid. The wedding is for one of Marco's distant cousins—Gianna, marrying some businessman from Chicago. It's the kind of event where every branch of the Valentino family shows up in their finest, where alliances are strengthened and deals are made in quiet corners between champagne toasts.Marco is in his element, working the room with practiced ease. I'm playing my part—the dutiful wife in an elegant navy dress, smiling at the right people, making polite conversation, pretending everything is normal.But everything is not normal.Because Dante is here.He's been watching me all night. I feel his eyes on me constantly—when I'm talking to distant aunts, when I'm refilling my champagne, when I'm checking on Isabella.The weight of his gaze is suffocating.These past three w
“LIFE IS JUST BETTER WITH MY GIRLS.”DANTE.We all file into the office. Isabella stays outside, swinging her legs and looking remarkably unconcerned for someone who's in trouble."Isabella beat up Tommy Morrison," Mrs. Henderson says, pulling out an incident report. "Kicked him in the shin and then pushed his face so hard his nose started bleeding."I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. She actually did it. The absolute legend."Oh my God." Sofia covers her face with her hands. "Is Tommy okay?""He's fine. Mostly just his pride hurt." Mrs. Henderson's expression softens slightly. "Though I should mention that Tommy has been bullying Isabella for weeks. Several teachers have reported incidents. This appears to have been... a reaction to ongoing harassment.""So what happens now?" Sofia asks."Well, typically we have a zero-tolerance policy for violence." Mrs. Henderson looks uncomfortable. "But given the circumstances, I think a warning and an apology might be su
“MY UNCLE IS DEFINITELY MUCH COOLER THAN MY DAD”DANTE.I'm in the study reviewing reports from Nico when there's a soft knock on the door."Come in."The door opens slowly and Isabella peeks her head in, looking uncertain."Oh. Sorry. I thought this was Papa's office." She starts to back out."It's okay." I set down my papers. "Your papa's in meetings. I'm just using the space. Did you need something?"She hesitates, shifting from foot to foot in that way kids do when they're not sure if they're allowed to ask for help."I have homework," she says finally. "And Mama's busy making dinner and Papa's not here and I don't understand it.""What kind of homework?""Math." She says it with such despair that I almost smile. "Word problems. I hate word problems."I should probably tell her to wait for her mother or father. This isn't my responsibility. I'm Marco's cousin, not her uncle, not anything to this kid beyond being a guest in her house.But she's looking at me with those big dark eyes
“WHAT DOESN’T KILL ME MIGHT MAKE ME KILL YOU.”DANTEOur eyes meet in the mirror. For a moment, neither of us looks away.Then she quickly breaks the connection, focusing back on my wound."How did this happen?" she asks quietly."Ambush. On the way to a meeting."Her hands still. "Someone tried to kill you?""Yeah." I watch her face carefully. "Only one person knew I'd be on that road today.""Who?""Marco."She drops the cloth. "What? No. Marco wouldn't—""Wouldn't he?" I turn on the bed to face her. "I'm pursuing his wife. Threatening his marriage. His position. You think he'd just let that slide?""Marco isn't a killer."I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "We're all killers, Sofia. Every single one of us in this world. The only question is what it takes to make us pull the trigger."She picks up the cloth with shaking hands, continues cleaning the wound. "You don't know it was him.""I know someone with inside information set that ambush. And Marco is the most logical suspect."







