The moment we stepped into the penthouse, the air changed.No words.No hesitation.Lorenzo’s hand wrapped around my neck—not rough, but firm, possessive, commanding. My breath caught, not in fear, but in anticipation. A moan escaped me, involuntary, and his eyes darkened with satisfaction as if that sound fed something feral inside him.His mouth crashed into mine with a hunger that felt like it had been building for hours, days, years. I kissed him back just as hard, my fingers twisting into the front of his shirt, dragging him closer, needing more. Needing him.He lifted me with no effort, his strong hands gripping the backs of my thighs, and I wrapped my legs around his waist like second nature. My hard hat and bag hit the floor with a dull thud. I didn’t care. All I could think about was the fire in his eyes, the tension in his body, the rough edge of jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.His mouth tore away from mine as he carried me down the hall toward the bedroom, his
My breath caught.Mr De Vito.The name alone felt like a jolt of ice water poured down my spine.No one else would know what that name meant to me. No one would know that behind the clean, crisp formality was the man who had spent the night memorizing the slope of my back with his mouth. The man who kissed me this morning like I was the only thing tethering him to the earth. The man who owned me in every way, even if no one else could ever know.Except now… Alessandro was right here. Right next to me.And Lorenzo—Mr De Vito—was calling.Shit. Shit. Shit.Alessandro leaned back slightly, one brow lifted. “You’re vibrating.”“I—what?” I blinked, flustered.“Your phone,” he said with a small grin. “It’s ringing.”“Right. Yeah.” I forced a breath, steadying my hand as I accepted the call and raised the phone to my ear. My voice came out smoother than I felt.“Hello, sir.”There was a beat of silence on the other end. Cold. Sharp.Then his voice came, low and dangerous. “Hello, sir?”My st
The hum of machinery and the rhythmic thuds of hammers filled the air, grounding me in the present, but my mind kept slipping back—to him.Lorenzo.I shouldn’t be thinking about him this much. I shouldn’t feel this flutter in my chest every time I remembered the way he kissed me this morning, soft and sweet, like a promise. I shouldn’t keep reliving the way his fingers traced my skin like he was memorizing every inch. But I did. Over and over.God, I was in deep.I adjusted my hard hat and squinted at the blueprint spread out on the makeshift table in front of me, trying to focus. The sun was beating down hard, sweat gathering beneath my collar, but it wasn’t the heat that made my skin feel tight.It was the secret.Ours.He’d agreed to keep it between us, and I knew it was the right decision. Still, pretending nothing had changed between us… it already felt impossible.My fingers clenched around the edge of the blueprint. I needed to pull myself together. I was on site, supervising t
“It was—”“Who?!” I roared, the word exploding from my chest like a gunshot. The barrel of the Glock pressed hard against his forehead now, sweat slicking his skin.He shook violently, snot and tears dripping down his face as he screamed, “It was a woman!”The air left my lungs in a cold, sharp rush. “What woman?”“I—I don’t know—please, I don’t know!”I shoved the gun harder against his skull. “What the hell do you mean you don’t know?!”“She—she had her face covered,” he stammered. “I never saw her! I swear to God, I never saw her!”I grabbed his collar and hauled him off the ground so fast he nearly choked. “You’re lying!”“I’m not—I swear—I swear on my mother’s grave!” he cried, clutching at my wrists. “She didn’t show her face! She wore a hood—tinted windows—I just met her in the alley behind the old gas station on Route 9! She handed me an envelope and told me what to do!”His eyes were wild now, darting around like a trapped animal. “That’s all! I don’t know who she is—please,
I drove like a man possessed.The world outside the windshield was a blur of trees and buildings, but all I could see was Emily’s face the night it happened—pale, terrified, her eyes wide and glassy with tears as she clung to me like I was the only thing keeping her tethered to this earth.I hadn’t believed her at first.Not entirely.Not when the cameras showed nothing. Not when security swore no one could’ve entered the room. I’d thought maybe…maybe she’d had a nightmare. That the stress, the pressure had gotten to her.But she never lied to me. And when I looked into her eyes that night—haunted, broken—I’d known.Someone had tried to kill her.Now we had the bastard.And he was going to pay.My hands were locked on the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles were white. I couldn’t unclench my jaw if I tried. Fury pulsed through me with every heartbeat, dark and poisonous and uncontrollable. I wanted blood. I wanted screams. I wanted to rip this son of a bitch apart with my bare hands
I was singing in the damn shower. Actually singing. Out loud. Not just humming under my breath like I usually did when I was relaxed or plotting something. No—this morning, I was belting out lyrics like some hopeless fool in a musical. My voice bounced off the marble walls, my hand slick with shampoo as I scrubbed it through my hair and tried not to grin like a madman. Emily. God help me, I was thinking about her again. Her lips. The way they had moved against mine last night—soft, hesitant, then hungry, like she’d been holding back for far too long. It was still burned into my mind, and no amount of cold water could wash it away. I’d kissed her. She’d kissed me back. And then she asked me for time. Time. That word was both a lifeline and a noose. But I’d take it. Gladly. Because the way she’d looked at me… she hadn’t run. She hadn’t pushed me away. That was more than I expected, and more than I probably deserved. "Give me time," she’d whispered. And I had nodded, promising