15. Dead and Burnt

Luca's POV

Her question hit me like a bullet.

"Why do you have a camera in my room?"

Everything in me stilled. My breath, my hands, my thoughts. For a second, I stared into her eyes, trying to figure out what she already knew, what she had seen. But then she looked at me like she wasn’t afraid—like she still wanted me—like she still wanted me to know I could still have her. Even if the walls were starting to crack.

So I didn’t say anything. Not yet.

Instead, I held her closer and kissed her again.

No way I'm missing this chance.

I kissed her slowly, deeply, like I had all the time in the world. My hand slid down the curve of her waist, pulling her closer until her body melted into mine again. Her legs wrapped around me with ease, like her body already knew the rhythm.

The tips of her wet inside I could already feel on the tip of my hard member.

I moved with time now—not rushed, but deliberate. She gasped as I let myself slide inside her, her hands holding my shoulders like she didn’t know whether to hold me close or push me away.

I looked into her eyes.

"You want to know why I watch you?" I whispered, thrusting slowly.

She nodded, lips parted, breath shallow.

"Because you're mine," I said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "And I need to see my little doll. Always."

She clenched around me as I said it. Her reaction didn’t escape me.

"Every time you spend in that room, every movement, every moment you think you're alone—I want it. I want it all."

I lowered my head, kissing her collarbone, then the soft curve of her breast, biting gently as her back arched beneath me.

"I don't just want to have you around. Maria. I want to own you."

Her moans filled the room, and I let myself get lost in them.

I slid my hand between her thighs, my thumb finding that spot I know would make her body tremble. Her head fell back, eyes fluttering, lips trembling.

"Mr De Rossi..." she whispered, like she couldn’t decide if she hated me or wanted me more.

"I watch you because I can't stop," I said against her skin. "Because when you're not in my arms, I just keep wondering where you are, what you're doing, if you're safe or if you're thinking of leaving."

I kissed her stomach, then her inner thigh, teasing her until she whimpered. Then I was inside her again, slow but deep, making sure she felt every inch, every truth.

"You're mine, Maria. My little doll. Mine. Not anyone else's."

She tried to break away but I held her and increased my pace a little. Thrusting deeper into her, ensuring I sent every inch of my member inside her until I had heard that moan that signaled that she felt that.

We collapsed together on the bed with me still inside her. Our bodies and sweat holding up together. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her so close I could feel her heartbeat echoing through me.

I went on, holding her down and going in and out. Letting her moan directly in my ears until I finished inside.

I remained on her body. Allowing myself to rest on her as I could feel the tension leaving my body. Her moans getting softer until she was quiet.

Quiet and spent. I knew she was still thinking. Still wondering.

Good.

Let her wonder. Let her ache.

She turned slightly, trying to give space to relax well on her and I did. She stroked her hair lightly and somehow that made me sleepy.

I don't there's anything more I want than to remain like this in her arms. For a long time.

*********

It was deep into the night when I woke.

The moonlight slipped through the curtains, casting soft silver lines across the sheets. She was now beside me, curled into herself, completely bare. Vulnerable.

Her skin glowed under the moonlight, lips parted in sleep. One arm draped lazily across my chest like she belonged there, like she trusted me.

That trust—it burned.

Because I didn’t deserve it. Not fully.

I sat up slowly, careful not to wake her. My eyes traced every line of her body. Her neck, her collarbone, the soft dip of her waist. My fingers itched to touch her again, but I didn’t.

Instead, my mind drifted.

To Alexa.

All what she must have been through in the arms that monster. He would hurt his own cousin that much to get to me.

Perhaps that's why she never came back, because she was in shackles with Alejandro.

Alejandro.

That bastard.

The things she must have suffered at his hands—things I could barely imagine without my blood boiling.

And yet she stayed silent. Enduring all that violation and humiliation.

I swear every single one of those men would die with their balls in their mouth. Literally.

Alejandro especially.

My jaw clenched. My fists curled.

No one hurts what belongs to me and walks free.

Not Maria. Not Alexa.

I reached out, letting my hand rest lightly on Maria’s hip.

She shifted slightly in her sleep, her face softening even more. Peaceful. Unaware of the storm building in me.

I leaned in and kissed her temple gently.

Then I lay back and stared at the ceiling, my breath slow and deliberate.

Tomorrow, I would start.

I must find Alejandro.

And I must make him pay.

Severely.

And this time, I must ensure he stays dead.

Dead and burnt.