15

Giovanni’s heart hammered a frantic, violent rhythm against his ribs. The realization that Rosa was missing made the walls of his own fortress feel like they were closing in on him. This wasn't a game anymore. If she had run away, or worse, if the Morettis had somehow managed to snatch her during the chaos, she was in grave danger.

He reached into his pocket to call the Commissioner of Police. As the Don, his reach extended far beyond the criminal underworld; he was well-acquainted with high-ranking police officials and military soldiers, holding powerful connections that could mobilize the entire city’s resources in minutes. He knew he needed that kind of power right now to trace her.

But his pocket was empty. Damn it.

He remembered he had left his phone in his study during the grueling hours he had spent arguing with his father and Antonio.

Turning on his heel, Giovanni stormed down the hallway and threw open the heavy oak door to his study, ready to grab his device and launch a city-wide manhunt.

Instead, he froze.

Sitting in his leather armchair, completely unbothered by the chaos she had caused earlier, was Rosa.

She had a glass clutched in her hand, taking a heavy swig from a bottle of his finest liquor. Giovanni’s eyes dropped to the bottle, tracking the missing fluid. His brow furrowed in sheer disbelief. There was absolutely no way she was going to survive drinking that much without being completely out of it. She was already visibly, heavily tipsy—her shoulders slumped, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson that matched her burgundy sundress.

A massive wave of relief washed over him, instantly followed by an exhausting rush of irritation. She hadn't disappeared. She had just been hiding in plain sight, drowning her panic in his alcohol.

Without breaking eye contact with her, Giovanni tapped his earpiece, his voice tight. "Vivienne. Stop the search. Cancel the deployment. She has been found. She’s in the study."

He cut the connection, strode across the room, and stood over her. Rosa looked up at him, her vision clearly swimming as she gave a soft, unfocused blink.

"You are reckless, cara," Giovanni muttered.

Before she could protest or drop the glass, he leaned down and scooped her up into his arms. Rosa let out a soft gasp, her head lolls against his shoulder as he carried her out of the study and marched back up the grand staircase. She felt light, warm, and entirely helpless against his chest.

He kicked open the door to her bedroom, walked over to the bed, and gently dropped her onto the plush mattress.

As she hit the sheets, the burgundy dress riding up slightly around her thighs, Rosa didn't pull away. Instead, a slow, completely unbothered smile spread across her lips. The alcohol had clearly stripped away all her fear, leaving behind a reckless, hazy confidence.

She looked up at him through heavy eyelids, her hands reaching out to weakly grasp at his lapels.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

The heavy tension in the room snapped, the atmosphere turning thick and intoxicating the moment she demanded that kiss.

Those words threatened to unleash the absolute monster inside him. He leaned over her on the bed, holding her face gently in his hands. His fingers were firm against her skin, his eyes burning with an unbridled passion as his jaw clenched tightly—a stark, telling sign of the brutal restraint he was trying to maintain. For a breathless moment, the room fell into a dead silence, the only sound the ragged patterns of their breathing.

"Be careful what you ask for, cara," Vanni murmured finally, his deep voice vibrating with danger. "I won't hold back just because you're drunk."

Rosa stared up at him, her gaze defiant despite the haze. "But I don't want you to hold back at all."

She raised her head slightly, shifting her weight and placing her hands firmly against his chest to steady herself. Vanni’s dark eyes narrowed, searching her face. "Do you know what you're asking me to do?"

"I'm asking you to kiss me," she repeated, her voice laced with a reckless confidence.

"Would you ask me to do that if you weren't drunk?" he demanded, his grip on her face tightening just a fraction.

Rosa let out a soft, breathy laugh. "Maybe yes, maybe not. Maybe this is the real me. Maybe I'm a freak after all." She said winking at him.

Vanni’s expression hardened, the last of his hesitation melting away into pure, predatory intent. "I'm not gentle, Rosa. I won't go slow on you just because you're fragile, and I definitely won't stop at just a kiss."

Her eyes closed halfway, her lips parting as she looked at him through a sudden, brilliant sheen of drunken tears. Even with her vision swimming, she didn't think of changing her mind. Not even for a second.

When he reached out and pulled firmly on her hair, her neck arched back in complete surrender, a soft, helpless moan escaping her lips. Vanni's burning gaze landed on the smooth column of her exposed throat before straying lower, tracking the swell of her breasts pushing against the fabric of her dress. The burgundy sundress might have been small, but from his position over her, her cleavage was completely on display, fueling the fire in his veins.

On a normal day, Vanni was not a man to take advantage of women when they were incapacitated. He had rules. He had honor. But when it came to Rosa, every single rule he lived by completely disintegrated.

Rosa could feel the raw, untamed lust radiating off his body, vibrating in the air between them. He released her hands, shifting his grip until his large, warm hand wrapped securely around the front of her throat, pinning her to the mattress.

"Don't tell me to stop," he growled softly, a lethal warning.

Before she could even breathe, Vanni leaned down and smashed his lips onto hers, consuming her in a wild, hot, completely intense, and deeply romantic kiss that took the breath right out of her lungs.