RICAFORTE MEN 1 : One Night Only

**Two Years Earlier…**

Zenna wrapped her arms around herself, embracing her body as she breathed in the fresh air. The unique scent of the midnight sea was cold and chilling. Silently, she gazed at the shoreline along the eastern coastline of Viareggio. The waves crashing against the rocks sounded like music to her ears.

“So peaceful,” Zenna whispered as she closed her eyes. She inhaled deeply, spreading her arms. She felt like a piece of paper, longing to be carried away by the cold breeze. *Oh, midnight breeze.* She smiled, but her eyes held traces of sadness.

She lifted her gaze to the dark sky, illuminated by billions of stars. Taking a deep breath, she slipped off her sandals and walked along the soft, fine sand.

It was her last night in Florence. The next day, she would be flying back to the Philippines. The moment she set foot on her homeland, everything in her life would change. She had finally reached the deadline. There was no more time to run from the fate that awaited her. There was no escape from her parents’ grasp. Her three years of freedom had already been consumed.

Years ago, she had made a deal with her parents before leaving for Italy. She agreed to their plan of marrying her to the son of one of their business partners, on the condition that they would allow her to leave the country and pursue her dream of becoming a successful fashion designer. They agreed—but only for three years.

A month after securing their approval and completing her documents to work abroad, she flew to Italy. Even while processing her papers, a job had already been waiting for her—something she owed to her friend Candice, who had married a Tuscan general. Candice had been her backer. Zenna was immediately hired as a fashion designer at Armines, a well-known clothing design company in Italy. Because of her diligence and natural talent, her career progressed quickly.

In less than a year at Armines, she was entrusted with managing the company’s newly opened branch in Florence. At first, she struggled to adjust, having grown used to living with someone under the same roof. She had lived with Candice in her friend’s husband’s mansion in Rome. So when she moved into an exclusive house in Florence provided by Armines, she felt like a bird lost in the vast sky. It was different—having someone around, a friend always by her side.

It took her a month to adjust to living alone and to the environment of Florence. By the end of her first year in Italy, the name Zenna Marianette Lopez had begun to gain recognition in the industry.

But time flew so fast—especially when she wanted to stop it. If only she could freeze time so it would never pass. She loved the life she had now. Her life was in Italy. She had felt that the moment her feet touched foreign soil. Only here had she experienced true freedom—far from the watchful eyes and controlling hands of her parents.

But she had reached a dead end. There was no escape. She had made a deal, a promise to her parents, and she had to fulfill it.

“You have to be clever, Zenna. Don’t fall into your parents’ trap. You need to outsmart them before they marry you off to that Robert.”

She remembered Candice’s words when she had confided in her about the problem waiting for her back in the Philippines.

“What am I supposed to do to stop that arranged marriage?” she had asked.

“Marry another man.”

“What?!”

Was Candice insane? She didn’t even want to be tied down yet, and now her friend was suggesting marriage as a solution.

“You know I’m not ready to get married. Aside from not liking Robert, I don’t want to settle down yet.”

“What if you fall in love with someone before your scheduled marriage to your father’s friend’s son? Wouldn’t you marry the man you love? I mean—just hypothetically.”

“I’m here to pursue my dream, Candice. Three years aren’t even enough for that, and you want me to add something as complicated as that? My time is already limited for the career I want.”

“Oh, dear. Falling in love isn’t the foolish thing here—the arranged marriage waiting for you in the Philippines is.”

She had been left speechless. Candice was right. But she had no idea how to escape the fate she had only temporarily run from.

“How about having a baby?” Candice had suddenly suggested.

That idea had stayed in her mind ever since, clinging like glue. *A baby.* Would it work? And how would she even have one?

“We can hire a sperm donor if you want,” Candice had added.

She was going home the next day, and yet she still hadn’t found a sperm donor. She simply couldn’t bring herself to do what her friend had suggested. But as the night went on, a decision slowly began to take shape in her mind.

It was now or never.

Because she knew—she would never truly be happy if her marriage to Robert pushed through.

Then, from the dark and sparkling night, her eyes caught sight of a man sitting on the sand. She took several deep breaths before gathering the courage to approach him. She realized he was drinking when she saw the bottle of wine in his hand. Good. Perhaps her plan would not fail.

Weird if it was weird. Wrong if it was wrong. She was desperate. There was no turning back now. Her plan had to succeed.

*Oh, God… it’s in Your hands. If this is wrong, please give me a reason to stop. If I end up disappointed with his appearance when he faces me, then it means this isn’t right and something bad will come out of what I’m about to do,* she thought.

She cleared her throat to catch his attention. She wasn’t disappointed—he immediately turned to her. In that moment, she held her breath.

*Oh my…* the man was handsome.

She swallowed as she stared at his face. The light of the full moon was enough for her to see the striking man before her. Sea-blue eyes and a broad chest filled her vision. Even on a dark Florentine night, those blue eyes would have caught her attention. He was tall, dark-haired, and dressed in a simple white T-shirt and jeans, with a dark wool coat over it.

“Buonasera, Signor,” she greeted, trying to steady her trembling knees.

She didn’t miss the way his brows furrowed as he looked at her.

“Salve,” he replied, his gaze sweeping over her. “You’re late,” he added, his tone edged with impatience.

*You’re late?* Was he waiting for someone and mistook her for that person?

“You’re not a Tuscan, are you?”

“No. I’m Filipino.”

She secretly admired him. He was the first stranger she had spoken to who hadn’t mistaken her for Tuscan. Most people assumed she was Italian or Spanish, except for those who truly knew her. Her long, jet-black hair—natural for a Filipina—was inherited from her mother. Perhaps it was her eyes, a deep brown, that gave her away, unlike most Tuscans who were blue-eyed… like this man. His eyes were incredibly attractive—like magnets she couldn’t resist.

“I’m half-Filipino and half Tuscan,” he said. “Come.” He gestured for her to sit beside him, and she obeyed.

He smiled when she sat down. She almost gasped at the sight of his even, white teeth—like a toothpaste model. “I’m Matthew. You?”

“Z—ah…” She stopped herself. She couldn’t give her real name to a stranger, not with what she was planning. “Mari, Signor,” she answered instead.

“Nice name. Well, Mari, I won’t beat around the bush. I know Markus paid you for tonight, but I’ll give you a chance to back out. You seem too decent to accept my brother’s offer. Why did you agree?”

She swallowed repeatedly. What was she supposed to say? She didn’t understand what he was talking about.

“I—I…”

“Do you need money that badly to agree to be a bachelor’s gift for my stag night?”

Ah. So he thought she had been paid to entertain him on his “last night of freedom.”

That meant he was getting married.

A sudden pang of regret wrapped around her heart.

But when she remembered her purpose, determination returned. *This is it. Heaven sent you to me.*

“Yes, Signor. I really need the money, that’s why I agreed to your… brother’s offer,” she said, stumbling slightly.

He shrugged. “Well, you’re willing, so… good. Though I wonder—I thought Markus knew my taste in women. I like blondes. But you… you’re not. Very unlikely.”

She felt a flicker of worry. She wasn’t blonde. She wasn’t his type. Would he reject her tonight?

“You’re lovely,” he said.

Only then did she realize how close his face was, his warm breath brushing her cheek.

*There is no turning back,* she told herself.

She flinched slightly when he pulled her closer. Her body stiffened as his lips moved toward hers. She closed her eyes as his lips finally touched hers.

He kissed her softly—so gently.

*God…* It was her first kiss. And this stranger would probably be her first man—the one who would take her virginity.

Fear crept in, but she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t marry a man she didn’t love.

*God, forgive me,* she prayed silently.

It felt like she was floating in the clouds with the way he kissed her. She responded softly, matching his rhythm. The kiss deepened, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting faintly of wine and mint.

She gasped as she felt his hand move across her chest, kneading her breast before sliding down her waist and thigh, exploring.

“Matt…” she moaned as his hand moved beneath her skirt.

He brushed his fingers against the damp lace of her underwear, nipping at her lips again as his tongue stroked them.

“Aching for me? You’re wet now, baby,” he whispered against her ear after releasing her lips.

She gasped as he lowered his head to her neck, kissing her skin, his tongue tracing her collarbone. She wrapped her arms around him to steady herself, arching as his lips moved lower.

Before she realized it, her blouse had been unzipped, the sleeves slipping down her arms. She was half-naked.

He groaned against her chest, his lips moving between her breasts.

Her senses felt overwhelmed, as though she were sinking into something deep and consuming. Every touch and kiss awakened something within her.

He lifted his head, his eyes darkened with desire.

“Mari…” he whispered, his voice thick with hunger.

She shivered as his hand slipped inside her underwear.

“Look at me, baby.”

His deep blue eyes darkened further, filled with desire.

“Ahh… Matt…” she breathed, her legs parting instinctively.

She trembled as his finger pressed lightly against her center, exploring her wetness while his thumb moved over her most sensitive spot.

“You’re deliciously wet, Mari. Wet for me,” he murmured in a husky tone, his gaze locked on hers.

All she could do was moan. Instead of feeling embarrassed, heat flooded her. There was something about him—something in his words—that awakened every part of her.

He guided her down onto his leather jacket, spread over the sand, capturing her lips again as he laid her down.

In moments, he had completely undressed her.

“You’re a goddess, Mari,” he said, his eyes glowing with desire.

She watched in awe as he began to undress. It felt like everything moved in slow motion as he pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it onto the sand. His body was strong, sculpted—like a Greek god. She found herself wanting to feel his chest beneath her hands.

When his hands moved to his belt, her breath hitched.

She wasn’t sure if she should watch—but she couldn’t look away.

Heat flushed her cheeks as he removed the last of his clothing.

She gasped when he freed himself. He was aroused—fully, unmistakably.

Her body reacted instantly, heat pooling low in her belly. She parted her lips as he touched himself slowly, his gaze never leaving her face, teasing her.

“You want this?” he asked, his tone playful.

She didn’t know how to answer. It was a simple yes or no—but it wasn’t just yes. It was *absolutely yes.* Instead of answering, she squeezed her eyes shut.

She felt him hover over her.

“I will take you here, Mari,” he said before claiming her lips again.

He kissed her deeply, savoring her.

His hand moved over her breast, pinching her hardened nipple, drawing a soft moan from her. His touch alternated between kneading and caressing as his lips continued their assault on hers.

“Ohh…” she gasped as his hand slid down her stomach.

He paused, looking into her eyes—dark with hunger.

She gasped as his hand cupped her intimately, stroking gently. Her thighs parted on their own, giving him full access.

She jolted as his finger traced her sensitive folds. She was already wet—and grew wetter as he teased her entrance.

“Ahh…” she breathed, spreading her legs wider.

Her body trembled as his thumb played over her most sensitive spot.

“Mm… Matthew!” she whimpered, barely recognizing her own voice.

He didn’t stop, continuing to tease her, pressing just enough to make her gasp at the slight sting.

Her release was just out of reach—building, burning, unbearable.

Then he pulled away.

“Matt, don’t…” she cried. “Don’t stop, please.”

He smiled, desire and warmth reflected in his expression—but he didn’t give in.

“We’re not done yet, darling. There’s more,” he said, lifting his hand. “See how wet you are?”

Then he slowly licked his finger.

The sight sent a shiver of intense pleasure through her—so powerful she wondered if she could survive it.

And he said they weren’t done yet… that there was still more.