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CHAPTER 10: AURORA’S POV
Last Updated:
2025-10-24 22:18:05
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SINFUL LOVE CHAPTER 11: RICARDO’S POV
Three days.That’s how long Aurora had been avoiding me.Three days of cold breakfasts, quiet hallways, and a tension I could feel through the walls of the mansion.She’d stop talking when I entered a room, leave a second before I did, and never look at me long enough for it to mean anything.Tonight, that silence was ending.I stood by the doorway of her room, pretending I wasn’t waiting. We were supposed to go to Matteo’s house—some team party that his father’s staff had set up in their villa outside Palermo. Everyone would be there: Valentina, Dario, the whole loud crowd that called itself a family.And her.The door opened.For a second, I forgot how to breathe.Aurora stepped out in a short black dress that didn’t belong to any world I could protect her from. Her hair was down, soft around her shoulders, eyes lined in a way that made her look older, untouchable.“You’re staring,” she said flatly.“Can you blame me?”“You should stop.”“I’ve tried.”Her mouth tightened, but she br
SINFUL LOVE CHAPTER 10: AURORA’S POV
Morning came heavy, thick with guilt I couldn’t shake.I stared at my reflection, trying to fix the mess inside me with a brush and concealer. It didn’t work. Nothing could hide the fact that I’d let him kiss me again.Ricardo Falconeri.My mother’s new husband’s son.My stepbrother.Even thinking the word made my stomach twist. I told myself to stop, to forget, but the memory wouldn’t go away, the way he’d pulled me close, the sound of his voice when he called me butterfly.I hated how much I wanted to hear it again.My phone buzzed.Chiara: “Get dressed. We’re going shopping. No excuses.”Elena: “Come with us. You’ve been too quiet lately.”Maybe distraction was exactly what I needed.I grabbed my bag, told my mom I was heading out, and left before Ricardo could show up and make things worse.Chiara was waiting outside the gates, oversized sunglasses and a designer tote that screamed confidence. Elena stood beside her, scrolling through her phone, calm as ever.“There she is!” Chiar
SINFUL LOVE CHAPTER 9 : RICARDO’S POV
Morning came too fast. I’d barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her again,the way she looked last night when I cornered her in the hall, her breath trembling against my lips, her eyes begging for something she couldn’t name.By the time I came downstairs, the house was already alive with noise, maids setting the table, my father’s voice echoing faintly from his office. Aurora stood by the front door, clutching her bag, ready to leave.“I’ll drive her myself,” I said.Elizabeth looked up from her cup of tea. “Oh, Ricardo, the driver can—”“I said I’ll drive.”Aurora’s head snapped toward me. “You don’t have to.”“I want to.”She looked at my father, then at me again. “It’s fine, really. I can go—”Marcelo raised an eyebrow. “Let him.”There was no arguing with that tone. Aurora sighed under her breath and walked toward the door.I grabbed the keys. “Come on, Rossi. Don’t make me late.”The silence in the car was sharp. She sat stiff in the passenger seat, eyes fixed on the
SINFUL LOVE CHAPTER 8 : AURORA’S POV
Morning light hit the glass façade of Sicilian Heights like fire. The entire campus looked like something out of a magazine, luxury cars lined up by the fountain, designer shoes tapping over marble steps, and laughter that somehow sounded expensive.I was learning quickly that this wasn’t an ordinary university. It was a kingdom of power, where names carried more weight than degrees.Chiara looped her arm through mine as we walked toward the café. “First rule of Sicilian Heights,” she said. “Never drink the machine coffee. It tastes like regret.”Elena snorted beside us, sketchbook hugged tight to her chest. “She says that, but she still drinks it every day.”“It builds character,” Chiara argued, waving her card at the barista. “Three espressos. And one latte for our newest princess.”“I’m not a princess,” I said.“Please. You’re a Falconeri now. That’s royalty around here.”I grimaced. “I didn’t choose that.”“Doesn’t matter,” Chiara said. “Names are everything in this place. You’ll
SINFUL LOVE CHAPTER 7 : RICARDO’S POV
The ball thumped against the court, echoing like a heartbeat under the vaulted lights of the Sicilian Heights gym. Practice meant control, one place where noise turned into order.I owned this floor. Everyone knew it.“Again!” Coach barked.I caught Matteo’s pass, pivoted, drove through two defenders, and dropped the shot clean through the rim. Cheers rippled from the bleachers. The sound didn’t matter—except for one small, steady rhythm that wasn’t part of the game.Aurora.She sat halfway up the stands with a notebook on her knees, pretending to study. Pretending not to watch. I felt her eyes every time I moved. Every shot, every breath.When I looked up, she flinched.I let a slow smirk spread across my face and held her stare until she looked away. Bad idea, now she’d blush all through class.Matteo jogged over, wiping sweat off his forehead. “You’re off today.”“I’m not.”“Liar. You keep staring at the same spot in the bleachers.” He followed my line of sight and laughed. “So tha
SINFUL LOVE CHAPTER 6 : AURORA’S POV
The morning hit bright and loud, engines humming outside the Falconeri gates like an orchestra of money. Black sedans, gleaming convertibles, students heading to the same place I was. My first day at Sicilian Heights University.The driver opened my door. “Signorina Aurora, good luck.”“Thanks,” I murmured, gripping my bag like armor.The campus looked like something out of a movie: glass façades catching the sun, fountains sparkling in front of marble pillars. Expensive shoes clicked on stone. Perfume mixed with the smell of roasted espresso. Every person here looked polished, confident, untouchable.I felt like an intruder.Inside the main hall, banners hung in deep crimson and gold. A crowd of students gathered near a schedule board. That’s where I heard the first whisper.“Falconeri’s new stepsister.”“Did you see her? She’s pretty.”“Poor girl—wrong family to be in.”I kept my eyes forward and scanned for my class number.“Lost?”A voice, sharp and playful. I turned. A girl with
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