CHAPTER 4 : RICARDO’S POV

Sicilian Heights College was mine. Everyone knew it.

Walking down the main hall with Matteo beside me, I caught the stares, the whispers, the way people shifted out of my path like instinct.

“Falconeri’s here,” someone murmured.

Another girl giggled too loud. “He looks even hotter today.”

I smirked. Same routine every morning. Eyes on me, mouths running, and no one bold enough to challenge it. My jacket hung loose over my shoulders, basketball bag slung carelessly, and I moved like I owned the building because I did.

Matteo nudged me. “You love this too much.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” I shot back. “They’re all sheep.”

A group of girls by the lockers whispered. One of them pressed a note into my hand as I walked by. I didn’t even look at her face before I tucked it in my pocket.

Matteo chuckled. “Do you even read those?”

“Sometimes,” I said. “Depends on the handwriting.”

We pushed through the doors into the gym where practice was already buzzing. My teammates shouted when they saw me.

“Falconeri!” one of them yelled. “You ready to smoke those bastards Friday?”

“Always,” I replied, tossing my bag down.

Practice ran like usual. Fast plays, sweat, bodies hitting the floor. I dominated, like always. No one kept up with me. When the final whistle blew, the coach slapped my shoulder.

“You’re carrying us, son,” he said.

I just nodded. I already knew.

After showers, Matteo caught me outside. “Party tonight. Team’s throwing it. You coming?”

I raised a brow. “Do you even need to ask?”

The house was already packed when we pulled up. Music thumped through the walls, bass rattling the windows. People spilled out onto the lawn with drinks in their hands.

Inside, it was chaos. Lights flashing, smoke in the air, bodies grinding on the dance floor. As soon as I stepped in, the crowd shifted, eyes locking on me again.

“Ricardo!” someone shouted over the music.

Hands clapped my back, drinks were shoved into my palm, and girls pressed close, perfume mixing with sweat. Matteo laughed, pulling me toward the center.

We hit the dance floor, and instantly girls circled, moving their hips, trying to catch my eye. One girl grabbed my arm. Another whispered in my ear, her lips brushing my skin.

“You’re impossible,” Matteo muttered with a grin. “They’re like moths.”

I moved with them, letting their hands linger, their nails drag over my shirt. But my head wasn’t fully here. No matter how many girls pressed against me, I kept seeing another face. Another pair of eyes.

Aurora.

The thought of her hit hard, like a punch I wasn’t ready for. Her eyes when she looked at me yesterday, the way her breath caught, the way she tried to hide it. It should have pissed me off. Instead, it did something worse. It stayed.

A hand slipped into mine. I looked down. Valentina.

Of course.

“Dance with me,” she demanded, voice sharp but sultry.

I let her pull me close. Her body molded against mine, her nails grazing the back of my neck. She leaned up, lips brushing my ear. “You look bored. Want me to fix it?”

Matteo shot me a look. I ignored him.

I bent to her ear. “Lead the way.”

We slipped through the crowd, down the hall, into the bathroom. She locked the door with a snap and turned, pressing her back against it.

“You’ve been ignoring me all night,” she accused.

“I’ve been busy.”

Her laugh was short. “Busy pretending not to want me?”

I didn’t answer. I grabbed her by the waist and kissed her hard. She gasped into my mouth, her arms locking around my neck. My hands slid down her back, pulling her tight against me.

She moaned. “That’s better.”

Her dress bunched as I lifted her onto the counter, lips never leaving hers. The kiss was messy, rough, all teeth and tongue. She yanked my shirt over my head, nails dragging down my chest.

“Ricardo,” she whispered, breathless. “You always make me wait too long.”

I pushed her back, letting her legs wrap around my waist. She tugged at my belt, impatient. I bit her lip hard enough to make her whimper.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” I muttered against her mouth.

“You know I do.”

Clothes shifted, hands grabbed, the air filled with her panting and the slap of skin. It was quick, raw, no romance, just release. Her head fell back against the mirror, her moans bouncing off the tiles.

She clung to me. “Faster.”

I gave her what she wanted, but my head wasn’t in it. My body moved, but my mind… my mind was back at the mansion. Back in the hallway. Back with Aurora looking at me like she didn’t know whether to run or stay.

I cursed under my breath as release hit, sharp and blinding. She shuddered around me, nails clawing my shoulders.

For a moment, we stayed tangled, catching breath. Then I pulled back, tucking myself in, grabbing my shirt.

Valentina frowned. “That’s it? No sweet words, no compliments?”

“You know what this is,” I said flatly.

Her eyes narrowed. “You think you’re untouchable, don’t you? You’ll regret treating me like this one day.”

I smirked. “Maybe. But not today.”

She shoved me hard, storming out of the bathroom.

I looked at myself in the mirror, water dripping from the faucet as I splashed it on my face. My reflection stared back, eyes dark, jaw tight. I’d just fucked Valentina, and yet all I could think about was Aurora.

The night dragged with more drinks, more noise, more girls pressing close. Matteo tried to pull me into another dance, but I shook my head.

“You’re off tonight,” he said, studying me.

“Shut up,” I muttered, downing another shot.

“You thinking about her?”

I froze. “What did you just say?”

He smirked knowingly. “I saw the way you looked when her name came up yesterday. Aurora. Your new stepsister. You think I don’t notice?”

I glared. “Careful.”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged. “You’re acting different. That girl’s already under your skin.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

By the time I got home, it was late. The house was quiet, lights dimmed. I walked down the hall, jacket slung over my shoulder, head pounding from the alcohol.

Then I saw her.

Aurora.

She was standing near the balcony doors, moonlight catching her hair, making her glow in a way that stopped me cold. She wore a thin sweater over her nightdress, her arms folded like she was lost in thought.

My chest tightened.

She turned, and our eyes met.

Neither of us spoke. The silence stretched, heavy, charged. My gaze dragged over her slowly, hungrily, and for the first time all night, I felt awake.

I wanted her.

And I knew it wasn’t going away.