LOGINAndrea's POVThen there was Marcus, the charming journalism student who'd pursued me relentlessly my junior year. We'd gone on a handful of dates, and he'd been perfect on paper—smart, funny, attractive, ambitious. But when he'd looked at me, I didn't feel that electric charge I'd felt under Dante's gaze. When he'd touched my hand across the dinner table, I didn't feel my skin ignite the way it had when Dante's fingers had wrapped around my wrist.I'd tried. God, I'd really tried to move on, to find someone who made me feel even a fraction of what I'd felt during those confusing, intense days in New York.But no one measured up.No one had Dante's intensity, his darkness, the way he'd looked at me like I was something precious and dangerous all at once. No one made my heart race with just a smirk or a nickname I pretended to hate. No one kissed me like the world was ending and I was the only thing that mattered.I'd eventually stopped trying to date altogether, telling myself I was fo
Andrea's POVFour years later.It's been four years since I went to New York. Four years since my mom collapsed and I left in a panic, my lips still tingling from a kiss I didn't understand. Four years since I'd seen Luca's mansion, walked those marble hallways, sat in that library.Four years since I'd seen Dante.I just graduated from college with honors—a Bachelor's degree in English Literature with a focus on creative writing. My parents had been so proud when I walked across that stage in my cap and gown, their faces beaming from the audience. My mom, healthy and strong now, had cried happy tears. My dad had taken about a thousand pictures. It had been one of the best days of my life.Luca had been proud too. He'd sent me flowers—an enormous bouquet of roses and lilies that had barely fit in my dorm room—along with a card that said, "Congratulations, piccola. Always knew you'd do great things. Can't wait to celebrate with you."That had been three weeks ago.Since then, I'd moved
Andrea's POVMy hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer even though we were already pressed together. His lips moved against mine with a desperate intensity that stole my breath, like he'd been starving for this and couldn't hold back anymore.The kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping against my bottom lip, and I opened for him without thinking. The taste of him flooded my senses—mint and coffee and something uniquely Dante that made my head spin.His hand slid from my jaw into my hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, angling my head so he could kiss me deeper. A small sound escaped my throat—half gasp, half moan—and I felt him shudder against me.This was nothing like I'd imagined a first kiss would be. This wasn't sweet or gentle or tentative. This was desperate and hungry and consuming, like we were both trying to pour weeks of pent-up tension and want into this single moment.His other hand moved from my waist to my lower back, pressing me impossibly closer. I could feel e
Andrea’s POVHis voice stopped me in my tracks. He still hadn't turned around, still had his back to me, but somehow he'd known I was there.I stood frozen in the doorway, torn between running and staying."Andrea." Now he did turn, and even from several feet away, I could see the intensity in his dark eyes. "Please. Don't leave."Something in his voice—the rawness, the vulnerability—made my feet move forward instead of back. I walked through the French doors and onto the balcony, stopping a few feet away from him."How did you know I was there?" I asked quietly."I always know when you're near me." He said it simply, like it was an undeniable fact. "I heard about your mom. Luca told me." He paused, his jaw clenching. "I'm so sorry, Andrea."The genuine concern in his voice, the softness in his eyes, was my undoing. All the fear and panic and terror I'd been holding back since Luca had told me the news came rushing to the surface.A tear slipped down my face, then another, and then I
Andrea's POV"I know you do. That's why I already arranged everything." Luca reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, showing me a screen with flight details. "My private jet is fueled and ready at Teterboro. We can leave whenever you're ready."Relief and gratitude flooded through me, mixing with the fear and panic. "Thank you. Thank you so much.""You're family, Andrea. Of course I'm going to take care of you." He squeezed my shoulder. "Go pack whatever you need. I'll have Dante drive us to the airport."At the mention of Dante's name, something twisted in my chest, but I pushed it away. This wasn't about him. This wasn't about hurt feelings or complicated attraction or any of that. This was about my mother."Okay." I was already moving toward my closet, my mind racing. "Okay, I'll pack. Just give me ten minutes.""Take your time. The plane isn't going anywhere without you." Luca headed for the door, then paused. "Andrea? She's going to be okay. I really believe that."I wa
Andrea's POVThe rest of the week, I behaved exactly as Dante wanted me to act. Professional and distant.It was easier than I'd expected, honestly. Easier to shut down, to build walls, to become the polite, emotionless stranger he'd made it clear he wanted me to be. I stopped asking questions. Stopped trying to engage him in conversation. Stopped looking at him with anything other than cool indifference.When he drove me places—which Luca still insisted on, much to both our displeasure—I sat in the passenger seat and stared out the window in silence. When he stood nearby while I explored museums or bookstores or walked through Central Park, I pretended he didn't exist. When our eyes accidentally met across a room, I looked away immediately, my expression carefully blank.I became exactly what he'd accused me of being that day in the food court: a spoiled college girl who was just passing time until she could go home.Except I wasn't spoiled, and I wasn't just passing time. I was prot
Dahlia’s POVThe words hung in the air like ice.My head jerked up, my heart instantly pounding. “What do you mean followed?” I asked, my voice trembling as I turned around in my seat. Through the back window, I saw headlights—bright
Luca’s POVI watched her sleep longer than I should have. The room was dark except for a thin ribbon of light that cut across the bed. Dahlia’s breath was soft and slow now. Her face looked peaceful, almost like the girl I’d seen sometimes when she thought no one was looking — small, quiet, and ver
Dahlia’s POVCecilia’s voice floated through the quiet dressing area, sharp and dripping with mockery. “Can you believe it?” she said, followed by a cruel little laugh. “Luca married that cheap little whore. She doesn’t even know what class means.”The sound of her voice made my stomach twist, but I
Dahlia’s POVI woke up the next morning to something that made me blink twice. For the first time since our marriage, Luca was actually sleeping beside me. Not just passing by, not just staying in his study all night—but here, in the same bed as me.My heart gave a little jump.He had never done thi







