LOGINAndrea's POVSince when did he call me that? He'd called me Bambi, called me Andrea with frustration or heat or teasing, but never "Miss Andrea" like I was some dignitary he'd just met.The formality felt wrong. Felt like a wall he was putting between us, a distance he was deliberately creating.And it stung more than I wanted to admit.But I wasn't going to let it show. Wasn't going to let him see that his coldness affected me. I was twenty-two years old now, not eighteen. I'd survived heartbreak and moved on with my life.At least, that's what I was going to pretend."Thanks," I said, keeping my voice light and casual. "It's good to be back."We stood there in awkward silence for a moment. He didn't move from the doorway. I didn't move from my position by the refrigerator. The kitchen suddenly felt very small despite being massive, the air between us charged with four years of unspoken words.I told myself I wasn't going to let it bother me. I was here to celebrate my graduation, to
Andrea's POVLater that day, after I'd been shown to my room—the same beautiful guest suite I'd stayed in four years ago—and had unpacked most of my things, I found myself restless.Luca and I had talked for a while over coffee, catching up on the basics, but then Luca had gotten pulled away for business and Denise had encouraged me to rest and settle in after my journey.So I'd spent the afternoon unpacking, taking a long shower, trying on three different outfits before settling on dark jeans and a soft cream sweater that made me feel put-together but not like I was trying too hard. I'd wandered the mansion for a bit, reacquainting myself with the layout.Everything looked the same—the marble floors, the expensive artwork, the crystal chandeliers. Even the library looked untouched, like time had stood still in this place.But I hadn't seen him. Hadn't heard his voice or caught a glimpse of him anywhere.Maybe he wasn't here. Maybe Luca had sent him on some errand.I told myself I was
Andrea's POVI settled back into my seat and watched New York City pass by through the tinted windows. We'd left the airfield and merged onto a highway, the skyline visible in the distance. It looked different from how I remembered—bigger, more imposing, more real now that I was older and understood more about the world.The drive gave me too much time to think. Too much time to wonder what I was walking into. Too much time to imagine scenarios of seeing Dante again.Would he be at the mansion when I arrived? Would Luca have warned him I was coming? Would he care?Maybe he had a girlfriend now. Maybe even a wife. Four years was a long time. He could have moved on completely, built a whole life that had nothing to do with the girl he'd kissed once on a balcony.The thought made my chest ache, which was stupid. I had no claim on him. We'd never even really been anything. Just a week of confusing tension and one kiss that I'd run away from.But those birthday gifts...They had to mean so
Andrea's POVI was on the private jet Luca had sent to pick me up, and honestly, it still amazed me how wealthy my cousin was. He had a freaking private jet. And a mansion. And probably a dozen other things I didn't even know about.The jet was enormous—not that I had much experience with private planes, but this one felt excessive even by rich people standards. "ROMANO" was written in elegant script on the exterior, a bold declaration of power and status that made me feel simultaneously impressed and slightly uncomfortable.The interior was just as luxurious. Cream leather seats that were more comfortable than my bed at home. Polished wood accents. A flight attendant who'd offered me champagne, snacks, a full meal, anything I could possibly want.I'd settled into one of the plush seats with a book, trying to enjoy the experience. Trying not to think about where I was going. About who I might see when I got there.I tried not to think of Dante while on my flight.I failed miserably.E
Andrea'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
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 POVMy eyes widened, a jolt of shock racing through me. My stomach twisted, and heat rushed to my face so fast I thought my entire body was on fire. I knew exactly what it was, but my mind scrambled, trying not to think about it, trying not to imagine what it meant.I swallowed, my throat d
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
Dahlia’s POVMrs. Cruz brought my breakfast to the table herself. The smell of eggs, toast, and coffee filled the air, warm and comforting. She set the tray in front of me with her usual calm smile.The smell of food filled the room — warm buttered toast, scrambled eggs, and fresh coffee that smell







