The morning light streamed through the tall windows of the De Luca dining room, catching the edge of crystal glasses and the polished surface of the table. The air was thick with the rich scent of espresso, warm bread, and the quiet expectations of a powerful family.Alessio sat at his usual place, dressed in a white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His tie hung loose around his neck, and though he lifted his fork and took bites of his food, he barely tasted any of it.Across from him, Isabella watched him in silence for a moment. Her long, dark hair spilled over one shoulder, and her manicured fingers toyed absently with the rim of her coffee cup.“You’ve been awfully quiet this morning,” she said lightly, her voice laced with a sweetness that felt carefully measured. “Didn’t sleep well?”Alessio glanced up at her. Their eyes met for a beat too long before he forced a polite, tight lipped smile.“I’m fine,” he said. “Just a long night. Business matters.”Isabella arched a brow, c
The lounge was dim, thick with the scent of aged whiskey and smoke. Soft jazz filtered through the speakers, curling around the low conversation of men in tailored suits and ties. Alessio De Luca sat in a shadowed corner, a glass of bourbon in hand, the amber liquid catching what little light reached him.He wasn’t supposed to be here.Not tonight, not like this.But when Rafael Montayo walked in tall, sharp jawed, carrying danger in every careless stride, Alessio’s carefully cultivated restraint cracked like thin ice.Their eyes met across the room. No words. No subtle nod. Just that look. Heavy. Private. A weight of memory and want.Rafael wasn’t alone. A few of his father’s men hovered nearby, laughing too loudly, gesturing toward the card tables. Rafael brushed them off with a murmured excuse, making his way toward the bar.Alessio didn’t think. He moved.He left his untouched drink and crossed the room, the hum of conversation dulling under the pulse in his ears. When he reach
It had been three days since Isabella moved into the De Luca estate, and already the grand halls felt both suffocating and intoxicating. She was waited on, addressed as Signorina Isabella, seated at the head of tables draped in fine linens, and offered things she didn’t even have to ask for.It was the life she was born for.And yet… the man she was supposed to share it with remained a stranger.Alessio De Luca was a master of appearances. In public, his arm rested lightly around her waist, his words perfectly measured, his smile just enough to suggest fondness. He played the part of devoted fiancé without flaw. But behind closed doors, he was as distant as the moon.Tonight, she planned to change that.The household had retired after dinner. The estate’s endless staff had dispersed, and the last of the guests had left after lingering one glass of scotch too long. Isabella took her time dressing down, letting the tight silk gown fall away in favor of something softer, an ivory satin r
The minute Alessio De Luca walked away, Rafael felt like the goddamn floor tilted under him.He let out a sharp breath and leaned back against the cold wall , staring at the empty space where Alessio had stood a moment ago. His pulse was still pounding, not from the threat of a fight, but from the way Alessio had looked at him. Like he belonged to him. Like it physically hurt to watch Rafael in anyone else’s company.And fuck, maybe it did.Rafael ran a hand through his hair, teeth clenched. He could still feel the ghost of Alessio’s stare on his skin, could still hear that voice, low and tight and reckless.“I’ve tried.”Rafael let out a humorless laugh. What the hell was this? He was Montoya. Born of blood and power and ruthless ambition. He didn’t get undone by the son of his father’s oldest enemy. And yet, one word, one look, and he was shaking like some teenager caught in something he couldn’t control.He shoved the door open and stepped back into the casino.The noise hit him li
The Montoya estate felt like a distant memory by morning.Isabella was radiant as they crossed the threshold of the De Luca estate, her arm linked with Alessio’s. The grand iron gates swung open, the long driveway lined with black cars and guards standing stiff at attention. At the entrance, the household staff waited in a perfect line, heads bowed, dressed in the De Luca black.“Welcome home, Miss Isabella,” the housekeeper said with a slight bow, though there was no mistaking the flicker of calculation in her eyes.Isabella smiled like she’d been born to this.Alessio kept his expression unreadable, though his stomach churned. The world had shifted overnight, and nothing about it felt solid under his feet. He wasn’t just his father’s heir now. He was a man bound to a family that had tried to bury them once. And he was carrying a secret in his blood, in his mouth, in his goddamn hands with Rafael Montoya’s name all over it.The estate was grand, of course. It always had been. Marbl
The second Rafael’s hand closed around the handle of his bedroom door, he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.He stepped inside and slammed it shut behind him, the sound echoing in the cold, empty room. The heavy lock clicked into place beneath his fingers, not that it made much difference. The walls of this house didn’t keep anything out. Not memories. Not ghosts. And certainly not the mess he’d made of tonight.The room was exactly as he’d left it. Perfect. Immaculate. Impersonal.And he hated it.He shrugged off his jacket and threw it across a chair, tugging his tie loose, the knot stubborn like everything else about this night. He poured a glass of scotch with a hand that wasn’t as steady as it should’ve been, the liquid catching in the low light.He didn’t bother with ice.Didn’t bother sitting either.Instead, Rafael stood by the window, staring out at the Montoya estate grounds as though the dark shapes of trees and stone walls could offer him something useful. The moon hung