Chapter 10: *****

The heavy oak doors swung open. I didn't even try to hide the paper. I stood right there by the mahogany desk, my fingers crushing the printed sheet of my freshman university schedule, my knuckles completely white.

Damiano walked in. It was late, and the sharp scent of smoke, wet asphalt, and rain rolled off his black wool coat. He looked tired, but the moment his black eyes hit the paper in my hand, his face hardened into a familiar stone wall.

"You're supposed to be resting," Damiano said, his deep baritone cutting through the quiet room. He didn't look at Matteo, who was standing by the door with a thick wool blanket in his hands. "Leave us, Matteo."

"Boss," Matteo nodded, dropping the blanket onto the sofa before quickly stepping out, clicking the door shut behind him.

"What is this?" I demanded, my voice shaking as I held the paper up between us. "Tell me right now what this is, Damiano!"

Damiano didn't blink. He walked over, unbuttoning his coat with slow, deliberate movements, and tossed it onto a leather chair. "It looks like a piece of paper you stole from my desk."

"Don't play dumb with me!" I yelled, stepping out from behind the desk to confront him face-to-face. "It’s my freshman schedule! From four years ago! With notes about what time I took the bus, where I bought my coffee, where I sat in class! You’ve been tracking me since my first day of college!"

"Yes," he said simply.

The casual, unbothered way he said it made the blood roar in my ears. "Yes? That's all you have to say? You're a stalker! You're a disgusting, twisted freak! My dad didn't just happen to lose four million dollars at your casino last night, did he? You targeted him. You set this whole thing up just to get to me!"

"Your father is a grown man who made his own choices at my tables, Valentina," Damiano said, his voice level as he closed the distance between us. "I didn't force the cards into his hand. But when he couldn't pay, I chose a very specific form of collateral."

"Why?" I screamed, slamming my hands against his chest. "Why me? I don't even know you! I didn't even know you existed until last night! Why have you been ruining my life for four years?"

Damiano didn't stop walking. He kept moving forward, forcing me backward step by step until the backs of my thighs hit the edge of the heavy mahogany desk. He planted his hands on the wood on either side of my hips, trapping me completely in his space. The smell of the rain and smoke on him was overwhelming, thick and suffocating.

"I didn't ruin your life, Valentina. I protected it," he growled, his face inches from mine.

"Protected it?" I let out a harsh, bitter laugh, tears of rage finally blurring my vision. "By kidnapping me? By forcing me into a marriage contract? By making me patch up your gunshot wounds in a concrete bunker?"

"You have no idea what kind of world you actually live in," he muttered, his dark eyes dropping down to my mouth, tracking the rapid, uneven rise and fall of my chest.

"I know I hate you," I breathed, my fingers digging into the paper, tearing it right down the middle. "I know I will never be your wife. I will never let you touch me."

"You're already mine, Valentina," he whispered, his voice dropping to a rough, low rumble that sent a sudden, unwanted spike of heat straight through my stomach.

"Never," I hissed.

Before I could say another word, Damiano shot his hand out. He yanked the torn paper from my grip and tossed it over his shoulder, his other hand instantly wrapping around the back of my neck. He pulled me forward, his grip firm and unyielding, and slammed his mouth down onto mine.

The kiss wasn't gentle. It was a fierce, angry collision of lips and teeth, driven by the pure, explosive tension that had been building between us since the moment he kicked my front door off its hinges.

I gasped against his mouth, intending to scream, to bite him, to push him away, but the second my lips parted, his tongue swept inside, deep and possessive. A sudden, terrifying wave of physical hunger ripped through my entire body, burning away every single ounce of my resistance like wildfire. My brain was screaming at me to fight, telling me he was the enemy, the monster who took my freedom.

But my body completely betrayed me.

The heat of his bare chest pressing against mine under his unbuttoned vest felt addictive. The raw, heavy rhythm of his heartbeat thudding against my ribs drove me insane. My hands, which had been balled into fists against his shoulders, slowly opened. My fingers slid up the smooth fabric of his shirt, wrapping tightly around the back of his neck, pulling him closer until there wasn't a single breath of air between us.

I kissed him back. I kissed him with a desperate, wild hunger that I absolutely hated myself for, my tongue tangling with his as the anger between us warped into pure, unfiltered passion. He groaned deep in his throat, his large hands sliding down my back, gripping my bare waist through the slit of the silk dress, lifting me slightly against the edge of the desk.

BANG!

The study doors flew open, crashing violently against the adjacent walls.

I tore my mouth away from Damiano’s, my breathing frantic and shallow, my heart hammering like a trapped bird. Damiano didn't let go of my waist immediately; he whirled his head around, his eyes flashing with a lethal, terrifying rage at the interruption.

Standing in the doorway was Leo, Damiano’s younger brother.

Leo was breathless, his chest heaving under a torn jacket. His hands were covered in dark dirt and dried blood, his face pale and streaked with sweat. He didn't even look at me or the fact that we were practically wrapped around each other on the desk.

"Damiano, we have a problem," Leo panted, his voice trembling with absolute panic. He stepped into the room, leaning his weight against the leather sofa just to stay upright. "The perimeter sweep failed. The Phantom just took Bianca.”