28 – A personal defeat

Vittoria let out an exasperated sigh, turning her face away, desperate to escape the damnable pull that Vincenzo radiated.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her steps heavy, almost dragging, as if every movement beside him was a personal defeat.

“I should’ve pulled the trigger,” she whispered, a dark smile playing on her lips, as if savoring the memory of a missed chance.

“A chance you won’t get again,” Vincenzo shot back, a slow, sinful smile curling his lips. “Because, let’s be honest, bella, you’d rather feel the fire I ignite in every damn inch of your body than the pain of imagining me dead.”

Vincenzo released her fingers with deliberate ease, as if relishing the taunt before it even landed.

His hand slid along her side, warm, firm, tracing a path as if carving his name into her skin.

“Don’t touch me,” Vittoria snapped, her tone sharp, as if every curve of her body screamed that he no longer had permission to cross that line.

But of course, he didn’t listen.

His hand drifted low