Vincenzo and Tommaso halted mid-step, turning in unison, their gazes sharp and bodies coiled like springs ready to snap.“Well, well, look who decided to meow. I thought you were still busy licking the floor where your daddy walks, Enzo. I’m shocked to hear you’ve got a voice of your own—or are you just parroting what you’ve been told to say?” Vincenzo fired back, tilting his head slightly, his calm laced with provocation, as if he relished watching Enzo squirm.“Some of us still have a father to respect,” Enzo shot back, a triumphant smirk curling his lips, each word chosen to slice straight to the bone.“Ouch, Enzo, that stings,” Vincenzo said, clutching his chest with exaggerated theatrics. “You almost made me cry right here in front of everyone, and you didn’t even have the decency to offer me a tissue. Per Dio, where are your manners? Show some respect for the emotionally fragile.”Tommaso let out a muffled laugh, unable to hold back his amusement at Vincenzo’s performance.“Laug
As soon as they entered the office, Vincenzo settled into the main chair with his usual authority, while Tommaso took the seat across the desk, maintaining a rigid posture and an alert gaze.“So, what’s the problem?” Vincenzo asked, resting his elbows on the desk and fixing Tommaso with a steady, no-nonsense stare.“Problem?” Tommaso echoed, raising an eyebrow as if caught off guard or buying time to choose his words carefully.“Don’t screw with me, Tommaso,” Vincenzo warned, straightening in his chair, his expression unyielding. “You’re free to disagree with my decisions—I allow that. But crossing the line into disrespect? That’s something I won’t tolerate.”“When did that happen?” Tommaso asked, brow furrowing as if trying to pinpoint where he’d overstepped. “When did I disrespect you, Vincenzo?”“The moment you disrespected Vittoria,” Vincenzo replied coldly, leaning slightly forward, his eyes boring into Tommaso’s. “Because when you disrespect her, you disrespect me. And that, my
Vittoria threw her head back, lips parted, a moan trapped in her throat, utterly consumed by the pleasure his hands sparked across her body.Vincenzo’s firm touch kept her captive, lost in the sensation, completely surrendered.But once again, the knocks at the door shattered the moment like a harsh, insistent, almost cruel strike.She let out a muffled, raspy laugh, caught between ecstasy and frustration, pressing her forehead to his, still breathless.“Someone out there seems desperate to talk to you,” Vittoria whispered, panting, her lips grazing his in a soft tease, her smile blending desire and irony.“That person’s begging for death,” Vincenzo replied, his eyes still locked on hers, dark and laden with thwarted longing.His hands tightened around her waist, holding her snug against him, as if he refused to let her slip away, even for a moment.“Come in,” he commanded, his voice low, steady, and laced with menace, without so much as a glance toward the door.“What?” Vittoria gasp
A provocative, teasing smile curved Vittoria’s lips, the perfect blend of defiance and surrender.Vincenzo’s hands roamed her waist slowly, with the precision of a man not just exploring but claiming, mapping every inch with deliberate, firm touches that sent shivers through her, as if his fingers were reminding her that he knew every part of her—and none would ever stop being his.“The best part of having you as my wife,” Vincenzo murmured against the sensitive skin of her neck, his voice low, rough, dripping with desire, “is knowing I can have you whenever I want, wherever I want, however I want.”His hand slid along the curve of her hip, firm and possessive, and without hesitation, he lifted her off the ground with ease.Vittoria let out a surprised gasp, clutching his shoulders as her feet left the floor.In one fluid motion, Vincenzo tilted her back onto the desk, supporting her with a single hand.His eyes blazed as he took her in, like a predator facing the sweetest challenge:
Tears streamed freely down Vittoria’s face, not from sorrow, but from a fierce, almost unfamiliar joy.This wasn’t the wedding she’d dreamed of as a girl—no veil, no flowers, no whispered vows before a sacred altar.But standing before Vincenzo, all her childhood fantasies lost their meaning. With his hand in hers, his name now bound to her own, she realized destiny didn’t follow romantic scripts.“Here, bella,” Vincenzo said, holding out a small velvet box toward her.With a tender smile and her heart racing, Vittoria carefully lifted the ring, aware of the weight it carried. Slowly, she slid it onto Vincenzo’s finger, her gaze steady, as if the act were a silent oath.Then, with the same gentle warmth that defined her, she brought her lips to the ring and kissed it softly, mirroring his gesture with a delicate, heartfelt sincerity, as if offering her entire heart in that simple act.“I never thought I could love like this, with my heart all tangled up and still at peace,” she said,
Vittoria’s eyes locked with Vincenzo’s, and for a fleeting moment, time seemed to hold its breath. In that instant, she felt it all crash over her: the smoldering desire that pulsed between them, the raw wounds still bleeding, the broken promises, and the love—stubborn, unyielding, like a flame that refused to die.A silent storm churned in her chest, heavy and uncontainable. Each heartbeat felt like a choice, a surrender, a plunge into something bigger than herself.In the weight of his gaze, Vittoria realized that loving Vincenzo would never be easy, but it would always be inevitable.Her heart raced—not a shy flutter, but a fierce, untamed roar, a response that erupted before it could even reach her lips.Vincenzo took her hands with the grip of a man not asking for a 'yes' but offering an imperfect world where she could be wholly herself.There were no fairy-tale promises, only the raw honesty of a man shedding his pride to stand before her, unguarded and real.Vincenzo didn’t dea