Yasmine POV I felt a heat spreading through my body, an intense warmth that seemed to consume every inch of me. My hard nipples grazed against the firm chest pressing into me, and a shiver of pleasure ran down my spine. I sighed out in ecstasy as his mouth found one of my nipples, tugging and sucking with a fervor that sent my senses reeling. Each bite was a jolt of electrifying sensation, and my vision blurred, overcome by the haze of desire. I clung to the dark-haired man above me, his presence dominating my awareness. His sole intention was clear—to drive me out of my mind with pleasure, and he was succeeding with every calculated movement. His thigh slipped between mine, and instinctively, I ground my wet heat against him, seeking the sweet release that danced just out of reach. He lifted his mouth from my breasts, leaving a trail of tingling skin in his wake, and captured my lips in a deep, consuming kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of possession, of a hunger that matched my
Yasmine POV After doing the dishes I returned back to the sitting room to continue working on my painting. I start working on the canvas since I have all details in my head. I dipped my wide brush into the thin wash of burnt sienna, dragging the warm color across the surface. The raw white linen vanished beneath each stroke, replaced by a soft clay tone that reminded me of the rooftops below. When I rubbed at it with a rag, the pigment sank deeper into the weave, glowing faintly, almost alive. Charcoal in hand, I leaned closer. The horizon came first — a faint line. Then a gentle curve where the dome would rise, a slender tower beside it, nothing more than whispers for now. My fingers smudged as I worked, tiny stains of black and sienna marking my skin. The canvas wasn’t a picture yet, only a warm-toned surface with the ghost of a city hovering across it. I stepped back satisfied with the warm tone and prop the canvas on the easel to dry overnight,after which I started clean
Yasmine POV As Valentina and I exchanged playful jeers while setting the table, I realized how different she seemed tonight. With her usual reserve cast aside, she was surprisingly engaging—her laughter, light and musical, softened the air between us. Then, the sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor. My heart jolted—I knew that stride anywhere. Luca was back. “Mi scusi, Signorina,” Valentina murmured, excusing herself as she hurried to the door. I followed more slowly, keeping a measured distance as I stepped into the sitting room. She was already at his side, slipping off his coat and shoes with practiced ease before vanishing to grant us privacy. “You’re back,” I said evenly, my tone calm, almost indifferent. “Not happy to see me?” His voice carried that teasing edge that always unsettled me. My lips curved into a reluctant smile. “Of course not,” I murmured, turning to retreat to the dining room. Before I could take a step, his arms closed around me. His strong,
Luca POV As soon as Matteo left, Dante started in on me, his voice sharp with suspicion. “Are you sure about this woman? She’s a stranger, Luca. You don’t know where her loyalty lies, and she might not be able to handle our way of life.” I poured a glass of whiskey, ignoring the weight in his tone. “Yes, I know that,” I said evenly. “But I’ve already made up my mind about her.” Dante leaned forward, jaw tight. “This isn’t like you. You don’t gamble with the family. What if she cracks under pressure? What if she runs? Or worse—what if she turns on us?” I set my glass down with a deliberate thud and fixed him with a cold stare. “She won’t.” He held my gaze, unblinking. “And if she does?” His meaning was clear—he was offering to handle it his way. My silence stretched, heavy as a loaded gun, before I spoke. “No, Dante. She’s mine. No one touches her. Not you, not anyone.” My voice hardened, a blade beneath velvet. “If she ever becomes a problem, I’ll deal with it
Luca POV Don Mancini stood, signaling to his son and cousin that it was time to leave."Since we are not of the same opinion, it’s time to go. But I’ll give you some time to reconsider. Until then, I will wait for your response.""I will not change my decision, Don Mancini. Alla prossima—see you next time." Without another word, the three men exited, leaving only Mateo Bellandi, diplomat of the Bellandi family and the third son of the clan.Calmly, he adjusted his cufflinks before speaking, his voice smooth and deliberate.“We would like to propose something different… an alliance between our families. Through marriage.” I narrowed my eyes, observing him in silence.“My sister, Aria Bellandi ” Mateo continued in a steady tone, “is of age and perfectly suited for a marriage like this. If she were to marry you, Luca, it would unite our families by blood rather than merely through business. To strengthen that bond, one of your sisters would also marry into the Bellandi family.”
Luca POVBefore leaving the penthouse, I strapped my gun into the arm holster and slipped a few knives into their discreet places before pulling on my coat. I took the private elevator down to the parking lot, where my driver was already waiting.He opened the door to the SUV, and I slid onto the leather seat, scrolling through a few messages from Dante. Moments later, we pulled out of the lot and arrived in front of the family restaurant where my meeting with some clients and associates was to take place.Dante stepped out, scanning the street with sharp eyes before landing on me. We clasped hands firmly, pulling each other into a brotherly hug—the kind forged from years of loyalty and blood ties.“Ciao, come stai?” I greeted, slapping his back.“Benissimo,” he replied, nodding, his voice steady. “Very good.”We headed inside, Dante slightly ahead, leading me to a private room at the back. The restaurant buzzed with low conversation, the clinking of cutlery, and occasional laughter f