Chapter 2

ROSA’S POV

The silence in Vincenzo’s penthouse was suffocating.  

The moment we stepped inside, he let go of my wrist. I almost stumbled back, my heart racing. I should have felt relief, should have been glad he let me go, but instead, my skin tingled where his fingers had been, like his touch had burned into me.  

The place was huge, with floor-to-ceiling windows showing off the glittering city. Everything screamed power and control, black leather, dark marble, dim lights casting long shadows.  

A cage, I realized. A beautiful trap.  

Vincenzo watched me like he was figuring me out, his dark eyes trailing over me slowly. I felt exposed, like I was still standing under the club lights, like he could see right through me; to my fear, my desperation… and how much he affected me.  

I swallowed, forcing my voice to stay firm. “You had no right.”  

He turned, unbuttoning his cuffs, rolling them up as if he had all the time in the world. “No right to what?”  

“To interfere,” I snapped. “To drag me here like—”  

“Like what?” His voice was calm, almost amused. But his eyes, those cold, ruthless eyes, told a different story.  

“Like you own me.”  

The corner of his mouth lifted, but it wasn’t a smile. “Funny. You didn’t seem to mind when you let those men touch you.” His voice darkened. “And that club? It’s mine.”  

My stomach twisted. “That’s not what happened.”  

He hummed, stepping closer. His presence filled the room, overwhelming. “No? Then tell me, dolcezza, why were you there?”  

I hesitated, my heart pounding. If he found out about Sofia…  

“Lying would be a mistake,” he murmured, as if he could hear my thoughts. His fingers brushed over my bare shoulder, light, teasing.  

I slapped his hand away. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”  

His jaw tensed. The amusement in his eyes disappeared.  

“No,” he agreed. “But you do owe yourself some self-respect.”  

I sucked in a sharp breath, anger curling inside me. “Go to hell, Vincenzo.”  

“I’ve already been,” he murmured. “Want to see what it did to me?”  

Before I could react, he moved; fast, smooth, pressing me against the cold marble wall.  

I should have pushed him away. Should have slapped him again.  

But I didn’t.  

Because I remembered.  

The heat of his body. The way his scent, dark spice and danger, wrapped around me. The way he always made me feel unsteady.  

His eyes dropped to my lips. The air between us crackled.  

“You still look at me the same way,” he said, his fingers trailing down my arm. “Like you hate how much you want me.”  

I hated that he was right.  

His hand slid lower, brushing my waist, sending a wave of heat through me. His breath fanned over my throat, slow, deliberate. He wasn’t even touching me properly, yet my body was already betraying me.  

Then his lips ghosted over my jaw, making my breath hitch.  

I exhaled shakily. “Get away from me.”  

His mouth lingered, so close I could feel his smirk. “Liar.”  

The word wrapped around me, dark and knowing.  

A pulse of heat curled low in my stomach. If he kept going, I would lose control.  

But then it hit me.  

Vincenzo Moretti. Mafia Lord. Dangerous.  

I shoved at his chest, hard. He stepped back, his eyes flashing.  

I breathed heavily. “This… whatever this is… it’s over.”  

His expression darkened. “You think you can just walk away?”  

I grabbed my purse. “I am walking away.”  

Vincenzo blocked the door before I could reach it. “No, you’re not.”  

His voice was cold now. Calculated.  

The heat between us vanished, replaced by something darker.  

“You think they didn’t see your face?” His tone was almost bored, but his words sent a chill through me. “You really think those men won’t come looking for you now that they know I interfered?”  

Ice slid down my spine.  

I didn’t respond, because I couldn’t.  

He tilted his head slightly. “You know what happens to people the Mafia sees as weaknesses, dolcezza?” He leaned in. “They die.”  

Fear wrapped around me, but I forced my face to stay blank. “I don’t need your protection.”  

His lips curled. “Oh, but you do.”  

I realized, then, that there was no arguing with him. That no matter what I said, Vincenzo Moretti wouldn’t let me go.  

So I did the only thing I could.  

I pretended to give in.  

I forced myself to relax, nodding slightly. “Fine,” I whispered. “I’ll stay.”  

His eyes searched mine, as if looking for a lie. Then, after a long moment, he stepped back. “Good girl.”  

A shiver ran through me.  

***

That night, when the penthouse was quiet and his breathing evened out in the next room, I slipped out.  

The city was cold, the streets empty as I ran to the only place that mattered.  

The hospital.  

By the time I reached Sofia’s room, my hands were shaking. I pushed open the door softly, stepping inside.  

She slept peacefully, her tiny chest rising and falling, her little fingers curled around the stuffed bunny I gave her.  

A broken sob escaped me.  

I sank into the chair beside her bed, covering my mouth with my hands.  

I couldn’t let Vincenzo find out.  

He could never know.