LOGINValerio’s POVThe penthouse feels suffocating. I pour myself a drink but barely touch it, the amber liquid mocking me from the glass. Every time I close my eyes, I see Zara against the glass wall from an hour ago — swollen lips, tear-streaked cheeks, the taste of her still on my lips, the warmth of her still imprinted on my skin, and the way she looked at me like I was both salvation and destruction. I grab my phone.Me: Usual place. 9 pm. Need to talk.Luca’s reply comes fast, like always.Luca: See you there, brother.The private club wraps around me like an old confidante—wood-paneled walls, low golden lighting, the smooth burn of whiskey in the air, leather chairs that have heard decades of secrets, and soft jazz humming in the background. Luca is already in our usual booth, glass in hand, and looks at me as I sit down, his expression unreadable.“You look like shit,” he says with a grin. “What happened? Clara giving you hell again?”We’re sitting in our usual private room, leathe
Valerio's POVMy chest heaves as I stare at her, the taste of her still on my lips. This isn’t the first time I have kissed her, but it feels like the first time all over again, raw, desperate, and completely out of control. Her back is still pressed against the glass wall of my office, her lips swollen, hair messy from my fingers. She looks furious, and so fucking beautiful that it hurts.“How dare you,” she repeats, her voice shaking with anger and something else I recognize too well, desire. The same desire that has been tormenting me for months.I don’t step back; I can’t. My hand remains braced beside her head, caging her against the glass. Dio mio (Oh God), I want to kiss her again. Harder. Deeper. Until the rest of the world disappears and it’s only us.“You can’t keep doing this,” she whispers, but her fingers stay fisted in my shirt, not pushing me away. Not yet.“I can’t?” I let out a harsh laugh, my forehead nearly touching hers. “You say that like you didn’t kiss me back
Valerio's POVIt’s been hours and I still can’t let go of the image of her in that black dress from the auction last night. It was torture to get through the night, and now, on my way to the office back to the office after I left for an urgent meeting this morning, I can’t seem to be present for the ride. I get down from the car and walk toward the elevator, my footsteps echoing in the empty garage. The executive floor is mostly empty, as I walk toward her desk, expecting to see her there, head bent over her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard.But her desk is empty.There’s no sign of her bag, the desktop screen is dark, and her chair is pushed back like she was in a hurry to leave. I stop mid-step, my chest tightening. I pull out my phone, dialing her number, but it goes straight to voicemail. I call again. Nothing. I stare at the screen, my thumb hovering over her name, then I type a message.Me: Where are you?The message delivers, minutes go by and there’s nothing. I pa
Zara's POVI’ve been sitting at my desk for three hours, staring at the same screen, reading the same line over and over, but the words blur together. My mind is everywhere at once, in the ballroom, in his office when he said my name like a plea.Tu lo sai che non è tutto, cara. His voice had been so low, so desperate in that crowded ballroom, like he was drowning and I was the only lifeline he wanted. I can still feel the way the air had thickened between us, the way my body had betrayed me with a rush of heat even as anger burned in my chest. Hours later, I’m still replaying it on loop, the professional mask I wore cracking every time I remember how close he stood, how his eyes had darkened with everything we can’t say in public.I close my eyes and press my fingers to my temples. This is exactly why I need to get out of here. Being this close to him every day is slowly destroying me.I open my eyes and look at the glass wall. His office is empty; he’s been gone all morning. I sta
Valerio's POVThe black tie feels like it’s strangling me. I’ve adjusted it several times, yet I can’t seem to breathe. I stand in front of the mirror in my penthouse, adjusting the cufflinks for the third time. An impeccable suit tailored perfectly, great watch, the man staring back at me looks like he has everything under control.Business-related, yes, but emotional and relationship-wise, definitely nothing good to write home about.I replay yesterday in my head. Her coldness and her words took me off guard. "You don't get to apologize and pretend it didn’t happen.” The way she looked at me, as if I were a stranger, had made my heart ache. “Che cazzo ho fatto?” (What the fuck have I done?)Perdonami, cara. The words had slipped out before I could stop them, yet she didn’t accept them. She walked away, taking a piece of my heart with every step she took.I told her it wasn’t over, yet I don’t know how to fix what I broke.My phone buzzes on the marble counter—Clara.Clara: I'm rea
Zara's POVThe flowers sit in the passenger seat as I drive home, their petals glowing under passing streetlights; Valerio’s cruel words loop in my head with every turn. You collect admirers like other people collect stamps. I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles ache, fighting back the tears that burn my eyes. Fuck you, Valerio.By the time I step into the apartment, the weight of the day presses heavily on my chest. I check on Liam, relief flooding me at his steady breathing and cool forehead. He’s safe; that’s what matters. I set the flowers on the kitchen counter, their soft fragrance a gentle contrast to the storm inside me, then collapse into bed, exhausted.My phone buzzes on the counter, and I pick it up.Unknown: I hope the flowers arrived safely. I apologize for taking your number from the business files. I wanted to send them properly. —KenjiI stare at the message for a long moment, a small, unexpected comfort settling in my chest. I type back.Me: They arrived, an
Valerio's POV The break room smells of burnt coffee and cheap pastries. I don’t usually come down here. Executives have their own lounge on the top floor, but something pulls me today, or someone. I push open the door and stop at once.Zara stands near the counter, a paper cup in her hand, talki
Zara's POV The elevator doors just start to close when a large hand shoots between them, forcing them back open. Valerio steps inside. My stomach drops. After everything that has happened tonight—the massage, the almost kiss, the way his fingers had lingered on my collar like he had every right
Zara’s POVThe apartment is quiet when I finally push the door open a little after ten. The living room lamp casts a soft yellow glow over the second-hand couch and the small pile of toy cars scattered across the rug. Mrs. Rivera looked up from her knitting, smiling that gentle, knowing smile she a
Zara’s POV My feet are killing me by the time the clock hit eight-thirty, but I keep typing. The Harrington proposal stares back at me from the screen, marked up with more red ink than black. Valerio had thrown three more files at me after lunch, each one more complex than the last. He was testing







