08- Wrecking My Stepbrother's Wedding.

Vivienne's POV

I blink back tears as I adjust my hoodie, grabbing my luggage just as one of the hostesses descends from the jet to assist me. My fingers tremble around my phone's screen before I power it off completely. It's done. The clock reads 10 AM.

Right now, he's probably standing at the altar, exchanging vows with her, making her his wife while they begin their perfect little family. Meanwhile, I'm still aching from how many times he took me yesterday, my body remembering his touch even as my heart shatters.

I swipe at my tears angrily. France is my destination now, my family's jet will take me there, where I'll try for another music college. Maybe by the time I return, years from now, the pain will have dulled enough that I can breathe without thinking of him.

But just as I reach the entrance, a guard steps into my path, blocking me.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. We've been ordered not to let you leave."

"What?" My voice cracks. "By who?"

"Me."

That voice.

I turn slowly, my stomach dropping as Luca comes into view. His hair is disheveled, bow tie hanging loose around his neck, dress shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He looks like he ran a mile to get here.

"Luca, how—"

His mouth crashes into mine before I can finish, his hands gripping my face with a possessiveness that steals my breath. Right here. In public. Like he doesn't care who sees.

When he finally pulls back, we're both gasping.

"I told you to wait for me, didn't I?"

"Wren told me about the baby—"

"It's a lie." His voice is firm, eyes burning into mine. "She had a hysterectomy years ago. She can't get pregnant."

My heart stutters. "And the wedding?"

"I called it off." His thumb brushes my cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "I'm done with it, Viv. All of it. I just want you." He exhales roughly. "I know it sounds insane, but it's the truth."

"I want you too," I whisper. "But what about my mom? Your dad? The business—"

He hushes me gently. "They're still processing everything. We'll give them time." His lips press to my forehead. "Let's just go to England. I'm exhausted."

I throw my arms around him, clinging so tightly I can feel his heartbeat against mine. He's mine. After all the secrecy, the stolen moments, the pain; he's finally mine. I don't think about my mother's disapproval. She chose her happiness over mine when she married his father. Now, I'm doing the same.

"I love you," he murmurs into my hair.

"I love you too."

We board the jet together, and I head straight for the bedroom, my skin still buzzing with adrenaline. No more hiding. No more pretending. Just us—finally free.

Luca joins me minutes later, after finalizing arrangements with the crew. I'm sprawled on the bed, half-watching some mindless show when I feel his presence in the doorway.

I glance up.

He's leaning against the frame, eyes dark and hungry as they rake over me. The intensity in his gaze sends heat straight to my core. Without breaking eye contact, I peel off my hoodie, revealing the thin tank top underneath. His jaw clenches.

The door clicks shut behind him. Three strides, and he's on the bed beside me, his weight making the mattress dip. I toss my phone onto the sofa, the silence between us thick with anticipation.

"So," I smirk. "This is it, huh?"

His lips curl into that slow, dangerous grin I love. "Yes." His voice is rough.

"No more hiding?"

"No more hiding." His fingers lace through mine, warm and possessive. "You could attend college from England. Get your degree while I work remotely."

I hum, pretending to consider it, even as my pulse races. "And after that?" I tease, leaning closer.

His free hand tangles in my hair, tugging just enough to make me gasp. "After that," he murmurs, lips grazing my ear, "we get married. Mr. and Mrs. Moretti. Officially."

I shiver. "Yeah?"

His answer is another kiss, a hard, claiming one with his tongue sliding against mine before I can catch my breath. His hands are everywhere at once, slipping under my tank top, palms dragging over my ribs, my waist, my hips. I arch into his touch, fingers fisting in his shirt to yank him closer.

No more worrying about who might walk in.

He breaks away just long enough to strip the fabric over my head before his mouth finds my neck. Teeth scrape my pulse point, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. I moan, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Luca—"

His hands grip my thighs, flipping me onto my back in one smooth motion. He hovers over me, eyes burning as they trail down my body. "You have no idea," he murmurs, thumb dragging over my bottom lip, "how long I've wanted to do this without holding back."

I bite his thumb, grinning when his breath hitches. "Then stop talking."

He doesn't need to be told twice.

His mouth crashes back onto mine, one hand fisting in my hair while the other slips beneath my sweatpants. His fingers tease circles that have me gasping.

"Goodness—"

He chuckles darkly before shifting lower, lips trailing down my throat, my collarbone, lower still. Teeth graze my nipple through my bra, and I arch off the bed with a whimper.

"Still so sensitive," he whispers, nipping the spot beneath my breast.

I tug his hair, earning a growl that sends heat pooling between my legs. "Just fuck me, please," I beg, my underwear soaked with need.

He smirks before yanking my sweatpants down in one sharp motion. His hands slide up my thighs, spreading them wide, and the way he looks at me: like he wants to devour me whole makes me crave him even more.

"Better?" he asks.

Instead of answering, I reach for his belt, fumbling with the buckle before finally freeing him. His breath stutters when I palm him through his briefs, and I grin, squeezing just hard enough to make his hips jerk.

"Viv," he groans.

"Now who's talking too much?"

He curses before shoving his pants down, kicking them off the bed. Then his hands are on me again, rough and demanding, flipping me onto my stomach before dragging me up onto my knees.

I barely brace myself before his palm cracks against my bum, the sharp sting making me gasp. He does it again, harder, and I bite my lip to stifle a moan.

"Louder," he orders.

I don't obey.

He huffs a laugh before leaning down, chest pressing against my back as his teeth sink into my shoulder. I cry out, back arching, and he soothes the bite with his tongue before trailing lower, hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise.

Then he's filling me in one brutal thrust, and I choke on a moan, fingers twisting in the sheets.

"Fuck—"

"Finally," he growls, breath hot against my ear. "No one to interrupt us. No one to hear you."

I whimper as he pulls out almost completely before slamming back in, the force driving me forward. He doesn't let up, setting a punishing pace that has me seeing stars.

"Say it," he demands, voice ragged.

I shake my head, biting back the words.

He yanks my hair, forcing my head back. "Say. It."

"I'm yours," I gasp.

His grip tightens. "Again."

"Yours," I moan, the word tearing from my throat as he thrusts harder, his rhythm bordering on desperate.

He groans, forehead dropping between my shoulder blades as his movements falter. "Fuck, Viv—"

I clench around him, and that's all it takes.

He finishes with a ragged curse, body shuddering against mine before collapsing half on top of me.

For a long moment, the only sound is our heavy breathing. Then he shifts, rolling onto his back and dragging me with him, my back pressed to his chest.

His lips brush my shoulder. "So," he murmurs, voice still rough, "college, then marriage?"

I tilt my head to look at him, grinning. "You're really hung up on that, huh?"

He nips my ear. "Yes."

I nod, his lips against my hair the last thing I feel before drifting off.

I wake to another kiss on my forehead.

"Wake up, Viv. We're here."

A tear rolls down my cheek.

This is it.

Our future has just begun.

~THE END~