All Chapters of The Lie that Binds: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The kiss deepened until it was impossible to tell where her breath ended and his began.Serena gasped as Marco lifted her up effortlessly from the balcony railing, his hands firm around her waist. The sea roared below them, waves crashing like a private orchestra playing according to their intimate rhythm. Not like either of them could hear it though. The only sound Serena could register was the wild thump of her own heart and the slight, trembling exhale that left Marco’s lips as he laid her gently on the cold marble floor.The tiles beneath her were smooth, kissed by the moon and wind, but they were no match for the heat spreading beneath her skin.They were already halfway undressed.Her hair sprawled around her head like a halo, and her nightgown rode up with a single sweep of Marco’s hand. He hovered above her, shirtless now, eyes burning into hers as though trying to memorize this moment. Every breath, every movement, every inch of her counted.“Tell me to stop,” he said again,

SerenaThe warmth came first. And she felt it along her bare arms, trailing up her legs and along the curve of her spine. However, it wasn’t sunlight or the hum of electricity, it was busy heat from last night, coupled with a strong scent that wasn't hers.She woke up alone in her bed. But she remembered everything. The cold marble floors. Marco’s hands. His mouth. The tangle of clothes they never picked up. How his body had pressed against hers, hard and strong, and how she had fallen asleep wrapped up in his arms, her cheek resting on his chest as he breathed into her hair.She sat up slowly, the silk sheet slipping from her shoulders. Her thighs ached slightly from the night before. A slow smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Her hair was a complete mess, her lips tender. There was a lazy soreness between her legs, the kind only one kind of night could leave behind.Then came the smell, and her nose flared.Something warm, buttery, and crisp. Bacon. Toast. Eggs. And the sharpne

The next morning resumed like what could have been a normal day. But it couldn't have been, unbeknownst to Serena. The sheets were still warm when she stirred awake, her limbs wrapped lazily around the softness of the mattress. She blinked into the sunlight, groggy but content, the remnants of the previous night clinging to her skin like a delicate memory.She stretched slowly, her body sore in the most pleasant way. The intimacy, the passion, the way Stefano had held her like she was his entire world. It was unforgettable. Even though guilt still throbbed in her heart, being with Stefano again it felt like bliss.She stared into nothingingness for the first few minutes, biting slowly on her lips, the same lips that had been possessed by Marco. However, she rolled over. The other side of the bed was empty. Her brow furrowed slightly. Stefano was already up and about.Still, it wasn’t unusual. Stefano was a man of responsibilities, constantly juggling matters that didn’t operate on a

The moment the door shut behind them, silence settled between them like a loaded gun.Serena stood by the edge of Marco’s room, the air suddenly feeling tighter, heavier. Her pulse was erratic, and though she tried to stay still, her fingers clenched the edge of her cover-up.She didn't know what to expect from this man, this obsession-struck man, who doesn't see he was jeopardizing everything just by bringing her to his room. Her mind raced.Marco took a step closer, eyes flicking over her face like he was trying to read something that wasn't being said."You said yes to him?" His voice was low, but there was no gentleness in it.Serena’s throat felt dry. She forced her chin up. "Of course I said yes." Marco let out a laugh, but it wasn’t light or amused. It was bitter, hollow. A sound that didn’t belong to the man she made love with.He mimicked her mockingly. “Of course I said yes,” he repeated, voice cracking with sarcasm.Without warning, he turned and swiftly raised his hand to

Back in Rome.Few hours before.The scent of eggs, toasted brioche, and coffee drifted through the villa, softening the tension that might have settled in the air. Sunlight spilled through the open windows, catching on the edge of the breakfast table where Stefano carefully placed a plate in front of Serena. She offered a small smile as he took the seat beside her.“Voilà,” Stefano said. “The best scrambled eggs in all of Rome, prepared by your fiancé.” He grinned as he said the word.Serena chuckled softly. “So the Almighty Stefano De Ricco cooks too?”“Only for you.” He replied.They ate in a quiet rhythm, the clinking of cutlery against plates filling the space. Serena was oddly quiet—smiling when she had to, nodding when appropriate—but her eyes weren’t fully here. They were far away, drifting somewhere beyond the breeze that touched the curtains.Stefano noticed.Until her sleeve slipped slightly as she reached for her cup, revealing faint red marks on her wrist.His gaze lingere