All Chapters of Triplet Temptation: My stepbrothers are triplets : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

~ELENA~I am walking to the gym this Saturday morning because I know I will find my stepbrothers here.I have been trying to get all of them together at once, and the gym is the perfect place.When I get to the gym, I take a deep breath.Am I doing the right thing by reaching out to them??But I need answers. Clarity. Closure. Or maybe I just need to see them look at me the way they did that night…like I was theirs.I sigh deeply and open the gym door.The gym is humid, drenched in the earthy scent of sweat and testosterone, the low thud of music vibrating off the walls like a pulse. And there they are—Vincenzo, Nico, and Riccardo.Shirtless.Drenched in sweat.Muscles flexing, rippling with every movement like living, breathing art carved by the gods.I stand at the entrance, pulse already racing. A drop of heat coils low in my belly, not from the temperature in the room, but from them. My stepbrothers.God, they have no idea what they do to me.Nico punche

~ELENA~I can’t move.My legs are frozen, my brain stutters, and my perfectly glossed lips part in stunned silence.Alessandro fucking Bianchi.Here.In Italy.In Florence. In my space.In my school.I feel like the ground beneath me has cracked open. My pulse thunders.A rush of memories floods my brain….him pressing me against cold marble walls, his voice a whisper of seduction and destruction, the late-night fights, the broken promises, the way he kissed me like he was trying to claim my soul… then shattered it like glass.My breath hitches, my fingers tightening around the strap of my designer bag.Gianna grabs my arm. “Elena,” she whispers urgently. “Is that…?”“Yes,” I croak.Valentina’s eyes go wide. “Holy shit. That’s the infamous Alessandro?”The infamous Alessandro. The infamous ex.The one I told them about over endless tubs of gelato and bottles of cheap wine. The guy I said I would rather die than see again.The one I swore I’d never let near me a

~FLASHBACK CONTINUES~As I sat frozen on the floor of that dorm room, Alessandro rose to his feet without hesitation.He walked to me slowly, each step deliberate. My stomach twisted with nerves and curiosity as he reached out a hand to help me up.Everyone was watching us….smirking, whispering, giggling. I barely noticed.My palm slid into his, and warmth exploded across my skin.He pulled me gently to my feet, then led me to the far corner of the room, where we had a bit of privacy.The moment we stopped, he looked down at me.“Are you sure?” he asked, voice lower now, more serious.I nodded, barely.I could feel everyone’s eyes drilling into our backs, and my heartbeat was roaring in my ears.He leaned down slowly, his lips brushing mine.It was featherlight…barely there, but it sent tremors through my body.I gasped a little, and he took that as his cue.His lips came back, firmer this time, hotter. His hands moved to my waist, not rushing, just holding.I didn’t know what I was d

Alessandro stands in the middle of his father’s office, tall and impassive, hands in his pockets, face unreadable. His black shirt clings to his frame, sleeves rolled to the elbows, veins prominent, tattoos peeking at his wrists. The room is thick with tension.Behind the heavy mahogany desk sits Don Luciano Bianchi, his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back. A half-burnt cigar sits forgotten in the crystal ashtray, smoke curling up.“I told you to stay in America,” Don Luciano’s voice is calm—but razor sharp.“I heard,” Alessandro replies flatly.Luciano leans forward, placing both hands on the desk. “Then you deliberately chose to disobey me.”“I chose to come home.”“You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't have come home. This is not your home anymore,” the Don snaps.A pause.Alessandro’s jaw clenches, but he doesn't look away. “This is my home.”Luciano stands up slowly, his towering figure radiating power and fury. “I sent you to America, Alessandro, for reasons best known to me. You

~ELENA~His mouth crashes against mine, hot and urgent, stealing the breath right out of my lungs.I push at him instinctively, but his body doesn’t budge… solid, immovable, like the wall behind me. It's like pressing against stone. His hands cage me in, one braced beside my head, the other gripping my hip with infuriating certainty.My palms, meant to shove him away, stay there and my fingers find the hard muscle beneath his shirt…. feeling the taut heat beneath his shirt, and for a dizzying second, my resistance falters and I can feel my resolve slipping through my fingers.The heat of him seeps through the thin fabric, creeping up my arms, making my head spin. His scent… that mix of cologne and something darker, something purely Alessandro, coils around me like smoke, intoxicating.His hand slides up my side, cupping the curve of my waist, and he presses closer, so close that there is barely any space between us . Every inch of me is caught between the wall and his body, caged and