Alessia
My gallery show is tonight. It feels surreal, like a dream I never fully allowed myself to believe was possible and it’s coming true right in front of me.
I stare at the black dress draped over the edge of the bed. It’s stunning—long, elegant, with just a hint of sparkle that catches the light. Antonio’s taste is impeccable, as always. He told me he wanted me to feel special tonight, and this dress is everything I never knew I needed.
I’m about to slip into the dress when there’s a knock at the door. Antonio steps inside, his eyes sweeping over me before revealing a small, delicate box in his hand.
“What’s that?” I ask, smiling at the sight of him in his tuxedo.
“I wanted to give you something before we head out,” he says, crossing the room to stand in front of me. “Close your eyes.”
I do as he asks, the anticipation making my chest flutter. There’s the soft click of a box opening, followed by the cool metal of a necklace being fastened around my neck.
“You can open them now.”
“Antonio,” I whisper. Dangling from a delicate gold chain is a small camera with a diamond embedded in the lens. “It’s beautiful.”
He gently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering. “Not as beautiful as you, tesoro .”
He stands behind me, pressing a gentle kiss to my bare shoulder, his lips leaving a trail of soft, lingering touches down my skin. His hands glide along my sides, tracing the curve of my hips and sending a shiver of anticipation through me.
My breath catches, every nerve igniting under his touch. He’s learned my body so well, discovering each sensitive spot, knowing just where to touch to make me crave more.
His fingers dip lower, exploring the wetness between my thighs. “You’re so responsive,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting my neck, sending a shiver through me. “I love the way your body reacts to me.”
A soft mewl escapes my lips. He chuckles, his breath warm against my skin. I glance up at the mirror and catch his heated gaze. Our eyes lock as he slides a finger deep inside me.
My head falls back as he slides in a second finger, his thumb finding my clit and rubbing slow circles until I’m breathless. Just as I’m about to fall over the edge, he pulls away, and I can’t help but groan at the loss.
He turns me to face him, capturing my mouth in a heated kiss. We devour each other, his hands exploring every inch of my body. Pulling down the cups of my bra, he lets my breasts spill free, his fingers twisting and tugging at my nipples. I arch into his touch, a soft moan slipping from my lips. “Bend over the bed,” he says, his voice rough and commanding.
I shift into position as he drags my panties down my legs. The sound of his zipper fills the air, and I part my legs, inviting him in. He teases me, sliding the tip of his cock through my slick folds before pressing deep inside me from behind.
His movements are agonizingly slow. “Please, Antonio,” I beg.
“What do you need, tesoro ?” His voice is dark, teasing.
“More,” I gasp.
With those words, he thrusts deep, and every thought fades away. There’s only sensation—Antonio moving inside me, pushing me higher until a wave of pure ecstasy crashes over me. My body trembles beneath him as he grips my hips, pulling me closer while he chases his own release.
“I want everyone in that room tonight to know you’re mine,” he whispers against my skin, placing kisses along my spine.
His possessiveness stirs something deep inside me. Something more powerful than the pleasure we’ve just shared.
“Yes, Antonio,” I breathe. “I am yours.”
He holds my hips tightly, our bodies still connected. I think he’s going to say more, instead he slowly pulls out. I move to stand, but Antonio presses a hand to my lower back “Stay here.”
He disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the water running. A moment later, he returns with a warm washcloth, gently cleaning between my legs before helping me to my feet.
“You should get dressed before I change my mind, and we miss your show,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes.
* * *
The crisp evening air wraps around us as Antonio and I step out of the car in front of the gallery. There’s already a line that stretches around the block. My stomach flutters with a mix of nerves and excitement at seeing the crowd waiting to enter.
Antonio walks around the car to open my door, offering me his hand as I step onto the smooth pavement. His sharp gaze sweeps over the crowd with a subtle intensity. "I would've preferred a more visible security presence," he says, standing close.
Dante discreetly positioned several men in suits who blend seamlessly with the attendees. I’m able to pick them out easily. Their sharp, watchful eyes tell me they’re here for our protection.
I lean in, keeping my voice low. "I don’t want my father overshadowing tonight. This is our moment."
Despite his concern, his expression softens, and he kisses my temple. "Are you ready to wow your fans?"
"Let’s do this,” I respond, a smile breaking through my nerves.
As we walk toward the gallery entrance, his hand rests at the small of my back, guiding me with steady reassurance. The murmurs of the crowd grow louder as we approach, and I take a moment to absorb it all before we step inside.
Ophelia greets us at the door, her face alight with excitement. ", you look stunning!" she gushes, stepping aside to let us in. "The crowd outside is buzzing. They've been waiting for hours."
We enter the gallery, which hasn’t yet opened to the public. The pristine white walls are adorned with my framed photographs, each one carefully lit to highlight its details. The space is serene, the calm before the inevitable storm of guests.
Antonio looks around, his face lighting up with genuine admiration. " Tesoro, it looks even more incredible than I imagined." He pulls out his phone and snaps a few photos of the displays. "I’ll send these to my mom and Cecilia."
“I wish they could be here.”
“They’ll be here for the next one,” he assures me.
As we walk through the gallery, Ophelia explains where she placed each series, her enthusiasm palpable. "Your Magnolia Springs series is right at the entrance to draw people in," she says, pointing to the large prints of tree-lined streets and the peaceful Magnolia River. "And over there are your urban shots of Philadelphia. The contrast between the city and nature is breathtaking."
“Thank you for everything,” I say, my heart full of gratitude.
Ophelia beams, clearly pleased with our reactions. “There are only a few minutes until we open. I’ll leave you two alone.”
The tranquility of the gallery is soothing, a calm before the storm of guests. I bask in the momentary peace as we reach the final display—a series of black and white portraits that are particularly close to my heart. I pause, taking in the expressions of the faces I'd captured, each one unique, yet universally human.
As we finish our walk around, Antonio takes one last photo, a selfie of him and I, before he puts away his phone, takes my hand, and smiles. "Let's go make some memories."
Ophelia swings the doors wide open as she extends her arms, her voice ringing out warmly. "Welcome, everyone, to Luciano’s showcase."
The crowd begins to flow in, their eyes bright with curiosity and appreciation. The energy shifts as people move through the space, pausing to admire each photograph, discussing the depth and beauty of the images.
I stand slightly to the side with Antonio, observing the initial reactions. It's a surreal feeling watching strangers connect with the moments I've captured. Each person is drawn to different elements of the imagery. Some pause longer at the urban landscapes, discussing the vivid contrasts and textures, while others are captivated by the emotional depth of the black and white portraits.
Antonio squeezes my hand, a silent gesture of support and shared joy. We make our way deeper into the crowd, ready to engage with our guests. As I meet the eyes of several attendees, their faces light up with recognition and they offer their congratulations.
A woman approaches me with a bright smile. "Your work is incredible. This piece," she gestures to a shot of a vintage boat on the lake, "it’s so evocative. It feels like I’m right there."
"Thank you," I say, my heart swelling with pride. "I’m glad it resonates with you."
As the night progresses, the gallery buzzes with excitement. The air is filled with the scent of champagne and the sound of murmured appreciation. I continue to make my way through the crowd. My heart swells with each compliment
Tonight is beyond anything I’d ever dared to dream.
In the midst of the evening, Ophelia approaches me with an apologetic smile. “I hate to interrupt, but I need to steal you away for a moment. One of your pieces sold before the doors even opened. The buyer specifically requested your signature. I meant to tell you earlier but it slipped my mind.”
“Of course,” I say.
She smiles gratefully. “I left it on my workbench in the back.”
Turning to the group of guests I’ve been speaking with I offer a warm smile. “Please excuse me for a moment.” My heels click softly against the floor as I head toward the back room.
Once inside, I glance around, expecting to see the piece laid out for me, but the workbench is empty. Confused, I search the room, check the shelves, and bend down to sift through the framed pictures stacked beneath the table.
While I’m still crouched, a soft rustling sound catches my attention from the corner of the room. Assuming it’s Ophelia, I straighten up and call out, “I’m glad you came back. I can’t seem to find the picture anywhere.” I stand and look toward the sound, waiting for her to answer.
But before I can process anything else, a sharp sting pierces my neck. My hand flies up instinctively, but it’s too late. Dizziness washes over me, and the room tilts violently. Panic surges through me as I try to scream, but my voice won’t come. My legs buckle beneath me. The last thing I feel are strong arms catching me as everything fades into darkness.