Chapter 2
The corridor felt smaller now.
The air heavier.
Sara could barely breathe as she stood in front of Vincenzo, her heart hammering far too fast inside her chest. Her hands trembled discreetly, and she could still hear the muffled sounds of the beating happening only a few meters behind them.
The man on the floor coughed blood.
The other remained standing over him.
But Vincenzo stayed completely still, holding her tightly. Calm. Controlled. As if none of it was enough to alter his breathing.
“Breathe…” His deep voice came out low, almost gentle, the warm breath brushing the skin just below her ear.
Sara blinked rapidly, trying to catch her breath.
His body was a solid, warm wall against hers.
She could feel his chest rising and falling slowly, the expensive woody cologne rising from his skin mixed with something more masculine.
His large hands held her arms firmly, thumbs pressing lightly against the exposed skin.
“I need to get out of here,” she whispered, her voice failing.
“And you will,” he answered immediately. “But first you need to calm down.”
She shook her head in denial, clearly terrified.
“That man… he—”
“You walked into a private area,” Vincenzo interrupted evenly, still not releasing her. “Some of the security can get a little excessive when they have to deal with problems.”
It should have sounded absurd.
And maybe it did.
But the way he spoke—so controlled, so certain—and the heat of his body against hers made Sara want to believe him. His dark eyes remained locked on hers, intense, as if they wanted to read every thought passing through her mind.
“The host will take care of it,” he continued, his voice lower now. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”
The words sent a shiver down Sara’s spine. It wasn’t exactly a threat. But it carried weight. Intention. As if he were deciding, in that moment, how much of his world he would allow her to see.
She swallowed hard.
“I was just looking for a quieter place to get some air… I wasn’t expecting any of this.”
“It’s all right.”
Silence hung between them for a few seconds.
Vincenzo was still holding her. His thumbs traced slow, almost absent-minded strokes over the skin of her arms. A touch that soothed and, at the same time, set her on fire.
She barely noticed that she gripped his suit a little tighter for a second, as if her blood were boiling just from touching him.
Then, slowly—almost reluctantly—he eased her out of his arms. His fingers slid down her forearms before he finally let go, leaving a trail of heat on her skin.
“I’m taking you home.”
Sara tried to refuse, still a little disoriented.
“You don’t have to, I can—”
“It’s already late,” he cut in again, elegant even in the way he interrupted her. His eyes dropped to her mouth for a second before finding hers once more. “And honestly? I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to leave alone right now.”
She hesitated.
Maybe from nerves.
Maybe because she was still too shaken to think clearly.
Or maybe because this strange, dangerous, and attractive man made her feel safe for no logical reason at all.
“All right…”
Vincenzo simply nodded and began guiding her down the corridor. His large hand settled on her back, just above her waist—a light but firm touch.
Possessive.
She felt the heat seep through the thin fabric of her dress and had to steady her breathing.
When they returned to the main hall, the party continued exactly as before.
Champagne.
Laughter.
Classical music.
Expensive dresses.
As if no one knew that only a few meters away a man was being beaten until he spat blood.
It made Sara’s stomach turn. She discreetly clutched her purse against her body as she walked beside Vincenzo through the vast illuminated ballroom. Many eyes turned toward them immediately. But no one dared hold Vincenzo’s gaze for long.
Outside the mansion, the cool night air hit Sara at once. She drew a deep breath, trying to regain control.
A black SUV was already waiting at the foot of the main staircase. Other dark cars remained positioned right behind it. Armed men watched everything in silence.
Sara frowned slightly.
“All of this… is for your security?”
Vincenzo opened the car door for her before answering, the gesture elegant and natural.
“My family likes to exaggerate a little. Relax, Sara.”
She climbed in slowly. The interior of the vehicle was absurdly luxurious.
Dark leather.
Low lighting.
Comfortable silence.
When Vincenzo got in right after her and sat beside her, the space suddenly felt smaller. The heat of his body filled the car. His cologne mixed with the leather and the air conditioning.
The SUV began to move slowly. Three more SUVs fell in immediately behind them.
Sara glanced discreetly out the window.
“You must be very rich to have all this security.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Something like that.”
She laughed softly for the first time since the corridor.
Vincenzo noticed.
He noticed how her tension gradually eased. How her shoulders relaxed. How she finally seemed to breathe normally again. And he felt something tighten in his chest—a dangerous curiosity.
“So…” He turned his gaze to her, his voice low in the dark interior of the car. “How do you know the bride?”
It took her a few seconds to understand who he meant.
“Giovanna? She’s a friend. We’ve worked together a few times.”
“Doing what?”
It felt almost like an interrogation, but the tone was calm, almost intimate. As if he wanted to know everything about her.
“I’m trying to work, actually,” she answered with a shy smile. “I’m a beginner model.”
His eyes traveled discreetly over her face. Then the dress. The subtle neckline. The line of her collarbone. Then returned to her eyes, darker now.
“I’m surprised you’re still a beginner.”
She felt her face warm slightly. The way he looked at her wasn’t vulgar. It was… appreciative. As if he were storing every detail.
“Well, I only found the courage to invest in it recently. She’s been helping me a lot. She’s more used to this world… contacts, events… that kind of thing.”
“And you don’t seem to like this kind of place much, or am I wrong?”
Sara let out a weak laugh.
“Was it that obvious?”
“A little.”
“It was my first time. I guess I need to get used to it.”
She lowered her eyes, smiling discreetly.
Vincenzo felt something strange in his chest at that. Because women normally tried to impress him. Sara didn’t. She just seemed… real. And that drew him in a way he hadn’t expected.
They kept talking throughout the ride. About work. About the city. About travel. And the more she relaxed, the more carefully Vincenzo paid attention—to the delicate way she spoke, the way she moved her hands while talking, the small shy smiles that appeared at the corners of her mouth.
When the SUV finally slowed, Sara realized they had reached her neighborhood. The car stopped in front of a small, cozy house on a quiet street.
Simple.
Compared to the mansions and palaces Vincenzo was used to. But there was something welcoming about it. The porch lights on. Small flower pots near the window.
Life.
It only sharpened his curiosity further. What was a woman like her doing at an event of that level?
Sara unbuckled her seatbelt slowly.
“Thank you for bringing me, Vincenzo Salvatore.”
She smiled again, teasing him with the full name. He didn’t smile back. He simply watched her for a long second.
“Are you going to be all right here alone?”
She nodded, giving a small smile before opening the door.
“I will. Thank you for everything.”
Vincenzo got out of the car as well. He walked her to the front door with calm steps, hands in the pockets of his dress pants. When she turned to say goodbye, he was closer than she expected. Close enough that she had to tilt her chin up slightly to meet his eyes.
The air between them seemed to grow denser.
“Try to rest, and forget what you saw,” he said calmly, his voice low.
She let out a small, humorless laugh.
“I’m trying… Good night, Vincenzo.”
His dark eyes stayed locked on hers longer than necessary. He inclined his head slightly, elegant, controlled… far too dangerous. For a second, his gaze dropped to her mouth. Just one second. Then it returned to Sara’s eyes.
“Good night, Sara.”
That made her body shiver. He had said her name for the first time. Slowly. As if testing how it sounded.
She stepped inside right after, closing the door behind her with her heart racing for a reason completely different from fear.
Vincenzo kept staring at the house in silence through the dark window of the SUV. The porch lights.
The flower pots.
Her simplicity.
All of it contrasted absurdly with his world—and exactly because of that, it drew him like nothing before.
The driver waited a few seconds before asking:
“Where to now, sir?”
Vincenzo didn’t take his eyes off the house.
“I want to know everything about her,” he answered, his voice low and cold. “Family. Routine. Work. Friends. Everything.”
The man in the front seat nodded immediately.
Vincenzo finally leaned his head back against the seat as the cars slowly disappeared down the quiet street. But his thoughts remained on the small house, on the woman in the light-colored dress, and on the eyes that seemed not to belong to his world.
And for the first time in a very long while, he didn’t just want to know.
He wanted to have.