Chapter 9
Alessandro looks furious. I have no idea why. His shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched, his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them. I keep my head down, breath held tight in my chest, bracing myself for whatever is about to happen.
“Why the fuck would you open the door like that?” he snaps.
I flinch, looking down at myself. “Like what?” I whisper.
“Fucking naked, Elena.” He tips his head back and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose like he’s in physical pain.
My face burns. “I’m sorry,” I rush out. “I thought something was wrong. You were banging on the door. I was taking a bath before lunch.”
I drop my gaze again. “I’ll change. I’m sorry you had to see me like this.”
“What?”
He grabs my arm before I can take a step away. His fingers wrap around my elbow—warm, strong—and heat shoots through me so fast I forget how to breathe. He pulls me closer.
“I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this, Elena. That’s what I meant.” His voice drops lower. Rougher. “It has nothing to do with me seeing you.”
My body betrays me entirely—my breath catching, my lips parting. I bite my bottom lip to hide the reaction. His eyes drop straight to my mouth.
“So…” I swallow, nerves twisting inside me. “It’s not because you’re disappointed with the way I look?”
“What the fuck?” He stares at me like I’ve spoken a foreign language. “Why would you think that?”
My chest tightens with embarrassment, but the truth slips out anyway.
“Because you didn’t sleep with me last night,” I say quietly. “A husband is supposed to sleep with his wife. That’s my duty.”
His hand falls from my elbow. The loss of warmth nearly makes me whimper—But then he’s there, moving faster than I can think.
His palm cups my jaw. His other hand slides to the back of my neck. And his mouth crushes against mine. I don’t even gasp— I don’t have time. Everything inside me explodes. Heat. Electricity. Want.
My hands fly to his chest. My lips part under the demand of his.
This is my first kiss—my first anything—and I melt into him because I don’t know how not to.
He smells like heat and danger and something I’ve never been allowed to crave.
When he finally pulls back, I’m trembling. His forehead rests against mine as he breathes:
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” His thumb grazes my lower lip. “I can’t wait to have my hands all over you. Worship you. But it will be when you want it, Elena. When you want me.” His voice is a low growl. “Not because you think it’s your duty.”
My knees nearly give out. He steps back abruptly like he needs distance before he does something he can’t take back.
“My cousin, Gianna, will be by after lunch,” he says, breath still uneven. “She’s taking you shopping.”
I blink, confused, dazed from the kiss.
He reaches into his pocket and hands me a black metal credit card—heavy, cold, and gleaming.
“There’s no limit,” he says. “Buy everything you want.”
Buy… what I want? I’ve never been told those words in my life. Before I can respond, he turns toward the door—but pauses, his voice dropping into something darker, possessive enough to send a shiver through me.
“And Elena…”
“Yes?” I whisper.
His eyes run over the towel, the bare skin of my collarbone, my legs—
“Never open the door like that again.” His jaw flexes. “No one else is allowed to see what is mine.”
Then he’s gone. And I’m left trembling against the door, heart pounding, lips tingling, this new, terrifying warmth spreading through every inch of me.
Because Alessandro Moretti just kissed me like he wanted to devour me—and for the first time in my life, I think I want to be devoured.
Lunch comes without Alessandro. I wait for him—longer than I should—before finally forcing myself to eat. The house is too quiet. Too big.
I wander through the living room afterward and find a book tucked neatly on a shelf.
I curl up on the end of the couch, losing myself in the pages, letting the soft hush of the house soothe the leftover pulse of the kiss he gave me.
I’m halfway through a chapter when a loud commotion startles me upright.
Raised voices. Footsteps. A sharp thud. My heart leaps. Is something wrong? Is someone here?
I set the book down and follow the noise toward the front of the house.
When I reach the foyer, I freeze.
A beautiful woman with long brown hair and a tiny frame is shoving one of Alessandro’s men back with surprising strength.
“Get out of my way, idiot!” she yells. “I can come into this house whenever I want!”
The man looks terrified—and probably for good reason.
Because standing behind the woman is a massive man with broad shoulders, tattoos peeking from under his collar, and a mean scar carving down the side of his cheek.
He’s glaring at Alessandro’s guard like he’s two seconds away from tearing his throat out.
I recognize the woman instantly. She was at the wedding. Laughing loudly. Dancing with the Don’s wife.
Gianna Moretti.
Dante’s sister. Alessandro’s cousin. Before I can say a word, the woman spins and spots me. Her expression softens instantly.
“Oh!” she beams.
I blink, unsure what to do, but she strides forward as if we’re already friends.
Behind her, Alessandro appears, storming into the room like a force of nature.
“Gia!” he snaps. “You can’t just barge into my house. You knock.”
She bursts out laughing.
“Your goons wouldn’t let me in!”
“That’s their job,” Alessandro bites out.
“Well, they’re terrible at it,” she replies sweetly.
The large man—her guard, clearly—just stands beside her silently, eyes tracking every movement in the room like a predator.
Gianna comes right up to me and flashes a grin.
“Are you ready to go spend my cousin’s money?” My mouth opens—but nothing comes out. She laughs again. “He says you need everything.”
She drags out the word everything, eyebrows wiggling.
All I can do is nod.
Alessandro steps up beside me, placing a subtle hand at my back, grounding me.
“Elena,” he says quietly, “this is my cousin Gianna.”
Gia throws her hands up dramatically. “Hi!”
“And this,” he continues, nodding to the large man with the scar, “is Nico. Her bodyguard.”
Nico gives a single chin lift. It’s somehow more intimidating than a smile.
Before I can respond, another man enters the foyer — younger-looking than Alessandro but with the same level of confidence.
“Good,” Alessandro says. “You’re here.”
He gently pulls me aside, lowering his voice.
“This is Rocco.” The younger man offers a respectful nod. “He’s going to be your guard. You never go anywhere without him. Understand?”
I nod.
“You trust him,” Alessandro continues. “Always. He’ll keep you safe.”
Rocco’s voice is warm, steady. “Ma’am.”
My heart races. This is real. This world is mine now.
Alessandro steps closer and presses a soft kiss to my forehead — a gesture so unexpected my breath catches.
“Have fun,” he murmurs.
Gianna squeals. “Oh, don’t worry. She will.”
We start toward the door when Alessandro calls sharply, “Rocco.”
Rocco stops instantly.
Turns.
Alessandro says something too low for me to hear.
But Rocco’s response carries through the room clear and unwavering:
“With my life.”
A shiver slides down my spine.