Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Serena
I ’d spent the night wrestling with my own desires, my body restless and my mind captive to the memory of Anton’s touch. Falling asleep had been a losing battle. The phantom sensation of his hands on my skin had haunted me and kept the Sandman at bay. It wasn’t just the heat of his kiss or the forbidden thrill of the moment. It was the way he commanded me, body and soul, as if surrendering to him was an inevitability. With Anton, it wasn’t just lust. It was hunger—a fire that burned through every layer of restraint I’d carefully built.
By dawn, I gave up the pretense of sleep and slid out of bed. The glow of my laptop illuminated the small hotel room as I sorted emails, dove into grant applications, and scoured the Archaeological Institute of America’s website looking for philanthropy and government organizations that might be interested in supporting my dig. I wasn’t surprised to see there was little interest in funding a site that had already been thoroughly mapped and excavated. Most considered my father’s project—now my project—a fool’s mission. Private funding would be my only option.
I continued to search for opportunities, but every line of text felt like static as my thoughts continued to drift back to Anton’s proposition.
One month.
Thirty days with him, on his terms, in exchange for the funding I so desperately needed for my dig.
The terms were maddeningly simple, yet they weighed heavily on me. I couldn’t deny that the idea of being with him didn’t exactly feel like a punishment. A month in the orbit of a man as magnetic and dangerously alluring as Anton Romano might destroy me, but it would be a sweet demise.
Still, the idea of being bought—of selling pieces of myself, even for my father’s dream—left a bitter taste in my mouth. I just wished I could shake off the notion that I’d be some sort of commodity to him.
Frustrated, I picked up my phone and dialed Caterina. My best friend had always been my compass, grounding me when the storm of my emotions threatened to sweep me away. I’d called her yesterday after checking into my new hotel, but she hadn’t picked up. Things between us had felt off as of late—distant almost. I made a mental note to make time to catch up with her more regularly.
As the phone rang, I drummed my fingers anxiously against the desk, praying she’d answer this time.
“Hello, lovely.” Caterina’s voice spilled through the line like warm honey, thick with sunshine and familiarity.
“Hey!” A breath I hadn’t realized I was holding escaped me. “God, it’s so good to hear your voice. It’s been weeks!”
“You, too! How was New York?”
I hesitated, staring at the city outside my window. “Kind of crazy, actually. I’m still here. ”
“Still there? Why?” she asked, the concern sharp in her voice. “I saw that you called a few times, but I figured I’d just catch up with you this weekend. I thought you were supposed to be home on Tuesday.”
“Yeah, I was,” I murmured, moving to the bed and flopping down. I propped myself on one elbow and sighed. “It’s a long story.”
And so, I told her. Over the next fifteen minutes, I spilled everything—the electric first encounter with Anton at the Met Gala, the fever that had left me sick in his penthouse, and what it felt like to be in the presence of a man who was both too much and not enough. I ended the tale with what had happened last night—the moment that had consumed me since he’d silently walked away. It had been so surreal, and a part of me wondered if I’d imagined the whole thing.
Caterina’s reactions came in sharp bursts of laughter, gasps, and drawn-out silences that spoke volumes. I told her everything—except for one thing. His name. I wanted her raw, unfiltered responses, free from the reality of who he was.
When I finally fell quiet, my heart was hammering from the memories. Caterina let out a long, low whistle.
“Rena, you Jezebel,” she said in awe, but her tone was laced with amusement. “Making out with a gorgeous stranger right there on the street? Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
A flush crept up my neck.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, pressing my fingers to my temples. “That’s the problem. It’s not me. I don’t do things like that. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” She let out a rich, knowing laugh. “I know exactly what came over you—an insanely sexy man made you feel something again. And it’s about damn time, too.”
A small, helpless sound escaped me as my head fell back against the pillows. “I don’t know why I let it happen. ”
“That’s a lie,” my mind whispered.
I did know. It was the way he looked at me, like I was a challenge he was eager to accept. The way his touch lingered like an unrealized promise. The way his lips had branded mine, stealing my breath, my control, my logic. The way he’d dared me to be the woman in the flames.
Caterina scoffed. “Oh, please. How or why it happened doesn’t matter. If he’s as hot as you say he is, then why the hell not? It’s not like you’re some blushing virgin.”
“It’s not about that,” I said, my voice softer now. My gaze drifted to the city skyline, to the place where I knew he was, waiting. “I just need to be careful. He’s interested in funding the dig, but…” My pulse skittered. “It’s more than that. He’s not just any other guy, Cat.”
“What do you mean?”
I swallowed, heart thudding. “Have you ever heard of Anton Romano?”
A long pause followed my question. The silence stretched on, and I began to wonder if she’d lost the connection before she finally spoke.
“As in the Anton Romano?” Her voice turned hushed, almost reverent. “Billionaire, crypto king, international enigma? That Anton Romano?”
I closed my eyes. “Yeah,” I murmured. “That’s him.”
Another pause. Then, almost breathlessly, “Are you telling me that you had one of the hottest, most earth-shattering hookups known to man with Anton Fucking Romano?”
“Yes, Cat!” I said, exasperated. But then I lowered my voice so it was barely above a whisper. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. And it’s why I’m calling. He wants to see me tonight to talk over dinner. I just don’t know if I should go.”
“Rena, don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not being ridiculous,” I argued, sitting up a little straighter. “He’s interested in funding the dig. I have to play this right, but his offer doesn’t come without…stipulations.”
“What kind of stipulations?”
I hesitated, not sure if I wanted to divulge the rest. In the end, my need to unload won out. “He’ll give me everything I need in exchange for thirty days.”
“Thirty days to do what?”
A smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Me.”
She laughed, a sound that was equal parts delight and disbelief. “Let me get this straight. Richer-than-sin Anton Romano made you see stars, and now he’s offering to bankroll your dig if he can spend a month doing you?”
“Something like that,” I muttered, still unable to believe I was considering any of this.
“This is like something out of a romance novel.”
“I would hardly call this romance. More like a cautionary tale.”
“Nope. This is a real-life Indecent Proposal ,” she insisted.
I considered the 90s movie starring Demi Moore. Like the heroine in the movie, I’d taken a gamble. I had followed my father’s path despite my reservations, betting against the odds that I’d unlock Cleopatra and Mark Antony’s mysteries. The gamble had cost me everything. Now my only choices were to give up my father’s dream or give up a piece of myself to keep the dream alive. I was in a no-win situation, and Anton held a double-sided lucky coin.
“In a way, it very much is an indecent proposal. I basically said as much, too. I don’t want to be treated like a business transaction, Cat.”
“I was only teasing. Don’t over complicate it. Money aside, that man is fine as hell. And you hooked up with him before he made you that offer. The interest is clearly there. You should go for it. See what happens. When was the last time you had sex?”
“Cat! ”
“What?” The feigned innocence in her tone was palpable.
I smirked. “Subtlety has never been your thing.”
“Answer the question, Rena.”
Sighing, I pinched the bridge of my nose, hating what I was about to admit. “I haven’t been with anyone since Cade.”
“It’s been a year since you two split.”
“Ten months,” I corrected.
“Close enough. You need to get out there and start dating again and now seems as good of a time as any. I mean, Anton seems like a decent guy. He didn't have to nurse you back to health. He could have easily sent you home with a driver and a ‘get well soon’ card. The fact that he didn't speaks volumes. Do you like him?”
I chewed on my lip for a moment before responding. “Yeah, I like him. He’s charming, smart, and there’s definitely an attraction there.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I’m just too busy to date. I’ve been doing just fine with my rechargeable friend.”
“That’s not the same and you know it. If I were offered this thirty-day deal, I would want to find out if we were compatible in bed first—a hot alleyway make-out session isn’t enough. What if he’s into some weird shit? At the very least, have yourself a one-night stand and find out. They are completely underrated in my opinion.”
I laughed. “I will admit, the idea of no emotional attachment is appealing.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m just not sure if I want to jump back into this arena anytime soon.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.” I paused, frowning before asking, “Have you seen them around by any chance?”
I didn’t have to elaborate on who them was. Caterina knew. The moment the words left my lips, a sharp silence filled the line, heavy with our shared history.
Cade. Briana.
The two people who had shattered my trust in a way I hadn’t even thought possible.
“Fuck Cade Rosenberg,” Caterina spat, her voice laced with venom. “He and Briana can take a flying leap for all I care.”
I let out a dry laugh, though there was no humor in it. “I take it you’ve seen them.”
“This past weekend,” she admitted. “At La Terrazza.”
My stomach twisted, a sharp, unpleasant pang striking through my ribs. Of course it had to be there. Our place. The rooftop bar that had once been my safe haven, where I had spent countless nights sipping cocktails under the Florence skyline with my three friends, laughing and making memories. The first weekend of every month had been ours—mine, Caterina’s, and Briana’s.
Until Briana had blown my world apart by having an affair with Cade.
Now it appeared as if she wanted to take La Terrazza, too.
Was there anything she wouldn’t steal from me?
“What the hell,” I muttered, rubbing a hand over my forehead.
Finding out she had been sleeping with Cade behind my back had been a devastating kind of heartbreak, but what had come after had been worse. The way they had twisted everything, rewriting the narrative until I was the unreasonable one, had hurt even more.
Cade had insisted it had just happened, that he never meant to hurt me, that I was the one who had driven him away with my “emotional distance” while I helped my mother care for my father.
His words echoed in my mind .
“You never let me in, Serena. You know how hard that was for me. I tried, but you kept shutting me out.”
As if his betrayal had somehow been my fault. As if I had been the one to push him into her arms. It was nothing but manufactured regret.
And Briana—her gaslighting had been even worse. She had looked me straight in the eye, with that pitying expression she always wore so well, and had the audacity to say I was overreacting. She claimed that Cade never loved me, and if he had, he wouldn’t have run into her waiting arms.
Even now, their words burned like fresh wounds that refused to heal. It wasn’t the affair that bothered me the most—it was the way they had made me doubt myself.
And now, they were at La Terrazza, parading their relationship around a place that had once been ours.
I exhaled sharply, forcing the bile down.
“To hell with them,” I bit out. “I dare them to show up again while we’re there. We’ll make it so awkward, they won’t want to return.”
Caterina huffed. “I might have told Alessio to spit in their drinks.”
That startled a laugh out of me. I could just picture it—Alessio, the longtime bartender at La Terrazza, giving them his signature unimpressed stare as he leaned in to accidentally contaminate their cocktails.
The brief moment of amusement faded, replaced by an old familiar pain. A heavy weight pressed down on my chest, the betrayal sitting there, cold and resolute. I was done crying over them. Done being angry. But the sting of what they had done, the way they had tried to make me believe I was the problem—that was harder to shake.
Maybe I had no control over the past, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to let them take anything else from me.
Certainly not La Terrazza .
And definitely not my peace.
“Back to my dilemma with Anton,” I said quickly, needing to change the subject. I refused to succumb to the bitter, hollow ache that thoughts of Cade and Briana always provoked.
“I don’t see how this is a dilemma.”
“Humor me. I want your honest opinion about what I should do.”
Caterina sighed. “I already told you. Let yourself live a little and see if the two of you connect. Go to dinner with the guy. Hell, have sex with him until dawn, too. It will be good for you. But it doesn’t have to be more than that if you don’t want it to be.”
“And what about this proposal? A month with me in exchange for money.”
“Would it be so bad?”
I frowned. “I think we’re choosing the wrong movie. This is more like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman . While this is a far cry from the story of a rich man and a prostitute, it still gives me the same vibes.”
I shifted to sit on the edge of the hotel bed, my phone pressed to my ear as I absentmindedly picked at the hem of my shirt.
“So, I’ll say it again. Would it be so bad?” Caterina pressed. “I mean, just think about the clothes Richard Gere bought her!”
I rolled my eyes. “I can buy my own clothes, thank you very much.”
“Oh, shit. That reminds me. What are you going to wear tonight?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t even thought about that.” I flopped down on the bed again, suddenly stressed about my lack of wardrobe choices. I reached up and rubbed my temple. “The only clothes I brought with me are my gala dress and some casual pieces—nothing even close to suitable for going out.”
“Well, you’re in New York,” Caterina pointed out. “There’s no shortage of places to shop. Surely you can find something. ”
I bit my lip, thinking back to the store I’d passed the night before, just down the street from the hotel. The window display had caught my eye, especially the red skirt and matching heels on the mannequin. It was a consignment shop, which would be perfect for my small budget.
“Actually, there’s a store near the hotel. I walked by it last night. They had this gorgeous red skirt and heels in the window. It might be exactly what I need.”
“Red, huh?” Caterina replied thoughtfully. “That could work. And you could add that ruby necklace from Madeleine, too.”
I thought about the necklace with the deep red stone, and how it caught the light like fire. It was on loan, and I could only imagine it’s worth. I couldn’t chance wearing it for a casual night out.
“I can’t. It was only supposed to be for the gala, not a night out on the town. Madeleine has already arranged the insured shipping. I have to return it as soon as I get home.”
“Rena, come on,” Caterina pressed. “You’re going out for dinner in New York, not running errands around Lucca. That necklace would be stunning on you. And who knows? Maybe it’ll give you the confidence boost you need for sexy time.”
I laughed, imagining my friend waggling her eyebrows. I was about to brush off the idea again, but then I paused, recalling how Anton had seemed to admire the necklace—the way his dark eyes had lingered on me. When he undressed me while I was unconscious, he’d removed everything but my panties and the necklace.
Was that deliberate?
Getting up from the bed, I began to pace the room. Having dinner with him tonight wasn’t just a casual thing. He was influential, powerful, and dangerous. And I wanted him—desperately. An ache formed between my legs just thinking about how we might be. But being around him also made me feel off-balance .
I closed my eyes and imagined myself on Anton’s arm, strolling into a restaurant with him—a red skirt hugging my hips and the ruby necklace resting just above my breasts, gleaming like a secret only I knew. Perhaps Caterina was right.
“Maybe I should wear it,” I murmured.
“You’ll look amazing, trust me,” she said, triumph in her voice. “Anton Romano won’t know what hit him.”
Her confidence was infectious, and after I hung up the phone, I found myself eyeing the ruby necklace I’d worn to the gala. Maybe it would give me the confidence I needed to be bold—to be the woman in the flames as Anton had suggested.
Perhaps tonight wasn’t just about a business proposal and dinner, and more about embracing the fire he ignited in me—and if I was going to play with fire, I had damn well better dress for an inferno.