Chapter Twenty-Nine Ella
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ella
Our Stromboli expedition is magical.
It’s strange being back on the boat where Gualtiero and I made so many happy memories. I’m sure it’s part of his plan to surround me with reminders of how happy we were.
And it’s working.
Try as I might, I can’t stop the ice wall I built around my heart from cracking, piece by piece, with every hour I spend with him.
The pull toward him hasn’t weakened. If anything, it seems stronger.
Or is that because I’m denying myself?
Either way, every brush of his hand lingers too long. Every look from him catches and holds. And those damned butterflies refuse to settle, churning low and restless whenever he’s close.
Seriously, I’m so screwed.
I lean against the railing, watching smoke coil lazily from Stromboli’s crater, waiting for the next eruption. When it comes, it still makes me jump.
A sharp gasp escapes me as instinct takes over and I press into Tiero’s side. He wraps an arm around me without hesitation, pulling me in, his voice low as he teases me about my fear of volcanoes.
But honestly, how irrational is it? The thing is literally erupting right in front of us.
“Do you really think I’d take you anywhere dangerous?” he asks.
Yes, you would. You already have.
His hand moves slowly along my back, meant to soothe, but it does the exact opposite.
Heat spreads from that point of contact, sinking deeper, rekindling something I’ve been trying very hard to ignore.
I tilt my head up, and the moment our eyes meet, the air shifts.
It’s there. That same dark, consuming hunger.
But it’s not claiming. It’s waiting.
My breath falters, trapped somewhere between my lungs and my throat as the space between us narrows. He’s close enough now that his breath caresses my skin.
His gaze holds mine, searching, giving me time… a way out.
All I have to do is lean back or say no.
But I don’t move.
And I’m not sure I want to.
Tiero closes the last inch slowly, his eyes fixed on me. His nose brushes against mine, a soft, almost tentative touch, before he presses a light kiss to its tip.
I should stop him; I really should.
“Ella,” he all but moans.
My back arches slightly at the way he says my name.
I pull my head back just enough to see his face. My knees nearly wobble at the desire blazing there.
I’m drowning in his stare, my core beginning to throb, my breasts becoming heavy and aching.
Tiero’s nostrils flare. He shifts closer again, his lips grazing my cheek, leaving a trail of gentle, unhurried kisses as he moves along my jaw, never rushing, never forcing, still giving me time to pull away.
I don’t take the out.
I shouldn’t have let him this close. But I can’t withdraw, too caught in his orbit.
Anticipation thrums through my veins, my pulse hammering in my chest as his mouth gets ever closer to mine. The urge to press my body into his, to feel his warmth, nearly overwrites every rational thought.
A moment later, his lips finally find mine, soft at first, barely there.
They’re warm and familiar. A shiver runs through me.
“Angel,” he murmurs, his voice low as he deepens the kiss.
His lips linger this time, not just brushing, but pressing, coaxing.
I feel it everywhere.
My breath stutters as he tilts his head, changing the angle, his mouth moving more deliberately against mine, drawing me in, leaving no space to think. His hand tightens slightly where it holds me, anchoring me in place.
I should end this… now.
Instead, my fingers curl into his shirt, his pounding heartbeat beneath my touch.
And then I’m responding.
My lips part under his, my hesitation slipping away. The kiss turns warmer, fuller, and something inside me unravels, thread by thread.
No, worse. I lean into him, closer, letting myself sink into the familiar rhythm of him and the way he takes, the way I answer on instinct.
It’s so damn good, it makes my toes curl.
My arms slide around his neck, my body fitting against his as if it remembers exactly where it belongs.
He groans softly, his hands moving over me. One settles in my hair, holding me in place as his mouth claims mine more deeply, while the other presses at my hip, pulling me flush against him.
The heat of him, his scent, his taste… it hits me all at once.
I want more.
More of him. More of this. More of everything I know I shouldn’t want.
Another explosion from Stromboli cracks through the air behind us.
It’s enough to wake me up from the spell his kiss put me under.
What the hell am I doing?
I pull back immediately, stumbling a step away from him, putting distance between us like it might fix what just happened.
Tiero doesn’t follow. He just watches me, silent, his expression unreadable. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Knows how close I am to slipping.
Shit.
I drag in a breath, steadying myself. I’m not going to spiral over this.
It was one moment of vulnerability. That’s all.
There won’t be a repeat.
I won’t lose myself to him again.
Easier said than done.
Focus, Ella. Focus.
After that, I keep my distance, a careful, deliberate space between us.
Gualtiero doesn’t try to get closer again. Like when we first met, he plays tourist guide, telling me about the history of the Aeolian Islands, about Stromboli erupting for nearly two thousand years, and about the five hundred people who actually live there.
Who is crazy enough to live on an island with an active volcano?
The smoke alone would be enough for me to stay far away, let alone the glowing bursts of lava shooting into the sky.
The rest of the day passes quickly, and I hate to admit it, but I’m enjoying myself.
Tiero and I laugh and talk. For stretches of time, it feels like before.
Like nothing ever broke.
There’s an unspoken agreement between us not to mention the nightclub, not to touch that ugly moment. It’s easier that way.
But despite the enjoyable day and Tiero’s lighter mood, something seems to simmer beneath the surface.
Gualtiero is tense. It’s subtle, but I notice. Especially after the phone call he took earlier. It shifted something in him.
Whatever is going on, it’s serious. He tries to hide it, but I see it. And despite everything, I can’t stop myself from worrying.
He catches me watching him, and a soft smile curves his lips.
“Everything will be fine. There’s no need to worry, princess,” he says as if reading my mind.
I’m not convinced. Even if I don’t want to care, I hate seeing him like this.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
He shakes his head. “No, cuore mio. It’s business. I don’t want you involved.”
I huff quietly at that. As if I’m not already tangled up in all of this just by being here.
“I could do with a hug, though,” he says.
That catches me off guard.
I let out a small laugh. The big, intimidating don is asking for comfort, and I find I can’t deny him. It’s probably the first time he’s ever asked for one.
I step toward him, and he draws me gently onto his lap. My arms wrap around his shoulders, his sliding around my waist, holding me close.
We sit like that in silence.
There’s no urgency, no sign of our earlier heat.
Just… closeness.
It feels like home. And that terrifies me.
But not enough to pull away. That terrifies me even more.
I can’t be part of this world. Of him.
What he does, what he stands for, it goes against everything I believe in, everything I was raised to value.
So how did I end up here?
A hostage. Alone.
And in love with the man who took my freedom.