Chapter twenty-one
Vincenzo's arms encase me, anchoring me to him as though I belong there.
One strong hand rests firmly on my lower back, the other cupping beneath my thighs, effortlessly keeping me against him.
The warmth of his body seeps into mine, lulling me into a rare state of peace.
His steady breathing lifts and lowers my body gently with each inhale and exhale, and for a moment, I allow myself the indulgence of simply existing in his embrace.
He looks so peaceful like this—so unguarded, without the weight of his empire pressing down on his shoulders. His face, usually sharp with authority and control, is softened in sleep. I can't help but let a small, wistful smile creep onto my lips.
I shouldn't crave him like this. I shouldn't yearn for the way his touch ignites something deep inside me, something dangerous and all-consuming. But I do. From the very first time his hands found my skin, I've wanted more. I've needed more. And that terrifies me.
Because this man—this ruthless, powerful man—tore me from my family. Stole me away like I was nothing more than a chess piece to be placed on his board for a blood alliance. I should hate him for that. But instead, all I feel is... conflicted.
Vincenzo shifts beneath me, his head tilting slightly until our noses barely brush. A faint smirk ghosts his lips before his deep brown eyes flicker open, still hazy with sleep.
"Buongiorno, guai," he murmurs, his voice thick and laced with amusement.
Heat floods my cheeks at the nickname. Trouble. He always calls me that. And maybe he's right—I do seem to bring chaos wherever I go. I quickly avert my gaze, embarrassed by how easily he affects me.
Burying my face in the crook of his neck, I mumble, "Good morning."
His chest vibrates with a quiet chuckle, and I squeeze my eyes shut, suddenly hyper-aware of our position.
His arms are still wrapped around me, and my body is still pressed intimately against his.
I should move. I should say something. But my traitorous body doesn't want to leave the warmth of his.
Then reality crashes in.
I can't let him see how much I enjoy this. What if he regrets last night? What if this was nothing to him? My stomach knots at the thought, and in a panic, I shift off him, lowering my gaze.
"Where are you going?" His voice is gentle but firm, his fingers reaching out as if to pull me back. "Are you okay?"
I force a smile, nodding quickly. "I just remembered—I have to help with, uh... breakfast."
His brows furrow. "Why? We have chefs for that."
Shit. Think, Alexa. Think.
"Yeah, but we have high-society guests coming today, remember?" I blurt out, grasping at anything that sounds reasonable. "I need to make sure everything's perfect. You know, for appearances."
He studies me for a moment, as if he can sense the lie lurking beneath my words, but then he shrugs.
"Alright," he concedes.
Relieved, I scramble off the bed. "I should go get changed before helping. See you later!" I flash him a quick smile before practically running out of the room.
As soon as I'm in the safety of my own bedroom, I exhale sharply, pressing my back against the door. My skin is still buzzing from his touch, my body already missing the heat of his.
Get it together, Alexa.
Shaking my head, I move to my wardrobe, grabbing a white wrap dress.
It's elegant yet subtle, perfect for brunch.
I slip into the bathroom, freshening up before securing my hair into a neat bun.
In the mirror, I examine my reflection, biting my lip before fastening a delicate gold necklace around my neck.
The diamond pendant rests just above my collarbone, drawing attention to the soft neckline of my dress.
A swipe of dark red lipstick, a touch of eyeliner, and a coat of gloss complete the look.
Sliding my feet into a pair of black Louis Vuitton heels, the signature red bottoms flashing with each step, I make my way down to the kitchen. The moment I enter, a young maid curtsies, and I frown.
"Please, don't do that," I say softly. "I'm not the Queen. Just a regular person like you."
She hesitates before nodding, quickly returning to her work.
The familiar scent of fresh pastries, eggs, and Italian spices fills the air as I approach Anna, the head chef and events manager.
"Hey, Anna, is there anything I can do to help?" I ask, eager to be useful.
She glances up from her work, her expression polite but firm. "You don't need to do anything, Mrs. Lombardo. But if you insist, the cutlery needs arranging."
I sigh dramatically. "We've been over this—call me Alexa. Mrs. Lombardo makes me feel ancient."
Anna smirks but doesn't argue, and I grab the polished silverware before heading into the dining room.
The room is stunning, the deep mahogany table gleaming under the soft glow of the chandelier. Every setting is flawless, the plates and crystal glasses meticulously arranged. I carefully place the cutlery, ensuring everything is perfect.
I need this brunch to go well.
The mayor is already suspicious of Vincenzo's wealth, and if anything seems even slightly off, it could spell disaster. There are too many enemies lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to take him down.
I won't let that happen.
No matter what it takes, I will protect what's mine.
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