Chapter 9
ADRIANO
I push Eva against the wall, pinning her with my body as I deepen the kiss.
She tastes exactly like I remember, sweet with a hint of spice. Her soft gasp vibrates against my lips, fueling the fire blazing through my veins.
My hands find her waist, then slide lower, gripping her hips possessively. Four years of believing she was dead, of mourning what could have been, and now she's here, real and warm beneath my touch.
I trail kisses down her neck, breathing in her scent as she arches against me. When she tugs at my shirt, I growl low in my throat.
The hallway is too exposed. Anyone could walk by, a guard, my brother, a servant. And I need privacy for what I plan to do to her.
I want to devour her whole, reclaim everything that was stolen from me. I'll mark her, brand her, remind her that she was always mine.
I'll pin her wrists above her head, watch her eyes cloud with desire as I take my time fucking her torturously slow, making her beg before I give her what we both need.
I'll worship her until she forgets anyone but me has ever touched her.
Until she can't remember why she left.
But beneath this raw hunger burns something deeper. I want to punish her for leaving, for hiding our daughter. For breaking the man I used to be.
I pull back suddenly, oxygen rushing to my head as I break the kiss. Eva's eyes are wide, lips still parted, confusion flashing across her face.
What the hell am I doing?
The warmth of her touch is still burning into my skin, but colder emotions flood through me now. Betrayal. Anger. Four years of grief that didn't need to exist.
"Adriano?" Her voice is soft, uncertain.
I step back, creating distance between us. "No."
She left me. Made me believe she was dead. Let me mourn her while she was out there somewhere, raising my daughter without me. My daughter who doesn't even know I exist.
"This was a mistake," I say.
"I'm sorry.” At this moment, I think she is, but I’m not going to fall for it.
"Sorry? Which part are you sorry for, Eva? The part where you faked your death? Or maybe the part where you kept my child from me for three years?"
Her face falls. "I had no choice."
"There's always a choice." My voice is hard as steel now. "You chose to run from me. You'd still be running if I hadn't found you. Hell, you’d be running from me if you could." That burns too. After everything, she’d slip away again.
I shake my head, stepping back further. My pulse pounds in my ears as I rebuild the walls that started to crumble with a single kiss.
“I didn’t want to—”
"I can't do this, Eva. Do you have any idea what it did to me when I heard you were dead?"
She reaches for me, but I hold up a hand to stop her.
"I mourned you." I hate giving her so much power over me. "I hunted down every lead, tortured anyone who might have information about what happened to you."
"Adriano—"
I laugh derisively as I realize that my feelings were stronger than hers. What a putz. "I won't let myself get caught up in whatever this is again. But make no mistake, I won't miss a single day more of being Mirabella's father."
Her spine straightens, hackles rising. "Your father pushed me out. He threatened to kill me and our baby."
"And you couldn't trust me enough to tell me? To let me protect you?"
Her shoulders slump, the fight leaving her as quickly as it came. "I was young and scared. I understand how you feel. I'd be furious too. And the truth is, I’m not the same woman you knew.”
I study her face and see the wariness that wasn't there before.
She's harder now, more guarded.
There's a sharpness to her now.
Running and fighting for survival will do that to a person.
But then she bites her lip, a gesture so familiar, it stops my breath.
And I know she's wrong.
The woman I fell in love with is still there, and that's why I need to be careful.
Because if I'm not… I'll fall again.
Hard and fast and completely.
Just like before.
I give a curt nod. "Get some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow."
I need to get out of here before I do something else that I'll regret like pulling her back into my arms and pretending none of it ever happened.
I turn and head to my room, looking back only when I hear the click of her door closing.
That woman has the power to ruin me again.
I enter my room hating how the taste of her lingers on my lips, making me want to finish what I'd started.
Fuck.
I strip off my jacket, throwing it across a chair, then yank my gun from its holster and place it on the nightstand.
My hands are shaking.
Me, Adriano Dante, the man who's killed without blinking, tortured without remorse, shaking like some lovesick teenager.
The shower calls to me.
Maybe I can wash her away.
Hot water pounds against my skin.
I close my eyes, letting my head fall forward as my hands brace me against the tile wall.
Eva’s alive.
Not just alive, but here, under my roof.
Eva with my daughter.
I have a daughter.
Mirabella.
Three years.
Three fucking years I missed.
First steps.
First words.
Birthdays.
The anger returns, and it offers some solace. It’s an emotion I know well. I've built my life around it since Eva "died".
I allowed it to consume me, to reshape me into something harder, darker, crueler.
This is what I need to hold on to. I can’t let her get under my skin, into my heart.
But even as I think that, the memory of Eva's kiss breaks through. The softness of her lips, the little gasp she made when I pushed her against the door.
How perfectly she still fits against me, like she was made for my hands alone.
My blood heats, rushing downward to my dick.
"Goddammit," I growl, slamming my palm against the wall.
I'm hard. Have been since I kissed her, if I'm honest.
The rage and desire twisting into something dangerous, something I shouldn't indulge.
But I'm alone now.
My hand drifts down, wrapping around my cock as I close my eyes again.
In my mind, Eva isn't walking away.
She's here, in this shower with me, her naked body pressed against mine as water sluices between us.
I stroke myself slowly at first, remembering the taste of her neck, the feel of her under many hands. In my fantasy, I lift her against the shower wall, her legs wrapping around my waist as I thrust into her. She's tight and wet for me.
My strokes quickening as I imagine her nails digging into my shoulders, her head thrown back in pleasure until she screams my name.
The fantasy shifts.
She’s on her knees, my dick sliding between her lips.
My breath comes faster, my hand working furiously now.
In my mind, I’m fucking her mouth, whispering filthy words.
"Fuck," I groan as the pressure builds. I'm close, so close—
I come with Eva's name on my lips, my cum washing away down the drain. For a moment, I stand panting.
Then reality crashes back.
Eva isn't mine anymore, might never truly have been.
I shut off the water with a vicious twist.
The fantasy fades, leaving only the truth.
Eva let me believe she was dead.
She kept my daughter from me for years.
Whatever we had is gone.
But Mirabella, she's my blood.
My child.
And no one, not even her mother, will keep her from me again.