Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Bianca had been with Mia for a week before her birthday arrived, and the days had unfolded like something out of a dream.
They spent long mornings walking along the beach, their bare feet sinking into sun-warmed sand as gulls cried overhead.
In the afternoons, they lounged beneath a striped umbrella, sipping pina coladas laced with Jamaican rum.
Mia was hopeless at drinking—her tolerance laughably low—and more than once Luc had come to find her flushed and giggling.
He’d scoop her into his arms, and she would wrap her legs around his hips, pressing teasing kisses along his jaw until he carried her upstairs.
She never remembered falling asleep, only waking tangled in his arms, her skin still tingling from his touch.
Sometimes, she caught Bianca watching them with an expression that flickered between envy and something softer—hunger, maybe, for the kind of connection Mia wasn’t sure she even understood.
The day before the birthday celebration, they’d gone on a shopping spree through the boutiques in East Hampton.
Six bodyguards shadowed their every move, a constant reminder of the world Mia now lived in.
She had grown used to their quiet vigilance, the way they melted into the background but were always there.
Oddly, it made her feel warm and safe—because it meant Luc was watching over her, even when he wasn’t beside her.
Now, Mia reclined on a lounge chair by the pool, a tall glass of lemonade sweating beside her.
Her swimsuit was a soft cream silk one-piece that shimmered like liquid light in the sun.
The deep V neckline left her skin kissed by warmth, and the sea breeze lifted tendrils of her dark hair, carrying the faint scent of salt and coconut oil.
“He adores you,” Bianca said softly from the chair beside her, swirling her drink with the straw. “And indulges your every whim.”
Mia choked on the lemonade, coughing as she pushed her dark glasses up onto her head. “Why do you say that?”
Bianca laughed lightly. “Do you not see the way that man looks at you? As if he wants to devour you whole.”
“That’s lust, not love,” Mia said quietly, though her heart tightened at the words.
Bianca’s gaze softened. “You want him to love you.”
“Yes.”
“Because you’re already falling.”
Mia’s throat constricted. She stared out at the endless blue of the sea, her voice barely a whisper. “So deep, Bee, that it frightens me. I don’t know what love would even mean to a man like Luc.”
“That man feels more than lust for you,” Bianca said gently.
“Yesterday you mentioned wanting to send money to the convent, and he wrote a check for five million without blinking. You said you wanted to visit the children, and he told you he’d have it arranged.
I think whatever you ask of him, he’d find a way to give you. ”
Mia smiled faintly. “Then we’ll see if he allows us to go clubbing for your birthday.”
“Why do you look like that?” Bianca asked, studying her.
Mia sighed and looked down at the rippling water.
“I hate that I have to ask permission to go anywhere. It makes me feel as if I have no autonomy. But I also know he needs to plan ahead—to protect me. I understand that. Still, I can’t shake this disbelief that this is my life now.
I can’t walk down a street or visit a gallery without guards at my side. Someone wants me dead, Bee.”
Her voice faltered, then softened. “I want children one day. But how do I raise them in this world? Their father can kill more easily than smile. And he expects his son—or daughter—to inherit that empire of blood. How do I tell him I could never bear to raise a child into that?”
Bianca sighed and reached over, squeezing her hand. “Then let’s not linger on that, not today. It’s my birthday week, and tonight we’re going to dance. Try on those dresses we picked out and practice the sweet smile you’ll use to convince your husband to let us go.”
Mia laughed softly despite the heaviness in her chest, the sound blending with the sea breeze and the distant hum of waves.
The morning of Bianca’s birthday dawned with an unfamiliar lightness.
Mia stood by the window, watching the sun spill gold across the city skyline.
Birthdays at the convent had been quiet, simple things—homemade cakes, candlelight, whispered laughter that faded beneath stone arches.
She wouldn’t let this one pass without joy.
She found Luc in his study, his brow furrowed over a spreadsheet, sleeves rolled up, the morning light cutting across his face in sharp planes of shadow and gold.
“Luc,” she said.
He didn’t look up immediately. A beat passed—then two. When his gaze lifted, that piercing focus landed on her, the one that always made her pulse falter.
“I’ve arranged everything for your clubbing adventure with Bianca,” he said.
Mia blinked. “Just like that?”
His lips quirked. “Did you think I’d say no?”
“I wasn’t sure.”
He leaned back, studying her with quiet amusement. “The things you want, mia colombina, are important to me.”
Mia smiled, crossing to him. She sank into his lap, straddling him, feeling the tension in his body beneath her palms.
“You’re determined to distract me today,” he murmured, his voice roughening.
“No,” she whispered, brushing her mouth against his. “Just a kiss.”
“Nothing is ever just a kiss with you—”
She silenced him with her lips. The kiss deepened quickly, heat sparking between them.
His taste filled her—coffee, mint, and something darker, purely Luc.
She parted for him, welcoming the slow stroke of his tongue that sent a tremor through her body.
Her fingers slid into his hair, gripping tighter when his hand curved around her hip, anchoring her to him.
A low sound escaped her—half sigh, half plea—as the kiss grew hungrier. She could feel the sharp edge of his restraint, how close he was to losing it, and it thrilled her. It always did.
When she finally drew back, her lips felt swollen, her breath uneven. Her heart raced so hard she was certain he could feel it against his chest.
Luc rested his forehead against hers, his voice rough. “You call that just a kiss?”
Her laugh came soft and breathless. Mia shimmied off his lap, laughter bubbling in her chest as she ran from his office to find Bianca.
That night, the club throbbed with life.
Hidden behind mirrored glass and velvet ropes, it was one of those places reserved for the powerful and the reckless—men who sealed deals with a handshake and a threat, women draped in diamonds and danger.
The bass pulsed low, steady as a heartbeat, while smoke and colored lights curled through the air like whispers of temptation.
Mia felt the music before she even saw the dance floor. The beat slid over her skin, wrapping her in rhythm as the world glittered around her—crystal chandeliers, velvet booths, champagne flutes catching light like liquid fire.
She’d dressed daringly tonight. Her gown was a deep sapphire silk that hugged her curves and left her back bare to the small of her spine.
A daring slit climbed high on her thigh, revealing long legs accentuated by the silver stilettos she’d spent days practicing in under Bianca’s watchful coaching.
Each step had been a challenge, but now she moved with effortless grace.
The heels made her feel taller, stronger—like a woman fully inhabiting her power.
From their private loft, she sipped a cocktail laced with citrus and vodka, savoring the tart sting on her tongue. Below, Bianca twirled on the dance floor with her boyfriend Tony, her sequined dress scattering light like shards of glass.
“This club is amazing!” Bianca shouted as she bounded back up to their section, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe Luc actually let us come here—it’s packed!”
Mia smiled, though her chest tightened a little. “I see at least eight of our men,” she said softly. The subtle gleam of earpieces and tailored jackets confirmed it—Luc’s presence lingered even in his absence.
Her gaze caught on Tony’s friend Mario, who had been watching her all evening with lazy confidence. When he edged closer, Carlos appeared at her side like a living shadow, his expression so cold it could cut glass. Mia tilted her head slightly, a silent signal—she was fine.
“Wanna dance?” Mario asked, already taking a step back under Carlos’s glare.
Mia gave a polite smile. “Two left feet.”
Tony shot Mario a warning look—stand down—before steering him away.
Bianca appeared again, flushed and laughing, her hand closing around Mia’s wrist. “Come on! Dance with me!”
Mia hesitated only a second before giving in, setting her drink down and letting her friend pull her toward the pulsing crowd below.
The floor vibrated beneath her heels, the air thick with heat, perfume, and bass.
She moved tentatively at first, then freer, her hips swaying to the beat, her body finding its rhythm.
The silk of her dress slid against her thighs as she raised her arms, laughing when Bianca spun her.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Mia forgot to be cautious.
The music drowned out everything—fear, worry, even Luc’s shadow.
Her heart raced, her skin flushed, and she let herself get lost in the light and sound—alive, reckless, and entirely her own.
Carlos materialized at Mia’s elbow, his usual granite expression tighter than usual. “Boss wants you upstairs.”
Mia’s heart skipped. “Luc is here?”
She followed Carlos’s gaze upward—and there he was.