7. Un Po’ Pazzo
Un Po’ Pazzo
“She left?”
“Si, Signor Buccini. But she did give me her name.” I waited, my heart doing a strange little dance in anticipation. “Aria.”
Aria. Bellissima.
“Grazie, Mario. Have the security team email me the CCTV footage.”
There was a pause. “Of her asking for the necklace?”
“Si,” I answered without missing a beat.
Was it slightly obsessive? Probably, but I didn’t give a fuck.
I hadn't been able to stop thinking about her for more than ten seconds. How could I when the sky reminded me of her eyes? Or how she laughed so hard after I made her come with my ABCs that she let out an unfiltered snort that shouldn’t have been the cutest damn thing I'd ever heard. As well as her moans. And because I couldn’t get her out of my damn head, that's how I knew this was the woman I'd been waiting my whole life to meet.
It took a lot to capture my attention and even more to hold it.
So I was going to follow my gut with this one and give it everything.
Some might say I'm un po' pazzo, but that was nothing new. I owned my craziness, and I’d replayed the video of her hugging her friend in the lobby too many times.
It would be nice to have some new content to obsess over.
After hanging up, I pocketed my phone and strolled through my penthouse to the walk-in wardrobe.
The black tuxedo I planned to wear that evening was already hung up, tailored, and steamed.
I strode past it and into my bathroom, turning on the rainfall shower and letting the room fill with the scent of the citrus-infused water.
After undressing, removing her necklace, and hanging it on the door handle, I checked my emails and smirked when I saw the video footage already in my inbox.
Aria strutted through the lobby in pin-striped fitted trousers that hugged her curves perfectly and a slightly creased pink blouse with the top few buttons undone.
I paused the video of her mid-walk before she reached the front desk and zoomed in on her face.
The image wasn’t crystal clear, so I couldn’t appreciate the stunning blue of her eyes, but the rest of her feminine features were enough to make my dick jolt.
Her full lips were darker than when she was in the spa; a deep rose colour that contrasted with her lightly tanned skin.
Her blonde hair wasn’t piled on top of her head either, but cascading down her back in natural waves.
Fuck me. She was stunning. And this grainy image wasn’t even doing her beauty justice.
I glanced down at my pierced cock, smirking at how excited it was to see her again.
I balanced the phone at an angle against the wall so I could keep staring at her while I brushed my teeth and ignored the raging boner that wouldn’t be getting any attention from me.
No, this dick belonged to her now and only her.
Aria. La mia bella ribelle.
She looked like an angel, even disguised herself as one to the rest of the world, but I saw the truth when my face was buried between her legs. She was a good girl who wanted bad things. A rebel at heart.
I pressed play on the video, toothbrush hanging out of my mouth.
I watched with fascination as she interacted with Mario.
I couldn’t hear anything, but I was entranced by every movement of her lips, wondering what that smoky rose lipstick tasted like.
It would look perfect smeared all over my cock.
I groaned when it agreed with me, jolting and thickening.
The temptation to wrap my fist around it and fuck myself with thoughts of those lips on me was nearly unbearable.
But I wasn’t a weak man. I’d wait for the real thing.
When Mario was on the phone with me, she peered over her shoulder at someone.
I froze, tension tightening the frown lines on my face when I noticed the huge guy in faded jeans and a black T-shirt standing too close to her.
Did she know him? Why the hell was he so close to her? Who the fuck did I need to kill?
The conversation continued with Mario, but I couldn’t even enjoy the cute little thump she gave against the desk when she realised she wouldn’t be getting her necklace because GI Asshole spoke to her.
And then they left together. Possessiveness and anger sparked in my chest as I tried to figure out who he could be.
Better not be that cheating ex-boyfriend of hers.
I took a screenshot of his face, and although he was wearing sunglasses, my tech wizard would eventually identify him, just as he would Aria. I also took a close-up of her and then sent both images to Nero, asking for IDs, addresses, places of work, and so on.
Walking beneath the steady flow of hot, scented water, I tried to banish the thought of her with another man from my mind. He was irrelevant regardless. She was mine the moment she walked into that spa. She might not realise it yet, but she would soon.
Until then, I needed to focus on sorting out the headache that was Mayor Piero Caruso.
While Gio and Alessio would deal with the fallout from the arrests and the shipment loss, I was determined to prove I had this under control.
Caruso just needed a nudge in the right direction to get on our side.
He was attending a charity fundraiser for the city hospital tonight, so I was going to make an appearance, and we would have a friendly little chat.
Checking myself in the mirror, I realised something was missing from my outfit.
Her necklace. I placed it around my neck, subtly hiding it beneath my shirt but leaving the collar slightly open so I knew it was always there.
I was guarding it with my damn life, and it wouldn’t leave my sight until she removed it herself.
Taking the lift down to the underground garage that housed all my toys, I chose my favourite for the night: my MV Agusta Superveloce 1000 Serie Oro, a limited edition motorbike.
Only five hundred of these babies exist in the world.
It was a collector’s dream, but I refused to keep this beauty hidden.
It was meant to be cherished and admired.
Just like a woman. It wasn’t the kind of bike you owned. It owned you.
I swung my leg over the seat, straddling the thick machine as I ran my hand over its scarlet curves, getting excited by the way the deep red and gold caught the light before I tugged on my leather gloves.
Hitting the top of my helmet, I knocked the black mirrored visor down and basked in the vibrations and the engine’s growl.
The automatic gate lifted, and I sped out into the cool evening air, tearing down the narrow roads of my city.
I preferred not to be chauffeured by my men all the time.
Instead, their cars trailed behind me at a distance but stayed close enough to have eyes on my blind spots.
Tonight, I’d be going to this public event alone.
I didn’t want the attention my armed soldiers attracted, and I was under no illusion that I was the most dangerous man in Rome.
I was the predator they should all be afraid of, so what was the point?
And what was Piero Caruso going to do? Murder me with his morals?
He had nothing on me that would stand up in a court of law, and he knew it.
Nothing yet, anyway. But he was getting close. Closer than I liked.
Slipping down the narrow side street that kept one of Rome’s hidden gems tucked away from view, I parked outside the historic venue hosting tonight’s charity fundraiser.
My men pulled up behind me to watch my bike and stay alert.
I threw them my keys and helmet, then walked around to the entrance.
Climbing the pale travertine marble steps, I ran my hand over the thick column that had been worn smooth by centuries of Roman rain and secrets.
I loved this city. I loved the way it breathed for no one but itself.
If only these buildings could tell the stories they’d seen.
Inside, the golden light shimmered through crystal chandeliers that hung like mini constellations above polished marble floors.
I took a glass of champagne from the welcome table and scanned the auction items. This gala was like any other: a parade of wealth disguised as generosity.
The politicians, influencers, board members, and doctors gathered together in the pretence of a shared goal to improve public health for citizens, but they all knew it meant more than that.
They were here for themselves. A trip to the Bahamas, exclusive access to a romantic Michelin-starred dinner for two in the Roman ruins by candlelight, or a donation that came with a favour.
A handshake with a hidden deal. That was how this world worked, and my presence here was no exception.
I picked up the pen, filled out my donation card, and posted it into the locked box.
“Signor Buccini, what a pleasure to see you. Looking like royalty as always.” Signora Valtibino, one of the hospital board members, strutted towards me in her elegant ball gown, dripping in diamonds.
She, like most guests, knew me as a respected member of elite society.
An entrepreneur and one of the wealthiest men in the city.
“Would your presence here mean we can look forward to receiving a generous donation tonight?”
I took her hand and brushed my lips over the back of it. “Of course, you know me and my weakness for a good cause.” My cheeky smile made her eyes gleam.
“You are too kind.” She beamed, slipping her arm through mine as we headed up the stairs to the entrance of the ballroom. String music floated through the vaulted hall, blending with soft conversations and clinking glasses. The scent in the air was a mixture of roses, history, and old money.
“Are you here alone, or is there a lucky lady with you?”
“Alone, unfortunately,” I replied, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of Piero Caruso among the beautifully dressed people standing around tall tables. “Business only tonight.”
“Oh?” She leaned into my ear, her overpowering perfume assaulting my senses. “Perhaps I can help with that. My daughter is here somewhere, and I’m sure she’d be delighted to join you on the dance floor.”
I was about to let her down gently with a ‘I don’t dance’ excuse when a flash of wavy blonde hair sliced through the crowd. A man stepped in front of her, blocking my view, but it didn’t matter. I already knew.
Every instinct in me fell still. My heart beat a little faster. The noise of the room faded, and people’s faces blurred as I focused on that one point, waiting.
The man shifted, and there she was, shining like a ray of pure fucking sunshine among storm clouds. Her golden hair swayed down her bare back as she tilted her head, a soft laugh slipping out. The warm chandelier light hit those diamond eyes like a spotlight, and I forgot my entire purpose.
I didn’t move. Or speak. I just watched with a slow, devious smile because what were the chances my beautiful rebel would be here tonight?
I didn’t believe in fate. You made your own fortune in life, but this…
it felt like the universe had finally stopped wasting my time and said, there…
There she is. Go get her. She’s yours to corrupt.
Because that’s what I’d do. There was no doubt in my mind that a woman this pure would be tainted by a man like me. But I’d make sure she’d love every second of her fall from heaven.
I lifted the champagne flute to my lips, watching her smile politely at the group she was with, listening to their every word with animated nods and timidly laughing at their shitty jokes.
She was too composed. Everything about the way she stood, the expression she wore, and the way she smiled felt forced.
She didn’t look as real as she had in that massage room.
The surface-level conversations were boring her.
It was subtle; maybe she wasn’t even aware, but I saw it in the way her eyes lacked their sparkle.
I’d seen the irresistible pull she felt towards danger, towards doing something she knew she shouldn’t but couldn’t help herself. She was searching for more.
And I was right here.
“Scusa, Signora,” I said, pulling away from Signora Valtibino’s grasp. “There’s someone I need to rescue. Have a good night.”
Moving through the crowd, never taking my eyes off Aria, I found a space at an empty table in her direct eyeline and leaned an elbow against it, giving myself the perfect view.
That’s when I noticed who most of her polite smiles and sweet giggles were aimed at.
The man standing beside her, Callum D’Ardenzi, my biggest competitor in my front businesses.
In the past year, as he climbed to the top ranks of the real estate scene, he had quickly become the talk of the city, ensuring everyone knew his name by immersing himself in every social event, becoming the Mayor’s favourite contractor, and showcasing himself as the city’s Golden Boy.
He built hotels and restaurants for the rich and famous, but also developed social housing schemes to support the less fortunate.
He was squeaky clean, and it was fucking annoying.
My smile dropped when he stared at Aria’s face, his lips curling into a wide grin and his eyes sparking with interest as she spoke.
He looked enraptured by her, and I wanted to pluck his eyes from his sockets with blunt forks for even daring to look at what was mine.
Her gaze flicked in my direction briefly, then snapped back with alarm. She had to do a double take, and I smirked, enjoying the sight of that blush making its debut on the smooth skin of her neck. Our gazes locked—hers wide and disbelieving, mine teasing and playful.
I raised my flute of champagne in the air in a silent toast to our future. The one that was just about to start.