21. Adriano
The rest of the gala passes in a blur of conversation I barely register. I answer questions, I shake hands, I even smile when required. But my attention keeps pulling back toward the balcony and the way Casey kissed me like she wanted me as badly as I wanted her.
Christ.
That fucking kiss has me harder than rock. My cock is aching to be inside her, to feel her tense around me as she comes. It’s a terrible idea, but one I’m not sure I can walk away from either. She consumes me in a way no other woman ever has.
Every time I look at her, something in me tightens all over again. If it were up to me, I would have taken her home the second we left the balcony, but we were cornered by Nico and Izzy, pulled away to charm investors and smooth a few of the rumors circulating thanks to Jasper fucking Cole.
I glance over at her for the hundredth time, my attention hyper-focused on her in that dress.
She looks fucking beautiful. It’s not just the way the dress hugs her curves or teases at her warm skin; it’s everything.
The flush of her cheeks, the curls of hair against her neck.
The way she laughs and smiles. I think I might be fucked.
She’s quieter now, standing near Isabella while Nico talks passionately with one of the event coordinators about arrangements for something three months away, her champagne glass balanced lightly between elegant fingers.
The flush hasn’t entirely left her cheeks yet.
I can still see the remnants of it beneath the soft gold lighting every time she glances in my direction and quickly away.
And knowing I’m the reason for it is doing dangerous things to my ability to think clearly.
“You’ve been staring at her for twenty minutes.”
Matteo’s voice cuts quietly through my thoughts as he steps beside me near the bar, whiskey in hand.
“I haven’t.” Yet even at his words, I can’t drag my eyes away from her.
He looks unconvinced. “Mm.”
I ignore him, adjusting the cuff of my jacket instead while my gaze drifts straight back to Casey against my better judgement. She’s like a drug, an obsession I can’t quit.
She laughs softly at something Isabella says, her head tipping back slightly, and my entire body reacts with immediate, frustrating awareness.
Matteo follows my line of sight.
Then exhales through his nose like a man watching a runaway train approach from very far away. “Oh, you’re gone.”
“I’m standing right here.”
“You know what I mean.”
Unfortunately, I do.
That’s the problem.
Because this stopped being something I can ignore at midnight in Aspen and has steadily become worse ever since.
Worse with every quiet morning coffee, every late-night conversation in the kitchen, every smile she gives Letty, every sarcastic comment muttered under her breath when Matteo inevitably says something irritating.
And significantly worse after tonight.
After that balcony.
After the way she looked at me when I kissed her.
“She kissed you back then?” Matteo asks casually.
I glance at him sharply.
His mouth twitches. “You look less homicidal than usual. I’m making assumptions. Plus, I’m a big snoop and saw you two on the balcony.”
I frown, not liking the idea of anyone else seeing her so uninhibited. “She kissed me first, and you shouldn’t be spying on people.”
That makes my brother laugh out loud. “Brother, information gathering is literally my job in this family,” he says, then sobers after a moment. “Listen, she likes you. You like her. What’s the problem?”
Before I can respond, Casey looks up across the room and catches me watching her again.
This time, neither of us looks away immediately.
The noise of the ballroom fades strangely around the edges for a second, her expression softening just slightly before her gaze drops to my mouth and heat punches low through my chest so hard it almost feels violent.
Jesus Christ.
I finish the rest of my whiskey in one swallow.
Matteo watches me with open amusement now. “I’m so going to win this bet.”
“Bet?” I ask with a frown.
He waves me away. “Forget about it. Go get your girl before someone else snaps her up.”
The possessive response that rises instantly in my chest is irrational, but intense. The thought of someone else touching her makes me feel homicidal.
I set my empty glass down harder than necessary and turn back toward the ballroom.
Casey is standing near the center of the room now beside Isabella, one hand curled loosely around the stem of her champagne glass, while Laney, Eddie’s wife, talks animatedly beside her.
The gold light from the chandeliers catches against the dark green silk wrapped around her body, and for a second, I just watch her laugh at something Isabella says, my chest aching with something I can’t name.
Fuck it.
I’m done fighting this.
As though she feels me looking, her gaze lifts across the room and catches mine immediately. The shift in her expression is subtle, but it’s there: awareness, heat. The same unbearable tension that’s been pulling tighter between us all night.
I cross the room before I can reconsider it, ignoring people who try to engage with me.
Isabella notices first, because of course she does. Her eyes flick between us once before she hides a smile behind her champagne glass and says something quietly to Nico.
Nico turns, takes one look at my face, and smirks. “Come, Bella,” he says lightly, already reaching for her hand. “We’re leaving.”
Casey blinks. “What?”
“It’s time I got my wife home. She looks tired,” Nico replies.
“Izzy?”
“Goodnight.”
Isabella squeezes Casey’s arm as she passes, her expression suspiciously pleased. “Try not to overthink things for once.”
Casey narrows her eyes immediately. “I hate all of you.”
“Love you too,” Isabella calls.
A few seconds later, we’re alone in the middle of the thinning ballroom, the orchestra playing softly somewhere behind us while Casey looks up at me with color still high in her cheeks. She’s truly the most beautiful woman in the room, and she has no clue.
“Your family is weird,” she mutters.
“You’ll fit in perfectly.”
The words leave my mouth before I fully think them through.
Her expression changes instantly, vulnerability etched over her features again. She’s scared and, honestly, so am I. I don’t know what this means or what we’re doing. All I know is I can’t go another night without her in my arms.
I step closer. “Come on, let’s go home,” I say quietly, hiding none of the desperation I feel for her.
This time, when I offer her my hand—she takes it.
By the time we leave the hotel, Manhattan is slick with rain and midnight traffic, the city glowing gold and silver beneath wet streets and blurred headlights.
Casey slides into the back of the car beside me in silence, smoothing her dress carefully beneath her legs while the driver pulls away from the curb.
The quiet between us feels different tonight.
Heavy.
Charged.
Every time her leg brushes mine lightly with the movement of the car, awareness flashes hot under my skin all over again.
I loosen my tie slightly, suddenly unable to tolerate the pressure of it against my throat.
Beside me, Casey watches as rain tracks slowly down the darkened window.
“You’re quiet,” she says eventually.
I turn my head slightly toward her, my palm skimming over the silky skin of her thigh, because not touching her feels like torture. “You’re one to talk, Tesoro.”
I watch the pulse in her elegant throat pulse wildly at my touch, her quick inhale telling me she’s as affected as I am. Her eyes drop to my lips, her body leaning into mine.
A sexy smile touches her mouth. “I’m thinking.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Maybe it is, but I’m thinking it might be worth it.”
Her hand skims along my biceps, and I feel her touch through my shirt like a brand. The smile lingers another second before fading into something softer, more uncertain, as she lays her head on my shoulder. It’s intimate in a different way, but somehow this feels deeper.
I know exactly what she’s thinking about because I’m thinking about it too.
The kiss, her mouth, my hands on her waist. The breathy sound she made when I pulled her against me harder. The fact I came dangerously close to forgetting we were standing on a public balcony.
I drag a slow breath through my lungs and immediately regret it because her perfume still clings faintly to my jacket.
“Casey.”
She turns her head up toward me slowly.
The city lights catch briefly against the green silk wrapped around her body, and something inside me finally gives up entirely. “Don’t go back to the annex tonight.”
The words settle between us heavily. The words are simple, but the request is so much bigger.
I’m asking her to take a risk on me, on us, with no promises between us.
And I know the risk for her is so much higher because her heart is barely healed.
I’m her boss, and yet I can’t take it back. I don’t want to.
Her pulse jumps visibly in her throat.
For a second, she just looks at me, and I can practically see the moment she understands I’m not asking casually. I’m barely asking at all.
“This will complicate things,” she murmurs softly. “What about Letty and your family?”
I wish I had all the answers for her, that I could make her promises right now, but all I can offer her is tonight. “There’s no pressure here, Tesoro. If you want to stop and forget this ever happened, I’ll respect that decision.”
The words come out rougher than intended.
She stares at me for a second too long before shaking her head once. “No. I want this.”
Relief hits me so hard it almost feels indistinguishable from hunger.
The rest of the drive is unbearable as I keep her tucked in beside me and wish for the driver to go faster.