Chapter 9
POV: Amanda
The knock on my door came lighter than usual. For a split second, I expected Adrian, but when it opened, it was only the doctor.
No Adrian.
He usually came with him, always lingering nearby, watching closely as though every move mattered. This time, it was just the doctor, cheerful as ever with his little bag in hand.
“Good morning, signorina,” he said, setting it down. “Let’s have a look.”
I sat straighter, tugging my shorts up so he could check the bandage. The air felt strangely empty without Adrian’s presence, like something essential was missing from the room.
The doctor unwrapped the gauze carefully, humming.
His face softened with approval. “Molto bene. Really, very good progress. The wound is closing beautifully. No more swelling. You’ll still have a slight limp for a few more days, but nothing serious. Just keep the bandage fresh, and in less than a week you’ll be completely healed.”
Relief flooded through me at his words, and I exhaled slowly. My leg did feel stronger, steadier—almost like mine again. I could already walk nearly normal, barely a trace of the pain that had haunted me before.
“That’s good to hear,” I murmured, though part of me couldn’t stop noticing the emptiness in the room. No Adrian watching. No Adrian making sure the doctor was careful. Just silence where he should have been.
And I hated how much that absence bothered me.
The dining room smelled like fresh coffee and warm bread, but my stomach twisted at the thought of eating. I’d barely slept, tossing between guilt and the memory of Adrian’s mouth on mine—the taste of whiskey, the heat of his body pressed to me. My lips still tingled like he’d branded me.
I walked in trying to look composed, only to find Bella already at the table, pouring herself tea. Her face lit up with her usual sunshine smile. “Good morning, Amanda!”
“Good morning,” I managed, sliding into a chair across from her. I glanced toward the head of the table—empty. My heart thudded. “Adrian?”
“In his office,” Bella said with a little shrug, her tone airy but her eyes sharp, watching me too closely. “He said he had things to handle early.”
Of course. He wasn’t busy—he was hiding. Avoiding me. The truth burned in my chest, bitter and childish.
I forced a small smile. “He works a lot.”
“Mhm.” Bella stirred her tea, her lips twitching like she was holding back a grin. “Or maybe he just didn’t want to sit at the same table with you this morning.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Excuse me?”
She tilted her head, her grin breaking free now. “You should see your face right now. You’re blushing.”
I swallowed hard, gripping my mug. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” She leaned forward, her long hair spilling over her shoulder, eyes glittering with mischief. “You and Adrian… something happened, didn’t it?”
I nearly choked on my coffee. “No! Nothing happened.”
Not a lie, not completely. Not if I didn’t count the kiss that had wrecked me.
Bella arched a brow, clearly unconvinced, but she let it drop with a soft laugh. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But I see things. You two… there’s something in the air.”
I looked away, stabbing at the toast on my plate I had no intention of eating. If only she knew how much that “something” terrified me.
The garden smelled of fresh paint and spring flowers. Riccardo sat in front of his canvas, brush already moving with quick, precise strokes. His head lifted the moment I appeared.
“Oh, here you are,” he said, smiling. “I was already ready to continue painting you. Don’t move—just stay exactly like that.”
I froze mid-step, then let out a small laugh. “You could’ve warned me.”
Riccardo tilted his head, studying me with that sharp, honest gaze of his. “No need. My brother was right. I have the best model I could ask for.”
His brother.
The words sent a jolt straight through me. My pulse skipped, my lips tingled again. Last night’s kiss came back to me in an instant—Adrian’s mouth hot and demanding, his hand at my neck like he’d never let me go. The memory burned so vividly it was as if I could still taste him.
I shifted in the chair, trying to hold still as Riccardo painted, but my thoughts betrayed me, spinning endlessly back to the way Adrian had looked at me, and the way myvoice had broken when I called it a mistake.
Riccardo hummed softly while he worked, completely absorbed, and I forced myself to focus on him, on the ease he carried, the warmth of his presence. Being near him was like slipping into sunlight—safe, grounding.
When the bell rang for lunch, we ate together. Bella joined us, chatty as ever, while Adrian was conspicuously absent again. My chest tightened at the empty chair, but I swallowed the frustration down and forced myself to smile when Riccardo asked if I wanted to play chess after the meal.
We sat at a small table by the windows, the board spread between us. Riccardo’s concentration was just as intense here as it was with his painting. He barely spoke, only watched the pieces and moved them with purpose.
I surprised myself by playing well. Better than I thought I would. And when I slid my knight into place and captured his queen, Riccardo blinked, then laughed—a rare, genuine sound that made Bella clap her hands.
“You took my queen,” he said, shaking his head. “Of course. Because here, it’s just you, right?”
My lips parted in surprise. “What?”
He grinned. “You are the queen.”
Heat crept into my cheeks, but I managed a soft laugh. “Maybe. But every queen needs her king.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them. My mind instantly betrayed me with Adrian’s face—his eyes, dark and fierce, his mouth pressed to mine. The king. Always the king.
I bit the inside of my cheek, pulling myself back to the board. “Checkmate,” I said, nudging his king over with a victorious smile.
Riccardo laughed again, warm and easy, and for a while it almost felt like I belonged in that moment, in that strange little family.
But when dinner came, Adrian’s chair was still empty.
My chest burned with anger this time. Enough was enough. I couldn’t spend another meal pretending not to care, pretending he wasn’t avoiding me like I was the problem.
Pushing my chair back, I stood so fast Bella blinked up at me. “Amanda?”
“I’ll be back,” I muttered, storming out before she could stop me. I headed straight for his office. My pulse pounded in my ears, hot with frustration.
This was ridiculous. Childish. He was acting like a coward.
I didn’t bother knocking. I shoved Adrian’s office door open so hard it slammed against the wall.
He was there—god, he was always unfairly gorgeous. His dark hair was a mess from his own restless hands, his shirt tugged loose at the collar.
Adrian’s head snapped up, those infuriatingly beautiful brown eyes narrowing. “What the hell, Amanda—?”
“No.” My voice cut through, firm, sharp, controlled—at least on the surface. My chest heaved like I’d sprinted the whole way here. “What the hell is going on with you? Why are you avoiding me all day?”
He leaned back in his chair, calm on the outside, but I saw the tightness in his jaw, the coiled energy barely held in check. “I’ve been working.”
“Bullshit.” My boots struck the floor as I stepped inside, each stride fueled by the frustration boiling in me. “Don’t give me that, Adrian. I know you. You’re not working. You’re hiding.”
That hit. His eyes flared, his jaw ticked, and then he was on his feet in one sharp motion, his chair screeching back against the floor.
“You want the truth?” His voice was rough, unguarded, stalking toward me like a storm I couldn’t escape.
My body reacted before my brain could stop it—every nerve lit up, heat pouring into my veins.
“It’s because I can’t. I can’t be near you without wanting to kiss you again. And you made it clear it was a mistake.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. He was too close now, his body radiating heat, towering over me, furious and beautiful and impossible to resist. My control wavered—I was leaning in without realizing it, my body betraying me.
“Yes.” The word scraped out, trembling, before I forced steel into it. “Yes, it was a mistake.”
The air between us cracked like a whip. He flinched, but I didn’t stop.
“It makes everything complicated. For God’s sake, I’m your bodyguard. It makes my job impossible. It makes everything—” My voice broke, softer now, stripped bare. “But I never said I didn’t like it.”
The last words were barely a whisper, as if my own throat tried to keep them caged.
Adrian froze, chest heaving, his eyes locked on mine like I’d just detonated something between us.
I swallowed hard, the truth tearing out of me before I could hold it back. “I never said I didn’t want it again.”
That was it.
He snapped.
In an instant his mouth crashed against mine, fierce, desperate, scorching.
My gasp was swallowed by his tongue, claiming me, demanding me, and God—I was melting, burning, coming apart.
His hands gripped me like he’d never let me go, pulling me flush against his body until there was no space, no escape, only fire.
“Adrian—” His name was a broken whisper on my lips before he devoured me again. His kiss was brutal, needy, his tongue tangling with mine until I was dizzy.
He pressed me back until the edge of his desk dug into my thighs. In one fluid, powerful move, he lifted me onto the surface, his hands spreading my legs as he stepped between them. I locked my ankles around his waist, dragging him closer.
The hard length of him pressed against my core, even through clothes, and my breath shattered. My body ached with raw, unbearable need. His mouth left mine, trailing along my jaw, hot and hungry, his breath burning against my skin.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he rasped, voice breaking against my throat. “I can’t look at you—can’t breathe the same air—without wanting this.”
His lips crashed back onto mine, kissing me like he’d starved for me.
My fingers tangled in his shirt, then his hair, that dark silk I’d dreamed of grabbing. I pulled, desperate, grounding myself in him. “Then stop pretending you don’t want me.”
A growl tore from him, raw and guttural, and his mouth crashed harder against mine, biting, taking, devouring. His hands slid under my shirt, scorching over my bare waist, and I arched into him, electricity sparking through every inch of me.
And then—
“Riccardo!”
Bella’s scream ripped through the hall, shattering us apart like glass.
I froze. Adrian went rigid, eyes wide, breath ragged against my mouth.
Another scream echoed—panicked, broken.
Riccardo.
My blood turned to ice. The world snapped back, brutal and real.