The moment the door shut behind him, his mask fell away.
In three swift strides, he crossed the room, pulled me from my chair, and pressed me against the bookshelf.
"We have five minutes," he whispered, his lips already finding that spot beneath my ear that makes my knees weak.
Five minutes to forget the wedding. Five minutes where I belonged to no one but him.
It’s a dangerous game we’re playing. Last week, he pulled me into the coat closet.
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing as we heard Alessandro walking past, completely unaware his sister was pressed between winter coats with her bodyguard's hand sliding under her dress.
This morning, he cornered me in the pantry while the cook was preparing breakfast just one room away.
The thrill of almost being discovered sent electricity through my veins as he lifted me onto a shelf, hands gripping my thighs.
These stolen moments are tiny rebellions.
Each secret kiss is a middle finger to my brothers, to Maksim, to the entire Mafia world that sees me as property to be bought and sold.
But beneath the excitement lies the truth that we're just postponing the inevitable.
Our time is running out, and we both know it.
I get ready for bed, closing out another day, bringing me closer to my doom.
I climb in bed, settling under the sheets wishing I could fall asleep and then wake up in a different life.
Cristian probably isn’t coming tonight, so I’m alone with my thoughts that always turn to the worst.
I wake to the soft tap on my balcony door.
My body responds before my mind, growing warm with anticipation.
Cristian slips inside.
"I thought you weren't coming tonight," I whisper, already moving toward him.
"I said I'd try not to." His voice is rough with need as he reaches for me. "I'm not very good at staying away from you."
The heat of his palm against my lower back grounds me, makes me feel safe.
"Good," I murmur against his mouth. "I don't want you to be good at that."
His kiss is hungry, desperate, like he's been starving for hours and I'm the only sustenance that will satisfy him. I drink in the taste of him, memorizing the pressure of his lips, the scent of his skin.
"Let me." I push him back toward my bed.
His eyes widen slightly as I'm not usually the one who takes control.
But tonight, I need this power, this reminder that my body is still mine to give.
We discard our clothes and I guide him down onto my mattress, enjoying the way his breath catches as I slowly climb on top of him.
"What are you doing to me, Valentina?" he groans as I trail my fingers along his chest.
"Whatever I want. I think I’ll start?—”
A sharp knock interrupts the moment.