ANA:
Something felt off.
Soft. Cozy. Warm.
Definitely not my pillow. And then, the scent hit me. A scent I'd been craving for far too long. A warmth that melted me every damn time.Instinctively, I snuggled closer, as if I'd die if I didn't soak up every bit of it.
A lazy, amused voice rumbled above me. "Taking advantage of me, Estrellita?"
My eyes snapped open. I nearly choked on my gasp.
Oh. My. God.
I was in Enzo's bed. With him. Naked.
What the actual fuck?!
Heat flooded my cheeks as my brain short-circuited. My mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Because right now, Lorenzo was staring at me. Really staring. Deep, dark, unreadable eyes locked onto mine—like he was staring straight into my soul.
I swallowed hard. "I—what—wait—this isn't—"
Enzo gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like a scandalized maiden. "So all this time, you've been pretending to hate me, when really, you just wanted to take advantage of me?" His eyes widened in exaggerated shock. "That too, when I'm injured?"
"It wasn't what you're thinking," I argued. "Last night, your body went totally cold. I didn't know what else to do, so I had to... had to give you body heat."
He raised a brow. "Really? And how do I know you're not just making all this up to get my attention?"
I groaned, crossing my arms over my chest. "Oh, shut up."
A low, dangerous sound rumbled from his throat.
Wait.
That was not a normal sound.
I turned back to him—only to catch his gaze very deliberately fixed lower. My eyes widened. His darkened gaze. The slight part of his lips. The way he was blatantly looking at—My breasts.
"Enzo!" I shrieked, covering myself and twisting away in mortification. "Don't look!"
His laughter was deep and sinful. "Too late, mi amor."
Oh, kill me now.
Thank God Rio wasn't here when I woke up. If he had seen this, I would've had to fake my own death and relocate to another country.
I squeezed my eyes shut. This was fine. Everything was fine.
I just had to survive this humiliation.
Suddenly, his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me against his chest. My breath hitched. Heat spread from my spine to my cheeks, locking me in place. I couldn't move.
The warmth of his body was intoxicating. Soothing. Tempting.
His hand rested gently on my belly, his lips brushing against my neck as he whispered, "Thank you."
I couldn't respond.
"I know I'm not the kind of guy a girl dreams about," he murmured, voice raw and quiet. "But I can be that for you. Only for you. Our worlds are so different, yet to me, you're the only light. The one I'd swim an ocean for. I need you, Estrellita."
I lay there, listening.
"I know I'm not easy. I don't woo girls with charm. I'm not like David." His grip on me tightened. "But I'd kill for you. I'd die for you in a heartbeat."
In a swift motion, I turned in his arms, pressing my fingers to his lips before he could say another word.
"Don't," I whispered, voice trembling. "Don't say that. Please."
The memory of last night crashed into me—seeing him covered in blood, unconscious, fragile in a way I never wanted to see him. My heart had clenched painfully in my chest, desperate for him to wake up, to throw a tantrum, to argue with me like always.
But him lying there, unmoving? That was unbearable.
Slowly, he took my hand from his lips, his fingers tracing over mine before he brought them to his mouth. And then, one by one, he kissed them.
Soft. Deliberate. Tender and sweet.
A quiet moan escaped my lips, his touch sending shivers down my spine.
"There was a promise I made to our mother," he murmured against my skin. "That I'd always look after you. And I did." His lips ghosted over my knuckles before his dark gaze locked onto mine. "But at the same time, I made a promise to you. That I'd be the one you'd fall in love with..."
His fingers trailed along my arm, grazing my skin like a whisper. My breath stuttered.
"But I guess... it'll take a long time."
I said nothing. I couldn't.
Instead, I let my fingertips feather over his wounds, careful and delicate. "How's the pain?"
"It's nothing." He exhaled, barely a wince. "I've had worse."
My eyes snapped to his, frustration simmering beneath my worry. Of course he had.
"Last night..." I hesitated, watching him carefully. "Were you dreaming about your mother?"
He didn't reply this time.
Instead, he just stared at me. Long and unreadable.
After what felt like an eternity, he gave me a single nod.
"Do you dream of her often?" I asked softly.
"Sometimes."
I nodded. "I don't even remember my mother well enough to dream about her."
Suddenly, my throat felt tight, a dull ache blooming in my chest. "Sometimes I wonder... why was this my fate?"
"Fate..." His voice was quiet, steady. "It's something we can't control. Like our past. But we always have the opportunity to change our future."
I held onto his words, letting them settle in my heart. Talking to him like this—like before—felt good. Comforting. Right.
My fingers moved on their own, tracing along his hairline, gliding down his forehead, his cheek, his jaw. His breathing deepened. His eyes darkened.
"Estrellita," he murmured, voice low, warning. "You're playing a dangerous game."
"Maybe I want to," I whispered back, unflinching.
No regrets. No hesitation.
The next second, his lips crashed onto mine. The kiss was nothing like the quiet conversation we were just having.
It was raw. Needed. Wanted.
He didn't flinch when I climbed onto him, straddling him as his hands found my waist, gripping tight, as if he knew exactly what I needed.
As if he was willing to give me everything.
And I gave in. Kissing him with everything I had. Not just to make him understand this was real. But to make myself believe it, too. Heat pulsed through my veins, pooling low in my stomach, leaving me aching, desperate.
I needed more.
More of him.
I touched his face, my fingers gliding across his cheek before threading through his hair. I pulled him closer, aching for more.
I thought I was going to get more. Instead, he slowed down.
His lips ghosted over mine—soft, teasing—brushing against my top lip, then the bottom, drawing out the moment with agonizing sweetness. I rolled my hips, arching into him, desperate to close the space between us.
I didn't know what I was doing. If this was right. If this was wrong.
But the way he gave me everything I needed without hesitation—without a single second thought—was making me insane.
Heat crawled through me, little sparks of fire licking up my spine, spreading under my skin.
"Chert, ty takoy vkusnyy," he murmured, pulling back for a second.
I had no idea what he said. And I didn't give a damn. I only wanted his mouth back on mine.
Dipping forward, I captured his lips again, chasing the warmth, the hunger, the way he felt.
His hands rested on my waist, firm and steady as he guided my hips against him, against his hardness.
We both needed this. This friction. This closeness. This us.
And right now, I'd give him anything he asked for. But just as the heat between us built to something unbearable, something I wasn't sure I could stop—His teeth grazed my lip. And then, suddenly—He pushed me aside. My breath caught as I stared at him, bewildered.
What?
Did he not like my kiss? Did I do something wrong? Was I—
"Stop overthinking, Estrellita," he broke the silence, sitting up in bed, facing me.
His expression was unreadable, but his voice was firm.
"Yesli by ya mog, ya by tseloval tebya vechno."
"What?" I blinked.
His jaw tensed.
"I can't do this, Estrellita."
The words sliced through me. He was the one who pursued me. The one who made me fall for him. So why—why was he shutting me out now? What did I do wrong? Did he get bored of me?
His next words shattered every thought in my mind.
"Not when you're not in love with me."
I froze.
"The only way I'll have you again is when your heart belongs to me, Estrellita."
And with that, he stood, walking toward the shower, leaving me sitting there, breathless and dumbfounded. His words echoed in my head, looping over and over.
The only way I'll have you again is when your heart belongs to me, Estrellita.
The only way I'll have you again is when your heart belongs to me, Estrellita.
The only way I'll have you again is when your heart belongs to me, Estrellita.
I swallowed, exhaling shakily as I stood. Dressed. Walked back to my room. Closing the door behind me, I let out a slow breath. And then, without meaning to—I smiled.
All this time, he had been showing me his real self—the part of him no one else ever got to see. He didn't want to lie. Didn't want to claim me with half-truths. He wanted me to fall in love with him, knowing exactly who he was.
He'd had every opportunity to take me. But he chose to wait. Until my heart belonged to him. Biting my lip, I pressed my fingers against them, still swollen from his kiss.
How do you tell someone you've fallen in love with your stalker? The devil himself?