Chapter 7 - Unspoken Desires
Three weeks had passed since the downfall of the DeMarco family.
With Julian and Vivian exiled from the state and their illegal syndicate assets seized, peace had returned to the city. Belladonna House was no longer a war room. The dark cloud hanging over my head had completely lifted.
Yet, I found myself facing a new, far more dangerous challenge: my feelings for Vincent Moretti.
Living in the mansion with him had proved to be exquisite torture. He treated me like royalty. He hired private tutors to help me finish my degree, provided me with a lavish wardrobe, and insisted I sit next to him during every single dinner.
He never made me feel self-conscious about my body. In fact, he constantly made me feel desirable. The way his dark eyes lingered on the curve of my waist when I walked into a room, the way his hand instinctively rested on the small of my back whenever we walked together, the deep, rumbling sound of his laughter when I made a sharp joke—it was driving me crazy.
It was late Friday night. A heavy rainstorm was drumming against the windows of the grand library.
I was sitting on the plush leather sofa near the fireplace, wearing a comfortable cashmere sweater and leggings, reading a textbook for my late-night study session.
The heavy library door creaked open, and Vincent walked in. He had taken off his necktie and unbuttoned his collar, looking effortlessly handsome and relaxed. In his hands, he carried two crystal glasses and a bottle of vintage scotch.
"Still studying?" he asked softly, walking over to the fireplace.
"Final exams are next week," I replied with a smile, closing my book. "I refuse to fail."
"You won't fail," Vincent said, pouring two fingers of dark amber liquid into a glass and handing it to me. "You are the smartest, most determined woman I've ever known."
I took the glass, our fingers brushing against each other. The simple contact sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core.
Vincent sat down on the sofa right next to me. The leather dipped under his heavy weight, bringing his warm, intoxicating scent close to me.
We drank in cozy silence for a few minutes, watching the flames crackle in the hearth.
"Vincent?" I asked softly, breaking the quiet.
"Hmm?"
"The DeMarcos are gone. My life is safe now. The life debt... it's fulfilled, isn't it?"
Vincent froze. He set his glass down on the mahogany coffee table and slowly turned to face me. The warm firelight cast sharp shadows across his sculpted jawline.
"Is that what you want, Clara?" his voice dropped to a rough, quiet whisper. "For the debt to be fulfilled so you can leave?"
"I... I didn't say I wanted to leave," I stammered, my breath hitching as he leaned in closer. "I just... I don't want to be here just because of an obligation. I don't want you to feel trapped by a promise your mother made twenty-five years ago."
Vincent reached out, cupping the side of my face in his large, warm hand. His thumb gently stroked my cheekbone.
"Look at me, Clara," he commanded softly.
I looked into his dark, swirling eyes, completely helpless against the magnetic pull between us.
"This ceased being about a debt the second I saw you standing in that ballroom," Vincent murmured, his eyes dropping down to my lips. "I don't keep you here because of my mother's promise. I keep you here because I can't bear the thought of breathing in a world where you aren't by my side."
My breath caught in my throat. "Vincent..."
"You think I see you as a responsibility?" he whispered, sliding his hand down to the nape of my neck, his fingers tangling into my dark waves. "I see a woman who has completely stolen my heart. A woman whose beauty takes my breath away every single morning."
"I'm not like the girls you're used to," I whispered nervously, my hands trembling as I placed them against his firm, warm chest. "I'm not thin, I'm not high-society, I don't fit into your world..."
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"Damn your high-society girls," Vincent growled softly, leaning in until his lips were mere millimeters from mine. "You are real. You are fierce. You are gorgeous, voluptuous, and perfect in every single way. You are the only woman I have ever wanted."
He didn't give me a chance to respond. He bridged the small gap between us and pressed his lips against mine.
