“The way you tremble when I touch you,” I continue, voice low and rough. “So soft. So responsive.”
A small moan escapes her lips, desire rolling off her in waves. I can almost taste it. My cock hardens fully, straining against my trousers with painful urgency.
The need to lift her against this wall, wrap her legs around my waist, and drive deep into her slick heat nearly overwhelms me.
I lean in even further. Our lips touch lightly as I speak, the barest brush that sends fire through my veins. “Need more reminding?”
Her dark eyes are heavy-lidded, glued to mine. Then, so softly I almost don't hear it, she whispers, “No, Valentino. I haveneverbeen to Venice.”
She places both hands on my chest and pushes. Hard. I let her go. The sliding door clicks shut behind her, and I'm left with the cold night air and the sound of my own breathing.
Chapter Thirteen
LIVIA
My hands shake so badly I can barely close the sliding door behind me. The terrace encounter with Valentino lingers on my skin like a brand.
My heart still races, and my legs feel unsteady as I move through the dimly lit living area of the cottage.
I glance toward the main bedroom where Valentino disappeared moments after I pushed him away, then I turn toward the smaller room where Nico sleeps.
The need to be near my son overrides everything else right now. I need his warmth, his innocence, something real to anchor me before I fall apart completely.
I slip into Nico’s room and ease the door almost shut. Moonlight filters through the curtains, casting soft patterns across the bed. Nico lies curled on his side, his small chest rising and falling in peaceful rhythm.
His favorite red toy car rests beside his pillow. I climb onto the bed carefully, trying not to wake him, and pull the covers over both of us. My body still trembles from Valentino’s touch, from the low rumble of his voice calling me tesoro, from the deliberate trail of his finger down my neckline.
I draw Nico closer, wrapping my arms around his warm little body and burying my face in his soft curls.
He stirs slightly, his voice sleepy and confused. “Mama?”
“Yes, sweetie?” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. My voice comes out shaky, but I hope he is too drowsy to notice.
He burrows deeper into my chest, his small hand fisting my shirt. Within seconds his breathing evens out again. He falls back into deep sleep, trusting and content.
I match my breathing to his slow, even breaths, letting the familiar scent of his shampoo and the solid weight of him in my arms calm the storm inside me.
Gradually, my heart rate slows. The trembling eases. Exhaustion from the long day, the drive, the dinner, and that devastating confrontation on the terrace finally pulls me under.
I fall asleep holding my son, grateful for this small pocket of safety in the middle of the lie I have built around us.
Morning arrives with sunlight streaming through the windows and the distant sound of birds over the lake.
I wake first, still curled around Nico. For a few precious minutes I simply watch him sleep, tracing the familiar lines of his face.
The resemblance to Valentino grows more obvious every day. The same strong brows, the same thoughtful expression even in rest.
I push the thought away and slip out of bed to prepare for the day.
The retreat exercises begin after breakfast in the main lodge. Margaret Aurelius explains the structure with practiced enthusiasm.
Each family unit will participate in simulated protection scenarios designed to test rapid response, coordination, and decision-making under pressure.
Valentino and I, as the engaged couple with child, must work together seamlessly. I feel his presence beside me like a physical force as we listen to the briefing.
He stands close enough that his arm brushes mine when he shifts his weight. The contact sends a spark straight through me, reminding me of last night on the terrace.
The first scenario involves an evacuation drill. We practice moving Nico between safe zones while role-playing potential threats.
