---
HER POV
(Continuation from the cafe)
Katya stirred her espresso, watching me over the rim of her cup.
"You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Brooding." She set the spoon down. "You walked out of that elevator like a queen. He's probably still standing there, staring at the doors. That's a win. So why do you look like someone cancelled Christmas?"
I traced a crack in the marble table. "Because he still said nothing. Thirty days. That's what I gave him. And part of me is terrified he'll just... wait it out. Do nothing. Let the clock run."
"Then don't let him."
I looked up. "What do you mean?"
Katya leaned forward. Her eyes were sharp, calculating—the same look she got when she was about to say something dangerous.
"You've been playing defense, Viv. Ignoring him. Showing up at his office. Walking away. It's working—he's confused, off-balance, probably losing his mind. But defense doesn't win wars. At some point, you have to go on offense."
"Offense how?"
"Push him." She said it simply. Like it was obvious. "You know his weak spots. His control. His need to be the one in charge. So take that away from him. Break his restrictions."
I blinked. "You want me to seduce him?"
"I want you to make him snap." Katya's smile was slow and wicked. "Not with a dress and a tattoo. He's already seen those. He touched the tattoo. He kissed you. And he still managed to walk away because he told himself you're 'too young.' So you need to make him forget that excuse. Make him want you so badly that 'too young' sounds like the stupidest thing he's ever said."
My heart was pounding. "How?"
"Stop being the one who leaves." She reached across the table and took my hand. "Every time you've been together, you've walked away. From the party. From his mansion. From the elevator. You're always the one who turns first. That gives him space to breathe, to think, to talk himself out of it."
"So I should... stay?"
"Stay. Crowd him. Touch him. Let him touch you. And when he tries to pull back and give you the 'this is wrong' speech—don't let him. Kiss him again. Harder. Make him understand that his rules don't apply to this. To you."
I stared at her. "You're insane."
"Maybe." She squeezed my fingers. "But I'm also engaged to a man who tried to push me away for six months because he thought he was 'too dangerous.' Know what changed his mind?"
"What?"
"I stopped letting him decide for me." Katya's voice softened. "Nico is a monster to the rest of the world. But with me? He's putty. Because I refused to let him hide behind his excuses. Lorenzo is the same. He's scared, Viv. Scared of hurting you, scared of losing control, scared of what your father will do. Those are real fears. But they're not your fears. They're his. And you don't have to accept them."
I pulled my hand back. Thought about it.
Thirty days.
I could wait. Let him come to me. Hope he found the courage.
Or I could take the wheel.
"Okay," I said.
Katya's eyebrows rose. "Okay?"
"Okay. I'll push him." I stood up, grabbed my purse. "But I need your help."
"Always. What do you need?"
I smiled—the kind of smile that made men nervous.
"I need to know where he'll be tonight. Not the mansion. Not the office. Somewhere... neutral. Somewhere he can't hide behind his guards."
Katya pulled out her phone. "Nico owes me about a thousand secrets. Give me ten minutes."
---
That evening – Private members' club
HIS POV
The club was dark, quiet, exclusive. A sanctuary for men who needed to forget the weight of their empires.
I was failing at forgetting.
Nico sat across from me, swirling whiskey in his glass, watching me with that knowing look I hated.
"You've been staring at the same spot on the wall for ten minutes," he said.
"I've been thinking."
"About her."
I didn't answer. Didn't need to.
Nico sighed. "You're pathetic."
"You're engaged to a woman who flew to Italy without telling you. Don't talk to me about pathetic."
His jaw tightened. "Katya is... complicated."
"Katya is trouble."
"She's mine." He said it like a warning. "And she's also the reason your girl is about to walk through that door."
I went cold. "What?"
Nico nodded toward the entrance. "She texted me twenty minutes ago. Said she was 'in the neighborhood.' With Vivienne."
I set my glass down. "You should have told me."
"And miss the look on your face?" He almost smiled. "No chance."
Before I could respond, the door opened.
And she walked in.
---
HER POV
The club smelled like old money and expensive cologne.
Katya had her arm linked through mine, her heels clicking on the marble floor like she owned the place.
"Relax," she murmured. "You're not here to see him. You're here to have a drink with your best friend."
"I know the plan."
"Then stop looking like you're about to throw up."
I smoothed my dress. Black. Short. Simple. Confident.
You're not here for him.
You're here to make him watch.
We rounded the corner into the back room.
Lorenzo and Nico sat at a corner booth. A bottle of whiskey between them.
And standing near the entrance, arms crossed, expression neutral—Enzo.
Lorenzo's most trusted guard. The man who had opened the mansion gates for me. The man who had watched me walk into Lorenzo's study without blinking.
Perfect.
I ignored Lorenzo completely. Walked straight to Enzo.
"Enzo." I smiled. "I didn't expect to see you here."
His eyes flickered—surprise, then caution. "Miss Moretti. I'm here on security detail."
"You're always working." I tilted my head. "Don't you ever have fun?"
"I serve Mr. De Luca."
"And Mr. De Luca is sitting right there, drinking whiskey, not needing you at this exact moment." I touched his arm—light, friendly. "Come. Sit with us. Have a drink."
Enzo's jaw tightened. He glanced at Lorenzo.
I didn't.
---
HIS POV
She walked past me.
Didn't look at me.
Didn't acknowledge me.
She walked straight to Enzo.
My guard. My man.
And she touched him.
"Come. Sit with us," she said. Her voice was warm, inviting—the voice she used to use on me.
Enzo looked at me for permission.
I should have said no.
But I wanted to see what she was doing.
I nodded once.
Enzo hesitated. Then followed her to the table where Katya was already sitting.
---
HER POV
I sat down next to Enzo. Close. Not touching, but close enough that our shoulders almost brushed.
Katya raised an eyebrow at me but said nothing. She was good at this.
"So, Enzo," I said, reaching for a bottle of wine that wasn't mine. "How long have you worked for Mr. De Luca?"
"Twelve years, Miss."
"Twelve years." I poured him a glass. Pushed it toward him. "That's a long time. He must trust you completely."
"He does."
"And what do you do when you're not guarding him? Do you have a wife? A girlfriend?"
Enzo shifted in his seat. "I... no, Miss. The job keeps me busy."
"No one special?" I leaned a little closer. "That's a shame. A man like you—strong, loyal, handsome. I'd think you'd have women lining up."
Enzo's face reddened. "Miss Moretti—"
"Call me Vivienne." I touched his wrist. Just a brush. "We're friends now, aren't we?"
From across the room, I felt Lorenzo's gaze like a blade between my shoulder blades.
Good.
"So tell me," I continued, leaning in so my voice was low, just for Enzo. "When was the last time you were with someone? Intimately?"
Enzo choked on his wine.
Katya hid a smile behind her hand.
"I... Miss, I don't think—"
"It's a simple question." I tilted my head, let my hair fall across my shoulder. "You're a grown man. You must have needs."
Enzo looked desperately toward Lorenzo.
I didn't.
---
HIS POV
She was touching him.
My guard. My employee. My man.
She asked about his sex life. She leaned close enough that her hair brushed his shoulder. She poured him wine.
What the hell is she doing?
Nico leaned across the table. "She's trying to make you jealous."
"I know what she's doing."
"Then why are you still sitting here?"
Because if I stood up, I'd drag her out of this club and never let her go.
And I wasn't ready to admit that I'd lost control.
But watching her laugh at something Enzo said—watching Enzo's face turn red under her attention—
My glass cracked in my hand.
---
HER POV
I heard it. The sound of glass breaking.
I didn't look.
Instead, I leaned even closer to Enzo. Put my hand on his knee. Just for a second.
"You never answered my question," I said softly.
"Miss Moretti, please—"
"Vivienne."
"Vivienne." He swallowed. "I... it's been a while."
"How long?"
"A year."
A year?" I widened my eyes. "That's criminal. A man like you shouldn't be alone."
"I'm not—I serve Mr. De Luca—"
"Serving someone doesn't mean you stop being a person." I squeezed his knee. "You deserve happiness, Enzo. You deserve someone who sees you."
The chair across the room scraped back.
Lorenzo stood.
"Enzo," he said. His voice was ice. "Outside. Now."
Enzo practically jumped to his feet. "Yes, sir."
He fled.
I stayed seated. Picked up my wine. Took a slow sip.
Then I looked at Lorenzo.
"Yes?"
His eyes were black. His chest heaved. His hand was bleeding from the broken glass.
"You're coming with me," he said.
"Am I?"
"Now, Vivienne."
I set down the glass. Stood up. Walked toward him—slowly—until I was close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body.
"Jealous?" I whispered.
"Furious."
"Same thing."
He grabbed my wrist. Not hard. But firm.
"We're leaving."
He pulled me toward the door.
I didn't resist.
Behind me, I heard Katya say, "Told you."
And Nico's low laugh.
---
HALLWAY – 8:45 P.M.
HER POV
He didn't stop until we were in a private hallway, away from the music, away from the crowd.
Then he spun me around and pinned me against the wall.
His hands were on either side of my head. His body was pressed against mine. His breath was hot on my face.
"What the hell was that?" he demanded.
"I was being friendly."
"You were flirting with my guard."
"I was asking him questions. He seemed lonely."
"He seemed terrified. Because he knows I'd fire him for even looking at you."
"Then maybe you should have joined us." I reached up and touched his chest. "Instead of sitting in the corner, pretending you don't care."
His jaw tightened.
"I care," he said. "That's the problem."
"Then stop pretending."
"Vivienne—"
"You told me 'not yet.' You told me thirty days. But you didn't tell me I couldn't talk to other men."
"You knew exactly what you were doing."
"I knew I wanted your attention." I let my fingers trail down his chest. "And now I have it."
He closed his eyes. His forehead dropped to mine.
"You're going to destroy me."
"Then stop fighting it."
He kissed me.
Not gentle. Not careful.
Desperate.
His hands were in my hair, on my waist, pulling me closer. I kissed him back just as hard—biting his lower lip, tangling my fingers in his shirt.
When he finally pulled back, we were both breathless.
"My place," he said. "Now."
"Yes."
He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the exit.
I didn't look back.
I didn't need to.
I'd already won.
---
BACK IN THE CLUB – KATYA AND NICO
Katya sipped her drink. "They're gone."
Nico nodded. "I noticed."
"You're not going to stop him?"
"Stop him from finally claiming the woman he's been in love with for three years?" Nico leaned back. "No. I'm going to order another bottle and enjoy the silence."
Katya laughed. "I like you."
"You're engaged to me. You're supposed to."
She kissed his cheek. "Fair point."