KISS'S POV
Italy was breathtaking.
The moment we stepped out of the private jet, warm Mediterranean air wrapped around me like a gentle embrace. The sky stretched endlessly above us—deep blue, cloudless, confident. The sun kissed my skin softly, nothing like the cold, controlled atmosphere of Adrian's world back home.
Yet standing beside him, my fingers lightly intertwined with his, I felt grounded in a way that surprised me.
This wasn't my world.
But with him… it almost felt like it could be.
We moved through the private terminal quickly, escorted by men in tailored suits who spoke in low, respectful tones. Luxury cars waited outside, engines humming quietly. Adrian's presence commanded the space without effort—backs straightened, conversations halted, eyes followed him with a mixture of respect and fear.
I stayed close, just as he had asked.
"You okay?" he murmured as he opened the car door for me.
I nodded, taking one last look at the open sky. "Just… taking everything in."
His thumb brushed my knuckles, slow and deliberate. "You'll be fine."
Something about the certainty in his voice made my heart flutter.
As the car pulled away, Italy unfolded before us—ancient architecture, narrow streets, life pulsing through every corner. It felt alive. Dangerous. Beautiful.
Much like the man beside me.
---
The meeting took place at a historic estate perched above the sea. Ancient stone walls stood firm against time, but modern security surrounded it—silent guards, discreet cameras, controlled access points.
Power lived here.
Not loudly.
But undeniably.
One by one, Adrian's partners arrived.
Men whose names didn't appear in newspapers, yet shaped empires from the shadows. Men with cold eyes and calm smiles. And beside them—women who carried themselves with effortless elegance, draped in designer gowns and quiet authority.
They weren't accessories.
They were equals.
Introductions were made.
"This is Kiss," Adrian said calmly, his hand settling at my lower back in a possessive, grounding gesture. "She's with me."
The wording was deliberate.
Not my secretary.
Not my companion.
With me.
Eyes turned toward me—curious, assessing. Then something warmer followed.
Approval.
One woman with silver hair and piercing eyes smiled knowingly. "Ah… so this is the woman."
Heat crept into my cheeks.
Another laughed softly. "You finally brought someone, Adrian. We were starting to believe you were married to your work."
Adrian didn't deny it.
Instead, his gaze flicked to me briefly.
"For a long time," he said, voice low, "I was."
Something in his tone made my chest tighten unexpectedly.
As the meeting began, conversations shifted—territory, logistics, alliances, threats. I stayed quiet, listening, observing. This was a battlefield of words and power, and Adrian moved through it with lethal ease.
Yet every so often, his gaze would find mine.
As if anchoring himself.
---
ADRIAN'S POV
She fit here more than she realized.
Even among predators, Kiss didn't shrink. She watched. She listened. She learned. She didn't pretend to understand what she didn't—but she understood people.
The women noticed it too.
I saw it in the way they observed her, how their smiles softened, how their curiosity turned to something resembling acceptance.
When the meeting finally concluded, tension eased. Conversations became lighter. Laughter followed.
"We'll see you tonight at the hotel," one of the women said to Kiss with a playful wink. "Drinks are mandatory."
Kiss smiled politely, clearly overwhelmed but composed.
Before stepping away, I turned to her.
"I'll be tied up for a few hours," I said quietly. "Rest. Don't go out alone."
She nodded without hesitation. "I won't."
I leaned down before I could stop myself.
My lips brushed hers—soft, deliberate, undeniably possessive.
The world narrowed to that moment.
When I pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, eyes wide, breath slightly uneven.
Behind her, the women were openly grinning.
"Oh, look at her," one teased. "He's got her blushing already."
Another laughed. "Careful, Kiss. Men like Adrian don't kiss lightly."
A rare smirk curved my lips.
"Take care of her," I told them before turning away.
"We will," one replied knowingly.
As I walked off, I felt it.
Kiss watching me go.
And for the first time in a long time—
I wanted to turn back.
---
KISS'S POV
I could still feel his lips.
Even as we entered the seven-star hotel—marble floors gleaming under crystal chandeliers, staff gliding silently, luxury dripping from every surface—my heart refused to settle.
The women gathered around me almost immediately.
"So," one said casually, sipping her drink. "How long have you had him?"
I nearly choked. "I—what?"
They burst into laughter.
"Relax," another said. "We're not interrogating you. We're curious."
One leaned closer. "Adrian doesn't bring women into this world. Ever."
My pulse stuttered.
"I didn't know that," I admitted softly.
They exchanged knowing looks.
"That makes you special," the silver-haired woman said gently. "Whether you realize it or not."
The word echoed in my mind.
Special.
Was I?
Or was I just standing at the center of something far larger than I understood?
---
ADRIAN'S POV
Business dragged late into the night.
Italy was… complicated.
Old alliances resurfacing. New threats testing boundaries. My father's voice lingered in my head—You can't keep avoiding this forever.
Orders were issued. Lines drawn.
Yet even as I commanded the room, my thoughts drifted.
To Kiss.
Was she resting? Laughing with the women? Thinking about me the way I couldn't stop thinking about her?
I told myself to focus.
But control was slipping.
And I knew it.
---
CHRIS'S POV
Italy.
The moment the confirmation came through, I didn't hesitate.
Adrian Goodwill didn't take women to Italy unless they mattered.
And Kiss Hilson mattered.
The jet engines roared beneath me as I stared out the window, jaw clenched.
"So you ran," I muttered. "Or did you think I wouldn't follow?"
I didn't come to fight.
I came to talk.
To see her.
To understand why she had lodged herself into my thoughts so deeply.
And maybe—
To take back something Adrian thought he already owned.
---
KISS'S POV
That night, I stood by the hotel window, city lights glittering beneath the moonlight like scattered diamonds.
Italy felt magical.
And dangerous.
My phone buzzed.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
Italy looks good on you.
My blood ran cold.
Another message followed almost instantly.
We need to talk, Kiss.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I didn't need a name.
I already knew.
Chris was here.
And suddenly, the distance between Adrian and me felt terrifyingly fragile.
---
ADRIAN'S POV
I didn't know yet.
Didn't know Chris had crossed borders. Didn't know Kiss's phone had just lit up. Didn't know the fragile peace I was holding onto was already cracking.
But I felt it.
That tightening in my chest.
That instinct honed by war and betrayal.
Trouble was coming.
And this time—
It was personal.