SIN
The silence of the room was broken only by Alessandro's heavy, rhythmic snoring. He was out cold—drained and defeated by the very pleasure I'd weaponized against him. I lay there naked, staring at the ornate ceiling as a cool breeze drifted in from the balcony, chilling the sweat on my skin.
It was almost too easy. These men built empires out of blood and bone, yet they crumbled the second a woman knew which nerve to pinch.
I sat up slowly, looking down at the "Heir." I hovered my hand over his face, tracing his features in the air without touching him. Father, if only you could see this, I thought, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. The crown prince of the Ricci throne was sleeping like a babe after being wrecked by the very daughter you threw away.
I hoped my father hadn't forgotten my promise. I wasn't just here to kill; I was here to dismantle. I'd erase them so completely that the names Ricci and Caruso would be nothing but footnotes in a history of ghosts.
"Oh, Alessandro," I whispered, finally letting my fingers graze his cheek. Even in sleep, he leaned into my touch, a parasite for affection he thought was real.
I slid out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cold marble. I grabbed a silk robe, tying it loosely around my waist…enough to cover, but not enough to hide. I stepped onto the balcony, the night air biting at my skin.
Matteo was right…Alessandro was a fool. Bringing a stranger into the heart of their operation was a death sentence. But his stupidity was my gateway. I lit a cigarette, the orange glow illuminating the dark for a brief second. I took a long drag, exhaling the smoke into the moonlight.
My hand drifted to the necklace at my throat. The cool metal felt heavy. It belonged to the woman who died giving me life…the reason my father hated me, the reason I never knew what love felt like. She was my only weakness, the only ghost I couldn't exorcise.
A faint sound to my left made me stiffen. I didn't jump. I didn't gasp. I just turned my head slowly, my eyes narrowing.
High above, on a balcony that looked over mine, stood Matteo.
He was leaning against the railing, a glass of dark wine in his hand, watching me with a cold, predatory focus. He looked like a dark god perched above his kingdom, and he wasn't hiding the fact that he was hunting.
I didn't look away. If he wanted to watch, I'd give him a goddamn masterpiece.
A sudden gust of wind caught my robe, pulling the silk open and exposing the long, pale line of my thighs. I saw his eyes drop instantly, tracking the movement of the fabric. The air between us didn't just feel cold anymore…it felt electric, charged with a sudden, violent tension.
I didn't close the robe. I took another slow drag, my eyes locked onto his. I let the smoke escape my lips in a slow, ghost-like stream, the wind carrying it upward toward him. He took a sip of his wine, his throat moving as he swallowed. He looked like a man seeing something he knew he shouldn't want, but couldn't stop looking at if his life depended on it.
He raised his glass a fraction of an inch…a silent, cynical toast to the game we were playing. I didn't smile. I just crushed the cigarette out on the stone, the silence between us louder than a scream.
Suddenly, Matteo's brows furrowed. His eyes cut through the dark with a sharp, sudden intensity, and he took a slow step back into the shadows. He vanished.
I barely had time to wonder why when I felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around my waist. I flinched, my heart leaping into my throat. My instincts took over; I was half-a-second away from slamming my elbow into a windpipe when I realized it was Alessandro.
"What are you doing out here?" he whispered, his voice thick with sleep. He was completely naked, his warm skin pressing against the back of my robe. It felt stifling. Cloying.
I forced a chuckle, trying to settle my racing pulse. "Nothing much. Just having a smoke."
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands sliding to my cheeks. He took the cigarette from between my fingers and took a long drag, exhaling it into the night.
"You look sexy in that robe," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the open silk.
"You should probably go back inside, Alessandro. You're not wearing a thing."
"I'm not going anywhere while you're out here," he said, his voice dropping to a possessive growl. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck.
He started planting soft, lingering kisses there, his hands tightening on my hips. It was supposed to be romantic, but all I could feel was the phantom gaze of the man upstairs.
Over Alessandro's shoulder, I shifted my gaze upward toward Matteo's balcony.
The space was empty. The glass of wine was gone. He had vanished into the blackness of his room the moment his brother stepped out, leaving nothing behind but the lingering, heavy tension that still prickled against my skin like a warning.