The villa's terrace overlooked the moonlit sea, lanterns casting a soft glow over the garden. Alessia leaned against the railing, letting the cool night air brush her skin, her thoughts still lingering on the docks—the adrenaline, the danger, and the way Luca had made her feel alive like never before.
"You've been quiet," Luca's voice came from behind her, low and teasing.
"I'm thinking," she replied, though she didn't turn to face him.
He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel his warmth. "About what?"
She hesitated. "About last night… about you."
Luca's lips quirked into a faint, almost predatory smile. "About me?"
"Yes," she whispered. Her pulse quickened. "And about how reckless you are."
"And you?" he countered softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you reckless too?"
Alessia felt heat rise in her cheeks. "Maybe. But I'm careful with the things that matter."
His eyes darkened in a way that made her stomach twist. "And I matter?"
"Yes," she admitted, almost breathless. "But that doesn't mean I'm easy."
"I wouldn't want you to be," he murmured. He leaned in, and this time, there was no hesitation. Their lips met in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, electric. Alessia felt the tension of the past nights—the danger, the adrenaline, the forbidden thrill—melt into warmth and desire.
Luca's hands framed her face, thumb brushing her cheek as he deepened the kiss. Alessia responded instinctively, pressing closer, her hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady strength beneath the tailored jacket.
They broke apart just slightly, foreheads touching, breaths mingling.
"Careful," she whispered, voice trembling. "The night… the villa… everything."
"I don't care about careful tonight," he said, voice low, intense. "I care about you."
A sharp laugh echoed from the other side of the terrace. Bianca. Alessia stiffened, pulling back slightly, irritation and disbelief mixing.
"Planning a private moment, Alessia?" Bianca's voice was sweet, but venomous underneath. She twirled a lock of her hair and leaned against the railing, clearly trying to make a spectacle.
Luca's eyes narrowed. "Bianca," he said smoothly, every word sharp. "You've overstayed your welcome."
Bianca tilted her head, smiling like a cat who thought it had cornered the mouse. "I just thought… Luca might enjoy a little company."
Alessia felt heat rise—not from jealousy this time, but anger. "I don't think your company is welcome," she said firmly, stepping forward to assert herself.
Bianca's smirk faltered, and Alessia realized: she didn't need Luca to defend her. Her voice, her presence, and her confidence were enough to make the rival hesitate.
Luca's hand found hers again, squeezing gently. "You handled that perfectly," he murmured, his green eyes glowing in the lantern light.
Alessia smiled faintly, a mixture of pride and lingering adrenaline. "I'm learning," she said.
He leaned closer, brushing his lips against her temple in a fleeting, possessive gesture that sent shivers down her spine. "And I'm paying attention," he whispered.
Bianca, realizing her charm offensive had failed, stormed off into the shadows, muttering under her breath. Alessia and Luca remained on the terrace, the sound of the sea and distant laughter filling the space between them.
For a long moment, they simply stood there, hand in hand, feeling the warmth, the tension, and the thrill of being alive together. Alessia realized something crucial: she didn't need to fear danger, rivals, or Luca's world—she only needed to trust herself.
And maybe, just maybe, trust him too.