Russo Estate – Midnight
Emilia stood on the balcony of her room, the city lights flickering in the distance, cigarette burning between her fingers. The night air was cool, but the fire raging in her veins kept her warm.
She couldn't fucking sleep.
Alessandro Bianchi was a disease, and she was infected.
The bastard had gotten under her skin, and she hated it. She hated the way his voice echoed in her head, the way her body reacted to him. No man had ever made her feel this off balance.
Her fingers curled around the balcony railing, nails digging into the cold metal.
If she couldn't kill him, then she'd make him suffer.
Her mind raced with a plan, something vicious, something cruel. A storm brewed in her dark eyes as she exhaled a slow stream of smoke.
She was going to rip apart the Bianchi Empire from the inside.
Her lips curled into a dangerous smirk.
"You wanted a war, Alessandro?" she murmured to herself. "I'll give you a fucking bloodbath."
---
Bianchi Estate – 3 AM
Alessandro lounged in his dimly lit study, whiskey swirling in his glass, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His jaw ticked as he scrolled through the reports in front of him.
His men had been following Emilia.
Someone else had been following her too.
The thought made something violent twist in his chest.
She was his. She just didn't know it yet.
Luciano's voice played in his head from earlier that night.
"You're obsessed, Ale. She's not a deal. She's a war you don't need."
Alessandro smirked darkly, taking a slow sip of his drink.
Too late.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Silence.
And then—
"Miss me, daddy?"
His grip tightened around the glass.
Emilia.
That sultry, taunting voice sent something dangerous rushing through his veins.
"Topolina," he murmured, leaning back in his chair. "Calling me this late… are you lonely?"
A soft chuckle. "Oh, I just thought I'd return the favor. You like invading my space, don't you? I figured I'd invade yours."
His smirk deepened. "Are you outside?"
"Why don't you come find out?" The line went dead.
Alessandro exhaled through his nose, the thrill of the hunt igniting in his blood.
Bianchi Estate – 3:10 AM
Alessandro moved swiftly, the heavy oak doors of his study groaning as he pushed them open. His footsteps echoed against the marble floors as he descended the grand staircase, his eyes already scanning the darkened grounds outside.
And then—he saw her.
Emilia leaned against his sleek black car, her arms crossed, a cigarette dangling between her fingers. The glow of the embers illuminated her sharp features, the glint in her eyes pure fucking defiance.
She was wearing nothing but a silk camisole and shorts, her legs long, bare, and gleaming under the soft moonlight.
His jaw clenched.
That little tease.
"You have a death wish, dolcezza?" His voice was smooth, dark, and full of warning as he stepped onto the driveway.
Emilia smirked, blowing a slow stream of smoke in his direction. "No, but I do have a bad habit of poking at unstable men. And you, Alessandro, are the most unstable of them all."
He stalked toward her, the heat between them undeniable.
"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm.
She tilted her head, biting her lip just enough to test his patience. "I was bored."
"Bored?" His fingers flexed at his sides. "You broke into my estate because you were bored?"
She took a slow step forward, closing the distance between them. "I wanted to see what my future home would look like, can't I?."
Alessandro's smirk widened, dark amusement glinting in his eyes.
"Your future home?" he echoed, voice thick with mockery. He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. "Dolcezza, are you out of your fucking mind?"
Emilia tilted her head, unfazed. She flicked the cigarette away, the ember glowing briefly before it was swallowed by the night.
"I don't know, Bianchi," she mused, dragging a manicured finger down his chest. "Maybe I am. Or maybe, I just want to see what kind of prison you plan to lock me in."
His grip was on her wrist before she even had a chance to pull away, his hold tight—unyielding.
"You think this is a game?" His voice was low, a dangerous purr. "You think you can just walk into my home, challenge me, and fucking leave unscathed?"
She didn't flinch.
She fucking smiled.
"I don't think, Alessandro." She leaned in, her lips grazing the shell of his ear, her breath warm. "I know."
His patience snapped.
Before she could react, Alessandro spun her around, pressing her against the cold hood of his car. His body caged hers in, his grip securing her wrists behind her back.
"Let's get one thing straight," he murmured, his lips brushing against the pulse at her neck. "If this is going to be your home, then that means you belong to me."
She gasped softly, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down her spine.
"Say it," he demanded, his grip tightening.
Emilia turned her head slightly, her lips curving into a slow, wicked smirk.
"Fuck you, Bianchi."
Alessandro chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing her earlobe before he whispered,
"That's exactly what I plan to do, dolcezza."
A sharp inhale.
Then—his mouth crashed against hers.
It wasn't a kiss.
It was fucking annihilation.
Teeth clashing, tongues battling, his grip bruising as he pressed her against the car. She gasped against his lips, her body igniting under his touch.
His hands slid down to her thighs, hoisting her up onto the hood of the car, his body slotting between her legs, heat radiating between them.
She should stop this.
She should push him away.
But the way he owned her with just a kiss, the way his touch felt like a goddamn wildfire—she couldn't.
Alessandro pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. His breath was ragged, his control hanging by a thread.
"You're mine, Emilia." His voice was rough, unyielding.
She smirked, dragging a finger down his jaw. "We'll see about that, Bianchi."
A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Go home, dolcezza," he ordered, his voice hoarse, his control barely holding on.
Emilia smirked, sliding off the car, her body still burning from his touch. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered,
"You'll regret letting me walk away, Bianchi."
And with that, she turned on her heel and left, leaving him standing there, fists clenched, jaw tight, watching the only woman who had ever made him lose control disappear into the night.