Bianchi Estate – Midnight
Alessandro sat in his dimly lit study, whiskey in hand, staring at the untouched documents in front of him. But his mind? It was elsewhere.
She was fucking intoxicating. Wild. Untamed. A challenge he hadn't expected but one he would damn well win.
Emilia Russo.
The woman had the audacity to break into his estate, taunt him, kiss him like she owned his damn soul, and then walk away like it meant nothing.
His fingers tightened around the glass before he tossed it against the wall, the sharp shatter echoing in the silence.
Luciano strolled in, leaning against the doorframe, completely unbothered. "Dude, you both are insane, it's fucking midnight "
Alessandro's glare could've burned through steel. "Shut the fuck up."
Luciano smirked. "Didn't think the great Alessandro Bianchi would ever be this fucked up over a woman. But then again… she's Emilia Russo."
Alessandro exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "She's driving me insane".
Alessandro clenched his jaw, the phantom taste of Emilia still on his lips. His fingers twitched at his sides as he replayed every damn second of their encounter. Her smirk, her taunts, the way she looked at him like she wasn't afraid—like she wasn't supposed to be afraid.
Luciano, ever the amused spectator, sighed dramatically. "So, what's the plan? Are you gonna keep brooding in your office like a tragic villain, or are you actually gonna do something about it?"
Alessandro shot him a withering look. "Get the fuck out, Luciano."
Luciano chuckled, yawning he push off the doorframe. "Well good night then".
The next morning, sunlight poured through the curtains of the Bianchi estate. Alessandro sat at the head of the dining table, sipping his espresso, his eyes distant as he thought about Emilia. She had haunted his dreams, infiltrating his every thought.
Luciano walked in, freshly showered and annoyingly well-rested. "Morning, lover boy. Still thinking about your Russo?"
Alessandro didn't even glance up. "I told you to shut the fuck up."
"Touchy," Luciano teased, grabbing a piece of toast. "You know, if you're going to obsess over her like this, you might as well marry her already."
Alessandro clenched his jaw but didn't respond. The thought had crossed his mind—more than once. The idea of claiming Emilia in every possible way, tying her to him permanently, was... intoxicating. But he wouldn't rush into it. Not yet.
He looked out the window, the morning sun casting a warm glow on the Bianchi grounds. He had to be patient, strategic. Emilia Russo was fire, and while he loved the heat, he needed to control the burn.
"Have the car ready," Alessandro finally said, his tone sharp. "I have business to take care of."
Luciano raised an eyebrow, amused. "Business or Russo?"
Alessandro's smirk was cold and calculating. "Both."
---
Meanwhile, at the Russo estate, Emilia sat in the living room with her mother, trying to focus on her phone but failing. Her mind kept drifting back to the night before, to Alessandro. She hated the way he got under her skin, the way he made her heart race and her blood boil. But damn it, she couldn't shake him.
Sofia Russo glanced over at her daughter, noticing the tension in her face. "Emilia, darling, is everything alright?"
Emilia forced a smile. "I'm fine, Mama. Just… thinking."
"Thinking about work? Or something else?" Sofia asked gently, her eyes full of motherly concern.
"Work," Emilia lied, standing up abruptly. "I should head to the office."... "... Mama... It's Bianchi boy".
Sofia Russo paused, setting her teacup down with a soft clink. Her sharp gaze met her daughter's, immediately seeing through the lie.
"Bianchi boy?" she repeated, voice laced with quiet warning. "Alessandro?"
Emilia sighed, rubbing her temples. "Yes, Mama. Alessandro Bianchi."
Sofia exhaled deeply, leaning back into the couch. "What does he want with you, Emilia?"
She scoffed, crossing her arms. "To own me, apparently".
" Be careful dear". Sofia said before wishing her daughter a good day.
And Emilia smiled back, but the smile was change to an evil smirk when she walked to her car.
Bianchis estate.
Mateo and his wife Ariana were sitted with Emilia on the dinner table. "So, why do you want to see us sweetie?". Ariana said politely.
"You people called us for dinner few days to wage a war between our families because your son wants me?"
Ariana smiled, but there was something calculating behind her eyes. "Oh, dear. War is such a strong word."
Mateo chuckled, setting his glass of whiskey down. "It's not a war, Emilia. It's an arrangement. A mutually beneficial one."
Emilia leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she twirled a knife between her fingers. "An arrangement?" she echoed mockingly. "What part of I don't want your son don't you people understand?"
Mateo smirked, completely unfazed. "Alessandro wants you. And my son always gets what he wants."
Emilia rolled her eyes. "That's cute. But let me make one thing clear—I am not a possession." She stabbed the knife into the wooden table, making Ariana flinch slightly. "And if your son thinks he can force me into this, I'll personally make sure the Bianchi empire crumbles beneath my heels."
Ariana sighed, placing her hands together. "Oh, Emilia. You're a strong woman, and I admire that. But you must understand, this is not about what you want anymore."
Emilia's gaze darkened. "Excuse me?"
Mateo leaned forward, a sinister glint in his eyes. "Your father has enemies. Powerful ones. Aligning with us would keep the Russos protected."
Emilia scoffed. "And let me guess—the price for that protection is me?"
Mateo smiled. "You're smart, Emilia. You know how this world works."
She chuckled darkly, shaking her head. "You people are delusional if you think I'm going to sit back and play happy little wife for your psycho son." She stood up, dusting off her dress. "I don't need your protection. And I don't need Alessandro Bianchi."
Just as she turned to leave, a deep voice stopped her.
"Now, that hurts, topolina."
Emilia froze, her pulse spiking as Alessandro stepped into the room, his signature smirk firmly in place. He was dressed in all black, his presence suffocating the air itself.
He slowly walked toward her, predatory, confident. "You don't need me?" He tilted his head. "Then why do you keep running straight into my arms?"
Emilia clenched her jaw. "Fuck off, Alessandro."
He chuckled, closing the distance between them until they were nearly chest to chest. "No, amore. You belong to me. Whether you accept it now… or later."
Emilia met his gaze, fire clashing with fire.