Emilia refused to back down, even as Alessandro towered over her, his presence thick with dominance. "You're delusional," she said, voice steady, refusing to show any sign of weakness. "You think just because you say something, it becomes reality?"
Alessandro smirked, eyes gleaming with amusement. "No, dolcezza. When I want something, I take it." His fingers grazed her wrist, a slow, intentional touch that sent an involuntary shiver through her spine.
Emilia yanked her arm away, sneering. "Try it, and I'll make sure you regret it."
Ariana cleared her throat, watching the exchange with an intrigued smile. "Well, isn't this entertaining?" she mused, taking a sip of her wine. "You two have enough chemistry to burn this whole house down."
"Or burn each other alive," Mateo added, his deep chuckle filling the space.
Alessandro's smirk never wavered. "Exactly." He took another step forward, backing Emilia against the table. "You see, cara, I love a good fight. And you? You make it so damn fun."
Emilia placed a hand on his chest, not out of affection but as a warning. "If you don't step back, Bianchi, I swear—"
"Swear what?" he cut her off, his voice dropping dangerously low. "That you'll kill me? That you'll torture me?" He chuckled darkly, his breath fanning against her cheek. "Go ahead, firecracker. I'd love to see you try."
She hated that his proximity made her pulse quicken. Hated that he knew exactly how to push her buttons. She reached for the knife still embedded in the table and, in one swift move, pressed the cold blade to his throat.
The room tensed. Ariana raised an eyebrow. Mateo simply smiled.
Alessandro? He fucking grinned.
"That's my girl," he whispered, voice laced with something dark, something hungry. "See? You belong with me."
Emilia leaned in closer, applying just enough pressure to the blade to break the skin, a tiny bead of blood trailing down his neck. "You're playing a dangerous game, Alessandro," she whispered back.
He didn't flinch. If anything, his smirk widened. "Good," he murmured. "I love danger."
Ariana sighed dramatically. "Alright, children. As much as I'd love to see this turn into foreplay, I do believe dinner is getting cold."
Emilia pulled back, disgusted, tossing the knife onto the table with a loud clank. "This conversation is over."
Alessandro tilted his head. "Oh no, amore. It's just getting started."
Emilia turned on her heel and walked out, not sparing him another glance.
But Alessandro? He just watched her leave, wiping the blood from his throat with his thumb, then bringing it to his lips. And he smiled. "What exactly do you want dolcezza, didn't we kiss yesterday?". He said loudly for everyone to hear.
Emilia froze mid-step. Her fingers twitched at her sides as the audacity of this man sank in.
Slowly, she turned, her eyes burning with something far deadlier than rage—amusement. A slow smirk curled on her lips as she tilted her head.
"You must really enjoy pain, Bianchi," she mused, her tone light, almost playful.
Alessandro leaned back against the table, arms crossed, completely unfazed. "Only when it comes from you, little one."
Mateo chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, this is interesting."
Ariana sighed, sipping her wine like this was nothing more than entertainment. "You two should just fuck already."
Emilia didn't so much as blink, but Alessandro? His grin turned predatory.
"That's the plan, Mamma," he drawled, never taking his eyes off Emilia.
Her smirk widened, but her eyes remained sharp. "Now I see where the traits comes from." She was about to leave when she bumped into a small frame.
Raising a brow, she looked at the teenage girl that got back up.
Isabella dusted off her dress and looked up at Emilia with wide, curious eyes. Then, a slow smirk—so eerily similar to Alessandro's—spread across her lips.
"Wow, pretty...So, you're the problem my brother keeps obsessing over," Isabella mused, crossing her arms.
Emilia let out a low chuckle, tilting her head. "And you must be the brat he spoils."
Isabella's smirk deepened. "Smart and beautiful. No wonder he's losing his mind."
"I don't care, your brother is a jerk and this lady here prefers a gentleman ".
Isabella laughed, shaking her head. "A gentleman? Oh, sweetie, you're in the wrong family for that."
Emilia crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Then I guess I'll have to find someone else."
Alessandro, who had been leaning against the wall with an amused smirk, finally spoke up. "You say that, dolcezza, but here you are—standing in my house, sitting at my table, speaking to my family." He stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "Tell me, do gentlemen make your pulse race the way I do?"
Emilia rolled her eyes, pushing past him, but he grabbed her wrist, yanking her back just enough for their bodies to brush.
"Careful, firecracker" he murmured, voice dangerously low.
Emilia's jaw tightened. She hated that he was right. Hated that his touch sent shivers through her spine.
Isabella, watching the scene unfold, whistled lowly. "Damn. You two have issues."
Alessandro shot his sister a warning glare, but she just grinned, unbothered.
Emilia yanked her hand free and took a step back, fixing her dress. "I'm done here."
As she turned to leave, Isabella called after her. "Be expecting my visit, sister in law "
Emilia didn't bother looking back. But as she stepped outside, her heart was still pounding.