Hazel's POV
I observed the exchange, and it didn't escape my notice how Ale's last sentence sent shivers down my spine. I could only imagine the fate awaiting the other man—'he's in trouble,' I mused, lowering my gaze. Ale caught on, hugging me and whispering in my ear, "all good, babe?" I simply nodded.
"We need to devise a plan of action before the foundation anniversary. If this isn't resolved, we might face unforeseen events, and I don't want that to happen," Ale explained sternly. The others nodded, and he added, "As for Matteo, we need to set a trap for him on the same date. He'll definitely show up." Everyone agreed.
Looking at Alessandro, I fully grasped the gravity of the risks involved. "I'm more than willing to help, but we need to approach this strategically. I can continue working at the library, keeping an eye out for any anomalies. Meanwhile, you and your team can delve into Erin and Matteo's connections and activities discreetly."
Alessandro nodded, "We'll play this smart. And Hazel, we need to ensure your protection."
Andrea and Luca exchanged solemn glances, acknowledging the challenges that lay ahead. While I appreciated Ale prioritizing my safety, a surge of newfound determination welled up within me. I felt capable of protecting myself, especially now that I was rediscovering the thrill I hadn't felt in years, especially since my papa's death. 'Ah, why am I thinking about that now? Forget it, Hazel; you've come a long way in therapy. Don't trigger your panic attacks!' I pulled myself back from the brink of my dark thoughts before anyone could notice.
Alessandro looked at me, a blend of seriousness and curiosity in his gaze. "Are you truly up for this, Hazel? It's going to get dangerous, and I can't risk—" I cut him off, gently placing a finger on his lips. "I am, Alessandro. I can't stand idly by while art is being violated." A warm and grateful smile crossed his face.
"Alright, but you stay close to me, understand?" he said, his protective instincts taking over. I nodded, genuinely appreciating his concern.
"Now," he continued, "we need to plan our move. We'll set up a meeting with Madame Marou…" I cut him off, lifting an eyebrow. "How do you know Madame Marou?" he smiled. "This might be a shock to you, but she is part of the French Mafia—an ally. She has been working with us as a curator for French artifacts and establishing relations with your department. She is one of the judges at the competition."
I was dumbstruck and cursed under my breath, thinking 'Great, the French mafia is involved.' Ale noticed my reaction and chuckled, "Relax, she's on our side, and she's been helpful in gathering intel." I nodded, trying to process this new piece of information.
"We will finalize the details of the competition and use it as a cover to trap Matteo. We'll have eyes on him, and you'll be our secret weapon." he added with a smirk playing on his face. I smirked, "Secret weapon, huh?" He grinned, "Absolutely. You've already proven your skills. Plus, you'll have our entire team backing you up." He offered me his hand. "We'll work this out, Hazel."
As we delved into the intricate details of the plan, our voices hushed as we considered every conceivable scenario, Alessandro's office transformed from a sanctuary of authority into our clandestine war room. The amalgamation of antique and modern elements within the room seemed symbolic, reflecting the fusion of old-world elegance with the contemporary strategies we were formulating.
As we pored over the blueprints of our operation, the creaking sound of leather added a peculiar rhythm to the discussions. The air was thick with anticipation, and the scent of aged leather mixed with the subtle aroma of well-worn books. The soft glow from the vintage desk lamp cast a warm ambiance, creating an atmosphere of secrecy and solidarity.
The walls, adorned with bookshelves displaying a curated collection of wisdom from various eras, bore witness to the convergence of knowledge and cunning. The large mahogany desk, weathered but well-loved, served as the epicenter of our strategic deliberations, each scratch and mark telling stories of battles waged and victories secured.
Alessandro's gaze, once authoritative, now carried a mix of determination and concern. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the side of the sofa, a visual manifestation of the gears turning in his mind. Andrea and Luca, equally absorbed in the gravity of the situation, exchanged glances that conveyed unspoken understanding.
As we outlined the steps of our intricate plan, Ale's fingers danced over the sleek laptop, navigating through digital landscapes that mirrored the complexity of our mission. The juxtaposition of antique leather-bound books against the modernity of cutting-edge technology underscored the convergence of past and present, tradition and innovation.
The room, filled with the hushed murmurs of strategy, echoed with the silent acknowledgment that we were venturing into uncharted territories. The weight of the task ahead, the shadows of impending danger, and the determination to safeguard art from violation converged within those four walls.
Ale's phone buzzed, interrupting our discussions. He checked the message and sighed. "Seems like Matteo is making his move already. He is approaching Madame Marou for intel." Everyone tensed before he added with an evil smile plastered on his face and his eyes darkened, "Well, let's play his game for now." He paused, looked at Andrea and Luca, signaling them that the meeting is over.
They got up, both smiling and saying, "Welcome to the Lombardis, Hazel." Andrea added, "Will wait outside." Ale turned his gaze to me, becoming more relaxed, and his eyes softened. "I'm looking forward to your participation in the competition. Madame Marou was excited sharing the news."
"Oh yes, I'm excited," I responded.
Ale drew me into a tighter embrace, his warm whispers tickling my ear in a gentle yet seductive tone. "So, we left something incomplete earlier," he murmured, and a tinge of desire painted his eyes as I pushed him back slightly, needing to see the lust within them. The realization hit me like a wave— he wanted to continue. My face flushed, turning a deep crimson red. Fumbling for composure, I retreated, turning my back to him. "I think you have something to do now; Luca and Andrea might be waiting for you."
I yearned for the ground to open and swallow me whole. My imagination ran wild, grappling with the idea of allowing myself to experience that uncharted territory. Based on our earlier kiss, I could surmise that Ale was experienced, while I felt as inexperienced as a virgin Mary. Panic surged within me—what would I do if we actually ventured into it? "OMG, calm down, Hazel. Think about something else, something else," I chanted inwardly, taking a deep breath in an attempt to regain composure.
Suddenly, Ale's arms enveloped me from behind, his hands wrapping around my waist. Bending down, he planted tender kisses on my cheek and then my ear. A cascade of tingling sensations rippled through my stomach, and a warmth surged through my body. His lips found their way to my neck, and, in a trance, my head tilted back automatically, granting him full access. Lost in the overwhelming sensation, an inadvertent moan escaped my lips.
In an instant, my eyes snapped open, and Ale paused but remained close, his breath cascading over my ear. He whispered in a husky, seductive voice, "Ah, Hazel, you're driving me crazy."