Chapter 6: The First Night
The heavy rain battered the towering windows of the master wing, a stark contrast to the absolute stillness inside Alessandro’s study.
I stood frozen, the silk robe clinging to my skin, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Alessandro hadn't just asked for my trust—he had demanded it with a primal intensity that left me breathless.
"I won't let you down," I whispered, the words trembling slightly.
Alessandro stepped closer, the space between us vanishing. He raised his hand, his knuckles lightly grazing the line of my jaw. His touch was burning hot, sending a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear.
"You should sleep, Clara," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that settled in my stomach. "Tomorrow will be a battle. I need you rested."
He didn't walk away. Instead, he placed a firm hand on the small of my back, guiding me out of the study and through the adjoining lounge. The heat of his palm seeped through the thin silk of my robe. I had spent three years blending into the background of this house, turning myself into a ghost so men of wealth and power wouldn't notice me.
Now, the most dangerous man in New York was treating me like I was made of spun glass.
He walked me to the edge of my bed, where Emma was still sleeping peacefully beneath the thick duvet. He looked down at my daughter, the hard, calculating lines of his face softening in a way the public had never seen.
"She is safe," he said quietly. "You are safe."
I looked up at him, studying the dark circles under his eyes, the tension held tight in his broad shoulders. "Who is protecting you, Alessandro?"
The question slipped out before I could stop it. Alessandro froze. His dark eyes locked onto mine, a storm of unspoken emotions swirling in their depths. For a heartbeat, the billionaire vanished, leaving only a man who had carried the weight of an empire alone since he was twenty-four.
He leaned in. His face was mere inches from mine. I held my breath, closing my eyes, waiting for the press of his lips.
Instead, he pressed a slow, agonizingly gentle kiss to my forehead.
May you like
"Goodnight, Clara," he whispered against my skin.
He turned and walked back into the adjoining room. The door clicked shut. I collapsed onto the edge of the bed, my skin burning, realizing with terrifying clarity that I was falling for a man whose world was entirely too dangerous for me.
