Dante

My anger stirred as I sank into the chair. I was with Marco, my most trusted ally, his tight features looking frustrated. “Why have her so close,boss?” heasked, his tone low and firm. “Ofall people, Valeria DeLuca? After what her mentor did —stole the vineyard, your father’s legacy? Vincenzo’sbetrayal was nasty, and now his protege is in your house. I don’t trust her.”

I glared at him indisdain, squinting my eyes. Marco was loyal, buthe had these moments where he overstepped, challenging something he didn’t understand. Valeria was a pawnon my board, a move I’d planned out long before she’d ever known my name. I’d planned her ruin—the debt, the betrayal of her family, the auction—not justto take back the vineyard but to take her. Shewas fire, wild and unbroken, a weapon I’d mould in my world. I openedmy mouth to say she could be useful, but a muted sound outside the door interrupted me, too sharp and loud in the silence of the estate.

I jumped tomy feet, my underworld instincts kicking in. “Who the hell is there?” I barked. I walked to the door, snatched it open, hand close to gunon my hip. The corridor was empty, the marblefloor gleaming in the dull light of the chandelier. My heart rate was steadybut alert as I scanned the shadows. Nothing. No footsteps, no shush ofclothing. A trick of the mind, perhaps. I waved it aside, but a hintof doubt stuck around.

Back in thestudy, I glared at Marco. “Do your goddamn job,” I commanded coldly, my voice leavingno room for argument. “Stay out of my plans. I know what I’m doing.” My tonewas firm. Valeriawas not a mere pawn. She was a queen I had played carefully, moving her every step of the way. Marco nodded and I waved him out to gather my wits and regain my senseof purpose.

A few hours later I was back in mystudy, reading reports. There was a knock on the door whichdistracted me. “Come in,” I said, not raising my eyes from theledger. The door groaned open and Valeria stepped in. I didn't look up from the page,ignoring her, but something floral, sharp with the hint of femininity, drifted toward me on the musky air.

She swallowed hard and in her husky voice she readfrom an iPad, updating me on the goods I had her checking. Ilooked up, the hairs standing at the back of my neck.

She was in herpajamas: silk, not excessive but snug enough to highlight her curves. What made me freeze was her neckline, slightlyoff, showing a small expanse of pale, flawless skin. The gorgeous sweep of her collarbone, the fragile hollow of her throat—it was nothingand everything. My throatconstricted, a primitive heat rumbling inside me. I took deep, shudderingbreaths, my pulse racing. I squirmed in my chair,the leather creaking, suddenly feeling too hot in my suit.

I clenched my teeth, furious at myown weakness. “Valeria,” I called. She glanced up, with her eyes meeting mine. “What the hell areyou wearing?”

She blinked, looking down at herself with confusion twistingher features. “It’s only pajamas, Mr.Moretti,” she answered with even tones, though there was a glint of defiance in her eyes.

I leaned in, my fists tightening against thedesk. “Can’t you dress properly? Or, you think youcan walk around like that in my house?” My words were cutting, designed to hurt and to restore order.

Valeria’sjaw dropped in shock as she inspected her clothes once more. Then she slowly pulled upher neckline, covering it. She looked up again, herlips curling in mock smile. “Iapologize,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t know I wasseducing you.”

I furrowed my brows at her as my anger flared up. She believedshe could play with me? “Get out,” I saidthrough tense lips. “And keep yourmind clean about me.”

She laughed, alow, slicing sound that cut through me. “You canbet your life on it, Mr. Moretti. And I didn't even want to come here to start with.” she said shrugging. And as she turned, her wet hair flung around, as she walked toward the door,which clicked closed like a gunshot in my head.

I leaped to my feet, my hands tightly balled into fists, andthe ledger on my desk was disregarded. Her boldness marveled me, something I’d not been braced for from a woman whoI’d purchased with two hundred million dollars. I made my way acrossthe bar, my boots pounding on the oak floor, and wrenched open the humidor, the sweet smell of cigars steadying me. I lit the cigar and inhaled deeply, the smoke pooling around me as I shoved away the image of her—head bowed, silk pajamas clinging to her curves, the pale picture of that neckline seared across my brain.

My eyes narrowed in the direction ofthe door, that was closed. I’d forced her ruin—the debts, her family’s disgrace, the auction—to make the vineyard that Vincenzo stole from my father’s estatemine once more. I’d avoided her for a month, let her dissolve into the shadows ofthe estate, but tonight she’d gotten under my skin. That bare collarbone was nothing, but it undid me. My heart raced, betraying my hard control, and I gripped the cigar hard, the cherry in the end glowing red.

I walked out to thewindow, the city stretching flat beneath me, a kingdom of blood and brutality. Valeria wasnot a usual pawn—she’d built an empire from dust, her rebellion a reflection of mine. I planned to break her, to fashion her into my weapon, but she mocked and dared me, and it seemed she had herown game to play. The image ofher skin came again, and I groaned under my breath, disturbed by the memory, the word silent but harsh. I ruled an empire that required discipline, and here I was, shaken by a woman I meantto bend to my will. “I suppose it’s been a longtime since I had a wild night!”