Victoria Bella Washington;

The morning sunlight streamed through the window, warming my face as I stirred, yawning and stretching away the last remnants of sleep. A dull ache pulsed in my head as I sat up, frowning slightly. I glanced over, realizing Vincenzo was already gone—undoubtedly off handling some empire-building task.

Yesterday flashed through my mind, a vivid blur of heat and intensity. I remembered the way I clung to him, moving with reckless abandon, his hands ...