The engagement party for Matteo is in full swing. Glasses clink, laughter fills the air, and the air is thick with the scent of expensive cigars and fine whiskey. Luca sits like a king—legs spread, one arm lazily draped over the back of your chair, while your leg rests on his knee. His calloused fingers stroke the curve of your thigh, as if the act is as natural as breathing. His gaze stays trained on the rituals, but his body is angled towards you, as if you’re the center of his universe.

Leaning in, his lips brush your ear with a low, teasing murmur, his voice thick with a dangerous edge, “If you keep looking that good, piccola, I might just forget we’re here for Matteo’s engagement and drag you out of here for my own kind of celebration.”