The dim glow of the laptop screen flickered as Luca inserted the flash drive into the port.
Alessia stood behind him, heartbeat pounding in her ears.
"Let’s see what this is all about..." Luca muttered, eyes fixed on the screen.
A low beep. Then a loading bar.
And suddenly—error.
File not supported.
"What the hell?" he frowned. "Is the flash corrupted?"
Alessia hesitated, her voice soft. "No... it wasn’t. I was about to listen to sothing before you ca in."
He turned slightly, expression unreadable. "What is it that you can’t tell , Alessia?"
"I haven’t gotten the full details, Luca," she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. "I don’t even know what it’s really about."
But she was lying—and she knew he could sense it.
Before he could probe further, she stumbled back, pressing her palm to her head. "I—I feel dizzy..."
In a blink, Luca was beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist, cradling her close. His tone softened with concern laced in romance.
"Co here, my woman," he whispered against her hair. "Let’s go to bed. I’ll hold you all night if that’s what it takes to ease that storm inside you."
He guided her into bed, pulling her into his arms like she was the most fragile thing he’d ever loved. Alessia rested her head on his chest, eyes fluttering shut, but her mind was spinning with anxiety.
The ssages.
The voice.
The flash drive sudden error.
The recording...
Luca’s mother. A chosen heir. A war whispered in shadows.
She couldn’t wait to see Daisy for more clarity.
*****
The Next Morning
Soft kisses rained down on her cheeks.
Alessia groaned, stretching under the covers as Luca continued his trail of affection down her neck. His lips were warm, teasing, and wet, lingering just long enough to send shivers straight to her core.
"Stop," she giggled. "You’re being too romantic."
Luca smirked. "Too romantic?" he repeated, lips brushing her ear. "You sure, baby? Because..." his fingers ghosted over her chest, "your nipples say otherwise."
She gasped as he rolled one peak between his fingers, teasing her awake. Her back arched automatically, her thighs brushing together beneath the covers as a throbbing heat built between her legs.
"Luca," she warned playfully, breath catching.
"Shh. Let remind you how a man spoils his woman before breakfast."
Before she could reply, he was under the sheets, spreading her thighs open with practiced ease. His warm breath tickled her folds before his tongue made contact—slow, deep licks that made her toes curl. Then faster, hungrier, wetter—like he was feasting on her like his last al.
Her hips bucked against his face. She was drenched, moaning, grabbing the sheets with trembling hands as he sucked on her clit and fucked her with his tongue.
"God—Luca!" she cried, her back arching.
He slid up, his face and mouth slick with her wetness, cock already hard and pressing against her slick folds. "I love when you say my na like that. Wet for already, hmm?" he growled, rubbing himself through her juices.
She moaned in response, grabbing his ass as he pushed into her with one hard thrust, stretching her walls wide open.
They moved together, fast and desperate, the headboard knocking lightly against the wall. Her moans grew louder, his grunts deeper, the sound of skin slapping filled the room. Sweat beaded on their bodies, mixing with the scent of lust in the air.
"You feel so good in the morning," he whispered, biting down gently on her neck. "So tight. So fucking mine."
"Then take it," she groaned. "All of it. All of ."
And he did—pounding into her harder, rougher, their bodies crashing like waves. Her nails raked down his back. His hand found her throat, holding her gently as she gasped from the pressure and pleasure blending into pure ecstasy.
They ca hard, tangled in each other’s limbs, lips pressed together as they fell apart again. Her thighs still shook, his cock twitching deep inside her as aftershock rocked through both of them.
They had proceed to had a morning shower together.
Water cascaded over their bodies, steam curling around them like silk. Alessia’s back was pressed against the cold tiles while Luca’s hands gripped her thighs, lifting her up and pinning her to the wall.
His cock slid inside her again, slow and deep. The water made everything slippery, hotter, dirtier. Her legs wrapped around him as he began to move, thrusts asured and rough, water slapping between their wet bodies.
"Fuck, you’re still dripping for ," he groaned, sucking at her nipple while the shower poured down on them. "You want more? You greedy little thing."
"Don’t stop," she moaned, head falling back, water running down her hair, her breasts, between them where they were joined.
He fucked her against the wall, every thrust slamming her higher. One hand slipped between them to rub her clit, fast and furious. Her scream echoed off the bathroom tiles.
She ca again, wetter than ever, her juices mixing with the water sliding down their thighs.
Luca didn’t stop.
He turned her around, bending her over with her hands braced against the wall, ass in the air as he slamd into her from behind. The sound of wet slaps, her moans, his groans—it was filthy, primal, perfect.
"Take it," he growled, gripping her hips, slamming deep. "Take every fucking inch, just like that."
And she did—crying out, begging for more, lost in the pleasure of being used, owned, and worshipped all at once.
When he finally spilled inside her, they both collapsed into the water, soaked, shaking, completely ruined and absolutely satisfied.
Alessia stood in front of the mirror, towel-wrapped, butterflies fluttering in her belly.
Luca was more than just a mafia heir. He was hers—her protector, her lover, her storm.
"I have to head to the office," he said, now fully dressed in charcoal black. "You should start packing. We’ll be relocating."
She nodded. "Okay... but I’d love to visit my parents. It’s been a while."
Luca’s brows furrowed. "You’re not going alone."
"I won’t," she said gently. "Take it easy, boss man. I’ll go with security."
He smirked. "Good girl."
Alessia made him breakfast, kissed him goodbye, and watched as his car sped away. Then, upstairs, she t with Mrs. Lauretta Morano.
The woman handed her a small ornate box wrapped in gold lace.
"Give this to your mother," she said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Alessia accepted it.
She dressed in a stunning red ball gown, and headed to her parents’ ho.
Seeing the upgraded lifestyle—the cars, the marble floors, the garden blooming with imported roses—brought a rare warmth to her heart. The Moranos had changed her family’s life.
She handed her mother the gift, stayed only a mont, then slipped out quietly.
It was Daisy she needed.
***
They t at Daisy’s new apartnt. Daisy’s hug was tight, grateful, filled with unspoken dread.
"I got your ssage," Alessia whispered. "I knew sothing was off."
"I got one too," Daisy said. "It said: ’Well done for giving her the flash. It won’t stop the war.’"
Alessia froze. "What war?"
Daisy’s voice dropped to a hush. "Let’s go to my room."
They hurried to the room. She locked the door, pulled a flash drive from her worn brown purse, and inserted it into her laptop.
The screen lit up with choppy footage.
A series of hidden cara angles—shadowy rooms, clandestine etings.
Atlans. Lorenzo. Seraphina.
Each speaking in code, delivering instructions, passing intel.
Then the final recording played.
A man stood at the edge of a eting room, speaking on the phone.
"Confirm the transfer of data," he said. "She must never know until it’s too late."
The cara zood in.
And the person turned to face the cara.
It was Enzo.
Luca’s most trusted man. The head of security. The one who vowed to protect the family.
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