No One’s POV

The bedroom door clicked open.

Dante stepped inside, Viella still in his arms like she weighed nothing.

Alina was there.

"what are you doing here" Dante asked

Her hands froze mid-step, holding a delicate cup. "Oh-... I was just here to give you lemon tea. Nonna said it would help you relax after the party." Her voice trembled ever so slightly.

Her eyes drifted from Dante’s face... to the woman in his arms.

Viella blinked at her lazily.

"Do you want me to clean up the guest room for Miss Viella?" Alina asked, her voice polite, but her knuckles were pale around the teacup.

"No." Dante’s voice was low, final. "She’ll stay here. You can leave now."

Alina’s lips parted in surprise. "Oh... okay." She stepped aside, her perfume lingering faintly in the air as she slipped out.

Viella’s bleary gaze followed her. "Hey... I know you. You look so familiar. Hmm... where did I-hey! Why are you leaving? Stop-"

Dante’s temples throbbed. His head hurt. Seems like I really do need that lemon tea.

Ignoring her protests, he carried her over to the bed and lowered her down.

Plop.

She sat there with an exaggerated pout, lower lip jutting out like a sulky child.

Dante raised a brow. "What?"

"Why’d you let her leave, Dante?"

"Oh... so you remembered who i am now, hm?"

He leaned forward, caging her in with both arms on either side of her, his shadow falling over her.

Her eyes sparkled with drunken honesty. "Of course. How could I forget the male lead... the rude, scary one."

Then, without warning, she smiled wide. "But also... the handsome one."

Her small hands cupped his cheeks, warm against his skin.

Dante stilled. For a moment, neither moved-her gaze searching his face, his eyes unreadable.

"You been reading some sort of fiction about me, hm, Viella?" Dante’s voice was low, almost amused, though his eyes stayed locked on her.

"Yessss~" she drawled, stretching the word as her fingers squished his cheeks like he was some oversized cat. "You’re really famous, you know."

One of his brows arched. "Then... tell me more about it."

"Oh suuure!" She leaned forward, her hands now wandering from his cheeks to lazily comb through his dark hair like she owned it. "You know... the mafia lord falls for a pitiful girl-yaaay, romantic~" She giggled at her own tone. "Then... there needs to be a villainess, right? Someone to ruin their love chemistry..."

She gave him a dramatic pause, wide drunken grin spreading across her face. "And that’s meee. Haha! Isn’t that cool?"

Her laugh was careless, her words slightly slurred, but her hands never stopped toying with him-fingers twirling his hair, brushing over the shell of his ear, then back to his jaw.

Dante didn’t answer her fantasy.

Instead, his gaze was locked on her-on the warm flush that painted her cheeks, the way her lips had deepened into a soft rosy-red. She was too close. Too unaware.

Her voice kept spilling drunken nonsense, but he wasn’t hearing the words anymore. His focus was entirely on the temptation sitting inches away from him.

Her giggles lingered in the air, light and careless, as if they couldn’t possibly touch him.

But they did.

Dante’s jaw tightened. Not in anger-no, it was something far more dangerous.

She didn’t even notice the way his breathing had subtly slowed, or how his gaze kept dropping from her eyes to her lips and back again. Her hands were still in his hair, nails lightly scratching against his scalp without thought.

"-and then the villainess gets all jealous, tries to ruin everything, but it’s okay ’cause the mafia lord loves the sweet girl sooo much," she went on, smiling like she wasn’t stabbing him in the chest with every casual mention of someone else. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

He leaned in slightly. "And... what happens to the villainess in your little story?"

Viella paused, blinking slowly. "She... um... dies, I think?" She tilted her head in mock thought. "Buuut maybe I’ll change it this time."

His eyes narrowed just enough for her to notice. "Change it... how?"

She grinned, poking his cheek. "Maybe she gets a happy ending too. With someone... handsome."

His hand shot up-not rough, but firm-as he caught her wrist mid-poke. She stilled, finally sensing that shift in the air.

"Careful, Viella," Dante murmured, his voice a low warning, his thumb brushing lightly against the inside of her wrist. "Maybe the villainess steals the heart of the male lead and makes him take her away."

She tilted her head, clearly unfazed-or too drunk to care. "Mmm... maybe I’ll make you the one chasing me instead."

For a second, something in his eyes darkened-an unspoken thought he wouldn’t allow to slip.

He let go of her wrist, but not before leaning just close enough for her to feel the heat of his words.

"Careful what you wish for, Cara mia."

Dante finally stepped back, running a hand through his hair, fixing the few strands she’d messed up. His gaze stayed on her for a moment longer than necessary before he turned away.

And then-he froze.

Because Viella was casually fumbling with the buttons of her dress.

"What are you doing?" His voice was sharp, but she barely glanced at him.

"I’m hooottt~" she whined, dragging the word out like it was a personal attack on her. "It’s so hot in here."

Dante’s jaw clenched. "You can’t undress like this, Viella."

She just pouted, tugging at another button. "Why not? I’m melting-"

Under his breath, in low, annoyed Italian, he muttered, Questa ragazza sta davvero mettendo alla prova la mia pazienza. ("This girl is really testing my patience.")

Before she could undo another, he moved in-quick, precise-and caught both her wrists in one hand. His grip wasn’t harsh, but it was firm enough to stop her movements completely.

"Stop," he ordered.

"It’s hot," she protested again, wiggling like a restless cat.

His eyes locked onto hers, steady and unblinking. For a moment, neither of them moved.

Her breath hitched-not out of fear, but something else entirely-as his hold kept her in place. The air between them felt thick, her silly complaints slowly dissolving under the weight of his stare.

And Dante... didn’t look away.

---

Dante POV

Her wrists were so small in my hands, so easy to hold still.

Too easy.

"Viella," I said, low enough that even the air between us stilled.

She just wiggled again, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy. "I said it’s hot~!"

I leaned down until my shadow covered her completely. "If you keep moving like that..."

Her brows furrowed, clearly not catching the weight in my voice. "Like what?"

God. She had no idea. No idea how close she was to making me forget every ounce of control I had.

I could feel her pulse jumping under my fingers. Her dress had slipped slightly at the shoulder, revealing the smooth line of her collarbone. My gaze lingered for a second too long before I snapped it back up to her face.

Those lips-rosy, parted, careless.

"You can’t undress like this," I murmured, but my grip didn’t loosen.

"Why not? It’s my body," she argued in that slurred, stubborn tone.

"Because-" my voice came out rougher than I meant, "-someone might not be able to stop themselves."

Her eyes widened just a little, as if part of her finally understood. Or maybe it was just the wine making her look at me differently.

Either way, I felt her wrists still in my grasp.

For a moment, the room felt hotter.

And it wasn’t because of the temperature.

-----

Without warning, she leaned in.

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t planned.

It was Viella-reckless, unpredictable, a little tipsy, and entirely too close.

Her breath brushed against my lips, warm and sweet from the wine. My grip on her wrists tightened. My mind screamed don’t, but my body... my body didn’t care.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t thinking about control. I wasn’t thinking about consequences. I was just thinking about her.

And then-

I kissed her.

Not softly. Not politely. Rough, like I’d been holding it back for far too long. My mouth claimed hers without hesitation, and she gasped into it-whether from shock or something else, I didn’t care.

One of her wrists slipped free, but instead of pushing me away, her fingers curled into the front of my shirt. That tiny motion ignited something in me, something I’d been burying since the moment I first noticed her smile wasn’t as sharp as it looked.

I deepened the kiss, tilting her head back slightly, my free hand sliding to the back of her neck. She tasted like trouble-exactly the kind I’d sworn to avoid.

By the time I forced myself to pull back, my breathing was uneven. Her lips were swollen, her eyes half-lidded, and she looked nothing like the prim, untouchable fiancée I’d convinced myself she was.

She looked... dangerous.

And I wasn’t sure if I was warning her, or myself, when I whispered, "Don’t test me like that again."

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TO BE CONTINUED