REINA
Morning ca slow, the light sneaking through the curtains and landing soft on my face. I didn’t move for a while.
Just lay there, staring at nothing.
Caught between sleep and wakefulness, the scent of him still clinging to my skin—dark, expensive, familiar. Donico’s arm was heavy across my waist, his breath deep and unhurried against the back of my neck. It wasn’t supposed to feel peaceful, not here, not in his bed. But sohow, it did.
The sheets were soft, warm with his body heat. Every inch of the room whispered him, the order, the stillness, the kind of quiet that made you forget there was a world outside.
I turned my head slightly. He was still asleep, face softened by the pale light, lashes brushing against his skin. It was strange, seeing him like that. The man who commanded rooms with silence now lay here beside , looking almost innocent.
Almost.
Carefully, I slipped from beneath his arm, the mattress dipping under my weight as I rose. My legs felt heavy, my chest tight with sothing I couldn’t na. I stood for a mont, watching him.
This was the first morning in months I’d woken up without resentnt.
And sohow, that terrified more than the anger ever had.
I padded into the bathroom, the marble cool beneath my feet. I splashed water on my face, trying to wash away the heaviness in my chest, the mories of last night—the way he’d looked at , touched , held as if I was sothing precious.
It wasn’t supposed to an anything.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
When I lifted my head, my reflection looked back... eyes tired, lips soft and swollen, hair falling loose around my shoulders. His shirt hung off , swallowing whole, slling like his cologne. For a second, I just stared. Then I reached for the buttons, undoing them slowly until the fabric slipped down my arms.
"When did he leave these marks on my thighs?" I bit back a grin as I stared at the bike marks that had decorated my inner thighs like blooming flowers.
It was strange how sothing so simple could feel like reclaiming myself.
I folded the shirt neatly and set it aside, then changed into my own clothes—the old ones I’d brought back from my aunt’s house. Faded jeans. A simple blouse. It felt grounding, like slipping into an older version of myself I’d almost forgotten.
When I left his room, the house was quiet, except for the faint echo of footsteps from sowhere down the hall. I made my way through the long corridor, past the tall windows and paintings that stared back like silent witnesses.
The morning air outside was crisp as I crossed the courtyard to my own building—the one I share with Paolo. The air shifted there, different from the main house, lighter sohow. I showered again quickly, dressed properly, and brushed my hair back into a simple ponytail.
Today wasn’t supposed to be about him.
It was supposed to be about .
Going back to school wasn’t just a plan—it was a promise I’d made to myself. I needed sothing normal, sothing untouched by all the madness that had swallowed my life just recently.
When I was ready, I made my way back to the main building, as if I hadn’t slept here overnight. Breakfast was always served there—grand and formal, even when it didn’t have to be.
The air carried the scent of freshly brewed coffee, truffle olets, and sothing sweet—maybe vanilla pastries—long before I reached the dining room.
"Good morning, signora," one of the maids greeted softly as I entered.
"Morning," I replied with a small smile.
Donico was already there. Of course he was. He sat at the head of the long dining table, dressed in a black shirt and slacks, reading sothing on his phone. He looked up as soon as I walked in, and for a mont, sothing almost gentle flickered in his eyes.
"You’re up early," he said, his voice still low, roughened by sleep.
Fuck! That voice did sothing crazy to my pussy. God, not again! Not after everything we did hours ago.
"I could say the sa," I answered, taking a seat a few chairs down.
It was just us. Just the two of us.
"I don’t sleep much." He set his phone aside, nodding at one of the servants, who imdiately poured coffee into the cup before . "You look... different this morning."
I raised an eyebrow. "Different?"
He studied for a second, then smiled faintly. "Peaceful."
Was this man flirting with right now? In front of the maids?
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I looked down at my coffee instead, letting the warmth of the cup steady .
"Did you rest well?" he asked, almost casually.
I hesitated. "I did."
"Good." He leaned back slightly, fingers tapping lightly against his mug. "So, what would you like to do today?"
The question caught off guard. It was such a simple, ordinary thing to ask, yet coming from him, it felt... personal.
"I—" I paused, searching for the right words. "Actually, I have sothing I need to do today."
He tilted his head, curious. "And what’s that?"
"I’m going back to school."
His expression froze for a second, then softened into sothing unreadable. "School?"
I nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "It’s been a while. I took a break, but... I’m ready now. Classes resu today."
He went quiet, eyes still on . I could feel his gaze, heavy but not unkind. "You didn’t tell ."
"I didn’t think I had to."
"I would’ve made arrangents," he said simply. "You shouldn’t have to worry about things like that."
"I’m not worried." I smiled faintly. "It’s just school, sir. Besides, my husband had already taken care of everything before he left for business."
Donico’s eyes darkened, his grip on the fork tightened and when I cleared my throat, to let him know we weren’t alone, he sighed. Shoulders sagged in defeat.
"Nothing in your life is just anything," he said, a hint of amusent softening his tone. "Let drop you off. I can do that much, can’t I?"
I shook my head imdiately. "No, that’s not necessary. I can drive myself."
He frowned slightly, as though the idea didn’t sit well with him. "I’d prefer if you didn’t go alone."
"Donico—"
Before I could argue further, a familiar voice spoke from behind . Coming from the entrance door and a wave of déjà vu washed over .
"I’ll take her, sir."
I turned to find Calestino standing in the doorway, hands clasped neatly behind his back. He gave a small nod, polite as always.
Donico didn’t look surprised. "You’ll see her there and back," he said, his tone slipping into that quiet authority that filled every room he was in.
"Yes, sir."
"I can handle myself," I muttered, though it ca out softer than I intended.
"I know," Donico said, eting my eyes. "But it’ll make feel better to know you’re safe."
There was sothing so earnest in the way he said it that I didn’t have the heart to argue.
"Fine," I relented.
He smiled faintly, pushing his chair back and rising. "Good. Then it’s settled."
He walked around the table, stopping beside . For a second, his hand brushed lightly against my shoulder—barely there, but enough to make look up.
"You’ll call when you get there?" he asked.
I hesitated, then nodded. "I will."
"Good." His voice softened, almost a whisper. "I like knowing you’re safe."
I looked at him for a mont, words tangled sowhere between my chest and my throat. Then I simply said, "Thank you."
He gave a small nod, the corner of his mouth lifting in sothing that wasn’t quite a smile but wasn’t cold either.
As I stood, he watched quietly, his gaze following until I disappeared through the doorway with Calestino close behind. The morning sunlight stread in through the tall windows, catching the glint of his watch, the stillness in his stance.
And just before I stepped outside, I felt it again... that strange pull in my chest. The sense that no matter how far I went, sothing of him would always stay with .
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