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“I sometimes forget that you are still grieving the loss of your brother. You handle the grief so well that I… I forget.” My words are sincere that they even throw me for a loop. “I know I have said it once before, but I am sorry for your loss.”

Her eyes linger on me. A flicker of something unreadable flashes through them—so fleeting, I almost miss it. She takes a few tentative steps toward me, and I pause. She looks like she is on a mission but there is a hesitance in her actions.

That’s when I see it. The shift in her eyes—raw, unfiltered desire. A silent plea wrapped in fire, a challenge and surrender all at once.

“Maria…”

She swallows hard, her breath uneven, but still, she moves toward me.

“We may never love each other,” she murmurs, her voice thick with something darker than want. “But I can’t stop needing you.” Her lashes lower, her breath uneven. “It’s maddening—the way I burn when you think of her. When I see the ghost of her in your eyes, in your silence, in the way you hold yourself back from me.”

She exhales shakily, fingers curling at her sides. “And it’s unbearable—the way I ache when you touch me.” Her voice drops lower, almost a whisper. “I don’t know what this is, but I don’t want to fight it anymore. I don’t want to be in a battle I’ve already lost to someone who isn’t even here. I want you to want me the same way.”

Her words seal my fate.

Something snaps inside me. A dam breaking, a beast unchained.

She’s standing before me—bare, vulnerable, but not fragile. No, Maria has never been fragile. She is fire and steel, reckless and beautiful, daring me to take what she’s offering. Daring me to make her mine.

She steps closer—so close I can smell the lingering traces of her perfume, the soft mix of vanilla and danger. Her eyes, wide and doe-like, lock onto mine, searching, waiting.

She reaches behind her, fingers trembling slightly, and then—one by one—she lets the straps of her dress slip from her shoulders. The silk glides over her skin, pooling at her feet in a whisper of fabric.

My breath catches.

No lace. No undergarments. Nothing.

She stands before me, bare, utterly unashamed, the flickering light casting golden shadows over every curve of her body. A vision of temptation—pure sin wrapped in delicate, unmarked flesh. I clench my fists at my sides, every ounce of my self-control hanging by a fragile thread.

Her chest rises and falls in uneven breaths, but she doesn’t waver. She doesn’t shy away from my gaze. She wants me to look. She wants me to burn for her.

And God help me, I do.

“Make me yours, Matteo.”

Her voice is quiet, but the steel in it is undeniable. She takes a step forward, her bare skin brushing against my suit, her warmth searing through the fabric. My jaw clenches. My pulse roars.

She has no idea what she’s just unleashed.

“Don’t make me beg for something that is mine by law,” she continues, her nails grazing slightly over the fabric. Her lips part, her breath mingling with mine. “I can see you want to.”

Christ. Can she?

I lift a hand, trailing my fingers over her collarbone, feeling the way her pulse thrums beneath my touch—fast, unsteady. For me. She gasps softly, her breath hitching, and fuck, it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

“You want me to want you the same way?” My voice is low, rough. Possessive.

I tilt her chin up, forcing her to look at me. Her pupils are blown wide, her lips parted, waiting, wanting.

“You have no idea how much I already do.”

Then I crash my mouth to hers, swallowing her gasp, tasting the fire she’s kept buried for far too long. And in this moment, in the way she melts against me, in the way her nails sink into my skin, I know?—

She’s mine.

Tonight, tomorrow, forever.

I rip my lips from hers and lean my forehead against hers. I see her dilated pupils and the way the green in her eyes slowly begins to dissolve.