Page 37

Still unaware of the shift in the room, Aria laughs softly, her attention entirely on me. I don’t want to break her focus, but I can’t ignore the growing storm inside me.

Without thinking, my hand slides under the table, and settles on her bare thigh. Her reaction is instant.

She sucks in a sharp breath, her body going rigid. I catch a glimpse of her flushed cheeks, the pink blooming across her skin. She clears her throat, shifting in her seat, but she doesn’t pull away.

Her skin is warm and soft under my palm, and I feel the tension in her muscles, the way her breath quickens just a little. She’s affected, and I know she hates it. I can feel it in the way her body reacts, in the tension that coils around us both.

She glances around the room, her gaze landing on the two men. “Is this for them or me?” she whispers, her voice low.

I turn my head, finally looking at her. “Does it matter?”

She glares at me, her lips pressing into a thin line, but the color in her cheeks deepens. I give her thigh a subtle squeeze, just enough to make her inhale sharply.

Before she can retaliate, she switches the topic. “What’s in the locked drawer in your room?”

The question catches me off guard, and irritation bubbles up. I had hoped she wouldn’t ask, but the fact that she snooped pisses me off even more. I know who she did it for.

I lean back slightly, letting my hand remain where it is. “That’s my Pandora’s Box,” I reply coolly.

Her brow furrows. “What does that mean?”

“It means it holds the three most important things to me,” I say, my voice low. “And you’re not ready to see any of them.”

Her eyes narrow, and she tilts her head, studying me with renewed curiosity. “You say that like you’re protecting me from something.”

“I am.”

She glances around as if noticing for the first time that we’re in a public setting. “Fine. We’ll talk about it later.”

She pauses, then smirks, the shift in her demeanor almost playful. “Unless, of course, one of those things is a diary. Do you write in it every night? ‘Dear Diary, today I wore my scowl for seven hours.’”

The corner of my mouth twitches, and I fight the urge to laugh. Wasn’t I pissed a second ago? “That’s terrible,” I say, shaking my head. “And no, I don’t have a diary.”

She leans in slightly, her smirk widening. “I bet you do. You probably lock it in the drawer every night and guard it like it’s your life’s work.”

I shake my head again, unable to suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. I didn’t expect her to be funny or to have this kind of sharp wit.

Marco painted her as a spoiled brat, a bimbo. But sitting here, watching her crack jokes and hold her own, I feel the anger simmering beneath the surface again—not at the Caldarones, not even at Aria, but at her idiot brother. He doesn’t deserve her.

“Come on,” I say, pushing my chair back. “We can’t sit all evening.”

We stand to socialize, and I keep her close. My hand rests on her lower back as I guide her through the crowd. It’s not just for appearances—it’s a loud and clear message to everyone here: She’s mine.

When I catch the Caldarone men watching us, I lean and brush my lips against her neck. Then I do it again when I notice someone else looking. Twice. Then, a third time.

Her breath hitches, and I feel the shiver run through her. “Stop,” she whispers, her voice unsteady.

I smirk against her skin. “Relax,Bambina.It’s just for show. Don’t get too worked up.”

But it’s not just for show.

She’s driving me insane—the curve of her neck, the softness of her skin, the way her body reacts instinctively to my touch. All I can think about is peeling that dress off her, pinning her against the nearest wall, and claiming her in every way possible.

But not here.

Not because I give two fucks what these people think—I don’t. But because I won’t expose my wife like that.My wife.

I stop the neck-kissing and refocus on polite conversation as we move through the room, exchanging pleasantries with a few familiar faces. Still, my attention is always on her—the way her lips move when she speaks and her eyes light up when she smiles. She’s captivating, utterly perfect.