Page 10 of Legacy (The Sovereigns #2)
Scarlet
I wake to his hands warm on my skin as he pulls my back to his chest. I try to calm my nerves.
I actually did it.
I did something I’d never do as Adriana.
Fuck.
If my father ever finds out, I’m dead.
His lips press against my shoulder, light and casual, like he’s done it a million times.
I don’t even really know him.
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips. This is crazy, but my heart flutters when I feel his breath along my neck, his teeth grazing lightly.
“Look at you,” he drawls. “Still glowing. Still mine. How am I supposed to let you leave?” he murmurs against my skin so quietly, it’s almost like he’s speaking to himself.
His words send a shiver down my spine, but I play it cool. I turn over to face him, his beautiful light eyes warm and soft in the shaded morning light.
“Who says you have to let me go?” I ask, my voice soft, holding back so much more. I don’t want to leave his bed. His warmth. His presence that feels so right against mine.
Damn it.
I’m one of those girls .
Heart in my vagina.
Lose your virginity. Now you’re attached.
Suck it up, Adriana.
“I’m guessing you’re worried about your family,” he says, a hint of curiosity creeping into his tone, enough to make me tense.
He knows.
His fingers trail across my bare shoulder, moving down my arm in feathery touches that relax me, disarm me. I sigh in contentment.
He’s a weakness.
A delicious, beautiful weakness.
I press a kiss to his lips, and he freezes for half a second before taking control; his fingers grip into my hair as he tilts my head and deepens the kiss.
So much control.
This man is possessive.
I press my hands to his chest and break the kiss. His eyes stay on my lips as he licks his.
“My family is pretty powerful,” I say gently, trying not to reveal too much.
He smirks, eyes flicking to mine. His knuckles graze my cheek.
“I can handle powerful families,” he leans in, breath fanning my neck as his teeth graze my pulse point. “I can guarantee mine’s more powerful.”
He pulls back, gaze sharp and predatory, that smirk still in place. My breath hitches.
“Let me have you, Scarlet. Let me show you what we could be. Who you could be by my side.”
My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
Every red flag flares to life. Alarms. Sirens. Screaming at me.
Danger.
Torturous.
Devastating.
Delicious .
Deadly.
His eyes roam my face… and then he laughs. A brilliant chuckle, annoyingly perfect gorgeous teeth on display. Then he kisses the tip of my nose.
Sweet.
Innocent.
Disarming.
And I melt.
He brushes his nose against mine, and my heart clenches. It aches.
I don’t even know his middle name.
But I know the sound of his laugh.
The weight of his gaze.
The way his lips linger too long after every kiss.
Every man I know is iron and steel, brutal and cruel. Yet Angelo… he’s kind?
I may know him. But I want him. I want this.
I need to tell him who I am.
“We should—”
“Have breakfast?” he cuts me off. “I agree.”
He slips out of the bed and begins to dress, casually, like I wasn’t about to spill my life secrets.
“I know the perfect place,” he says. “Just a hole in the wall, but the food is amazing.”
He pulls on a shirt, strides over, and leans down to press a kiss to my lips, like a habit. Like we kiss every morning.
As if I’m his.
“Get ready, Tesoro. I’ll wait for you in the living room.”
And he leaves.
What the fuck am I doing?
** *
The hole in the wall is a diner, and it’s so casual and calm I’m obsessed.
It’s a far cry from the lavish restaurants of my father’s world—places where you have to dress for dinner and pretend to enjoy truffle-infused delicacies.
Here, the tables bear the marks of years of use, the jukebox plays something old and nostalgic, and the smell of freshly flipped pancakes wafts through the air, warm and inviting.
There’s no pretense here.
It’s real.
Raw.
He orders for both of us— something I’d normally protest —but his confidence is so damn appealing. He asks for a stack of pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs.
Comfort food.
My stomach growls in response.
Angelo gazes at me across the table, those startling light eyes melting into a soft smile. His hand finds mine, thumb tracing slow, lazy circles that make my skin tingle.
He’s too good at this.
You’re just another girl to him, Adriana.
He’s a man.
Just a man.
Just like all of them.
I need to know.
I open my mouth—
But the food arrives.
And just like that, I forget what I was about to say.
We dive in with abandon. Every mouthful is delicious, an explosion of home-cooked goodness that has us groaning in delight.
And somehow, just like that…
It feels easy. Natural. Like we’ve known each other forever. Like we’re two best friends falling in sync, laughing over pancakes like there’s no such thing as a clock ticking down .
“You hum when you eat,” he says suddenly.
I look up at him with a sheepish smile. “Yeah, that happens when the food is good.”
He smirks and Dios … my heart is falling faster than my mind can keep up.
I am so absorbed in him, in us, that danger feels miles away.
Until he adds, “I’ve had fun this week.”
The words knock something loose in my chest.
I nod, swallowing hard; the lump in my throat is back. “Me too.”
Silence stretches across the table like a taut wire.
Fun.
That’s what I am.
Fun.
“Do you have a middle name?” I blurt.
His eyes flick to mine. Sharp.
Heated.
A little terrifying.
“Marcello,” he responds, eyes never leaving mine.
“A family name?” I ask before I can think.
What the hell is wrong with me?
His mouth is closed, but I see the flick of his tongue over his teeth before his jaw tenses.
He nods.
“I like it,” I say cautiously.
That works.
He smiles—that brilliant, too-perfect smile that makes me forget how to breathe.
“Thank you, Tesoro.” He stands and extends his hand. “You ready to go?”
I slip my hand into his, hesitating as I stand. “We didn’t pay.”
He smirks. “They know to put it on my tab.”
He lifts his free hand toward the waitress behind the counter. She nods. No words exchanged. Just understanding.
My body relaxes.
Definitely a politician’s son.
He has to be.