Vittorio POV
My skin still burned where her mouth had touched.
The night with Katarina haunted every cell of my body. I could taste her on my tongue. The scratch of her nails on my shoulders. The sound of her little gasps when I— f**k. Focus.
It wasn’t just lust—it was something darker, hungrier. I hadn't felt this alive since Fiorella.
And God, that was saying something.
I sat back against the plush leather of my private jet, watching her from across the aisle. She was curled in one of the oversized seats, pretending to sleep, but I knew better. Her fingers twitched every few minutes like she was ready to run again.
Good. Let her try.
Beside me, Ghost sipped his espresso like we were on vacation. Luce lounged two rows back, polishing her knife against her thigh.
Pietro stood nea
