Vittorio’s POV
She was fire. And a goddamn all-night erection.
The memory of her still echoed in my head, her glare, and the way she stood naked in Fiorella’s room like it meant nothing. No shame. No fear. Just stubborn, blazing eyes and lips that begged to be kissed shut.
But Vittorio didn’t kiss girls like that. I conquered them.
Still, even hours later, I still felt her burned into my brain like a fever.
He had a thirty minutes meeting with the Russians and an Italian politician. Moving of Cocaine at the docks. A discussion of a new route. An alliance. A way to crush that traitorous dog Giordano once and for all.
I should’ve been focused. But when I passed Fiorella’s door cracked open like a wound, I stopped cold.
No one opened that room. No one dared. That room was a grave.
I s
