Bound By Blood

Chapter 10: Forbidden Heat

(Sophia’s POV)

The tension between her and Marco lingered in the air long after he left the room. His touch had left a fire under her skin, a smoldering flame she couldn’t extinguish. No matter how much she tried to push the thoughts away, Marco consumed her mind—his dark, possessive gaze, the way his grip on her chin had sent sparks of heat down her spine. It was wrong to feel this way about him. She knew that.

And yet, even as she tried to focus on Luca, Marco’s shadow loomed large.

The next evening, she found herself wandering the halls, restless. Luca had been busy, caught up in meetings with the Bellini family’s lawyers and lieutenants as they prepared for whatever the Rossettis had planned next. Her footsteps echoed in the vast mansion as she passed the grand windows overlooking the gardens, the stars twinkling above like silent witnesses to her turmoil.

Without realizing it, she ended up near Marco’s wing of the estate. She stopped, her heart pounding in her chest as the temptation to knock on his door grew unbearable.

The door was slightly ajar. It was an invitation, even if it wasn’t intended as one.

Before she could think better of it, Sophia slipped inside. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting shadows across the dark furniture. Marco stood by the window, a glass of whiskey in hand, his back to her. He didn’t turn around, but she knew he sensed her presence.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said, his voice low and rough, like gravel.

Sophia swallowed hard, her feet rooted to the spot. She wasn’t sure what had drawn her here—curiosity, frustration, desire—but now that she was in his room, there was no going back. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Marco turned slowly, his eyes glinting with something dangerous and magnetic. He set his glass down and crossed the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. When he stopped in front of her, she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze.

“You should be,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

Sophia’s breath hitched as he stepped closer, his body radiating heat. “Why? Because you think you can scare me away?”

“No,” Marco said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Because I won’t stop once I start.”

Her heart raced, her pulse hammering in her throat. The tension between them was unbearable, thick as smoke. She could feel his breath on her skin, feel the energy crackling between them. Every instinct told her to back away, but her body refused to listen.

In one swift move, Marco’s hands were on her, his fingers gripping her waist and pulling her against him. His mouth crashed onto hers, the kiss raw and demanding, nothing like the soft, tender touches she had shared with Luca. Marco’s kiss was fire, a blaze of heat that consumed her whole.

Sophia’s hands tangled in his hair, a gasp escaping her as he pressed her back against the wall. His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake, and her body responded to him with a desperation that shocked her.

He pulled back for a moment, his eyes dark and full of lust. “Tell me to stop,” he growled, his voice rough with restraint.

But she couldn’t. She didn’t want him to stop.

Instead of answering, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back to her, crushing her mouth to his with a hunger that matched his own. His hands roamed her body, rough and possessive, as though he was staking a claim.

“Marco,” she breathed, her voice a mix of desire and confusion. She had no idea where this would lead, but every part of her was burning for him.

“Say my name again,” he commanded, his voice thick as he dragged his teeth along the curve of her neck.

“Marco,” she whispered, and the sound of his name on her lips seemed to push him further into the abyss.

His hands moved to her waist, and he lifted her effortlessly, pinning her against the wall with his body. The friction between them was maddening, sending waves of heat through her. For a moment, nothing else existed. There were no mafia wars, no danger, no Luca. Only Marco and the fire they had ignited.

But just as the heat between them reached a fever pitch, a loud knock echoed through the hall.

Marco stiffened, pulling back instantly, his eyes wild and furious. He set her down gently, his hand cupping her cheek for a brief second before stepping away.

“We’re not done,” he whispered darkly before turning toward the door.

Sophia was left standing there, breathless and disoriented, her lips still tingling from his kiss. She heard Marco’s conversation at the door, but her mind was spinning too fast to focus on the words. All she knew was that she had crossed a line—a line she wasn’t sure she could ever uncross.