Chapter4
2798 Words
Victoria’s POV
I sat at my vanity long after dinner, staring at my own reflection without really seeing it. My hands were still clenched from the walk down the hallway, from the low, furious words I’d hissed at my daughter.
Flirting with my husband. At my own table.
I pressed my lips together and forced myself to breathe. Maybe I was overreacting. Amelia had always been a good girl, quiet, obedient, careful never to cause trouble. That was the Amelia I knew.
No. I know what I saw.
My jaw tightened. I had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to let anything or anyone jeopardize this marriage. Three years. That was all I needed. Three years of playing the devoted wife, and then I would finally have the life I deserved.
If Amelia became a problem, I would deal with her the way I dealt with every problem. Quietly, Efficiently. Without mercy, if it came to that.
I was still telling myself it was nothing that I was exaggerating, that Amelia would never be so foolish, when I rose from the vanity and went to smooth things over with Leonardo, my smile already sliding back into place like a mask I’d worn a thousand times before.
Amelia would not ruin this for me. I wouldn’t let her.
Amelia’s POV
I could not sleep that night.
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling of my room, turning from one side to the other. The soft sheets felt too warm against my skin.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Leonardo’s face.
After a long time, I sat up. The clock on the nightstand showed 2:17 a.m. The whole house was quiet. Victoria’s room was at the other end of the hallway. Leonardo’s room wasn’t far from hers.
I bit my lip. I told myself I only wanted to check if he was still awake. Just a quick look. Nothing more. I slipped out of bed, my bare feet silent on the thick carpet, and tiptoed down the hall.
His door was slightly open. Soft light came from inside.
I pushed it a little more and peeked in.
Leonardo stood near the bathroom door with only a white towel hanging low on his waist.
Water still dripped from his dark hair and ran down his chest, over the hard lines of his stomach, and disappeared under the towel.
His shoulders were broad, his arms strong. He looked powerful even just standing there, drying his hair with another towel.
My throat went dry. I swallowed hard. He looked hotter than I had ever imagined. My heart started beating fast.
I blinked and quickly looked away, ready to turn around and leave before he saw me. But I was too slow.
Leonardo’s head turned. His dark eyes locked on mine. In two long steps he reached me, his hand closing around my wrist. He pulled me inside the room and shut the door behind us. Then he drew me close until my body pressed against his wet chest.
The heat of his skin burned through my thin nightshirt. Adrenaline rushed through my whole body. I could feel every hard muscle against me.
He bent his head and whispered near my ear, his voice low and rough.
“You came looking for me.”
I opened my mouth to lie, to say I was lost or that I only wanted water. But the words never came out. His soft lips touched the side of my neck. I froze. I could not breathe.
The kiss moved slowly from my neck to my jaw, then to the corner of my mouth. When his lips finally met mine, I could not stop myself. I kissed him back. My hands rose and rested on his bare shoulders.
Leonardo made a deep sound in his throat and pulled me even closer. He walked me backward until the back of my legs hit the bed. Then he guided me down onto the soft mattress.
His hands found the bottom of my nightshirt and pulled it up and over my head in one smooth move. Cool air touched my skin for only a second before his mouth returned to my neck, then lower, to my chest.
When his lips closed over one of my breasts, I could not hold back the soft moan that left my mouth.
“Ohh… daddy…”
The word slipped out before I could stop it.
Leonardo’s body tensed for a moment, then he kissed me even deeper, moving from one breast to the other. His hand slid down my stomach. My back arched. My breathing became fast and uneven.
His mouth followed the path of his hand, kissing lower and lower, until he reached the soft skin just above where I needed him most.
Just as his lips were about to touch my most sensitive place….
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sharp sound of my alarm cut through everything.
My eyes flew open. I sat up in bed with a loud gasp, my heart slamming against my ribs. My nightshirt was stuck to my back with sweat. My breathing was heavy and uneven. The room was bright with morning light.
There was no Leonardo. No wet chest. No soft bed that was not my own.
It was only a dream.
I stared at the ringing phone on the nightstand, then slapped my hand down on it to stop the noise.
Frustration burned in my chest. My body still felt hot and restless. I pressed my thighs together and closed my eyes for a second, trying to calm down.
“It was just a dream,” I whispered to myself, angry. “Only a dream.”
But it had felt so real. I could still almost feel his hands and the way his mouth had moved on my skin.
I covered my face with both hands and let out a shaky breath.
After a minute I reached for my phone again and called Maya.
Maya answered on the second ring, her voice still sleepy. “Amelia? It’s not even eight yet. What’s wrong?”
“I need you to come over,” I said. My voice sounded rough. “Please. As soon as you can.”
Maya was quiet for a second. “Did something happen with Victoria again?”
“No. Not that. I just… I need to talk. And I don’t want to be alone in my head right now. I will send you the address.”
“Okay. I’ll be there in forty minutes. I will be there soon.”
I ended the call, texted the doorman to expect her and dropped the phone on the bed. I swung my legs over the side and stood up. My legs felt a little weak.
I walked to the bathroom, turned on the cold water, and washed my face longer than usual. The cold helped a bit, but the restless feeling under my skin did not fully leave.
I brushed my teeth, tied my hair in a loose bun, and changed into a soft gray sweater and black leggings. The sweater slipped slightly off one shoulder.
I looked at myself in the mirror and touched the place on my neck where the dream-Leonardo had kissed me. Nothing was there, of course. Only my own warm skin.
When I left my room, the penthouse was still quiet. Victoria’s door was closed. Leonardo’s door was closed too. I walked past it quickly, my cheeks warming again as the dream flashed through my mind once more.
In the kitchen I made coffee and sat at the counter, staring at the dark liquid. My mind would not stay quiet. I kept seeing his wet body, feeling the way he had pulled me against him, hearing the low sound he made when I kissed him back. The word I had called him in the dream made my face burn even hotter.
I was still sitting there when the elevator chimed. Maya walked in a few minutes later, wearing jeans and a big hoodie, her hair in a messy ponytail. She took one look at my face and raised her eyebrows.
“You look like you either saw a ghost or had the dirtiest dream of your life,” Maya said, dropping her bag on the counter. “Which one is it?”
I groaned and dropped my forehead onto my arms. “The second one. And it was about him.”
Maya’s eyes went wide. She pulled out the stool next to me and sat down. “Leonardo? Tell me everything. Right now.”
I lifted my head. Before I could speak, footsteps sounded in the hallway. Both of us turned.
Leonardo walked into the kitchen wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dark pants. His hair was still slightly damp, as if he had just finished a shower.
He looked calm and controlled, the complete opposite of the man in my dream. Yet when his eyes met mine for a short second, something flickered in them — something that made my stomach flip.
He nodded once at Maya, then looked back at me.
“Good morning,” he said in his deep voice. “Did you sleep well?”
My mouth went dry. I could only nod.
Leonardo’s gaze stayed on me a moment longer than necessary before he turned to pour himself coffee. Maya kicked me lightly under the counter, her eyes full of silent questions.
My heart was beating too fast again. And the way Leonardo had just looked at me made one dangerous thought rise in my mind:
What if the dream had not been only a dream after all?
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