The Don's Secret Heir

Chapter 21: The Balcony

Valentina POV

I booked the hotel on purpose.

I needed to be honest with myself, even if I wasn't being honest about much else that week. The Hotel Savona was close to my morning meeting. That was true. But it was also right across from the building where Marco lived.

That was no accident.

I told myself it was for business. I told myself that watching my rival’s home was just a smart strategy. I believed about half of that.

My meeting ended at four. I went back to my room, showered, and ate a little food. My assistant, Sofia, called at six about work. We talked for twenty minutes, and I told her I would be back in Milan by Friday.

At eight-thirty, I opened the balcony door.

The courtyard was quiet. It was a cold October night in Florence. Across the way, the lights were on in his penthouse.

I sat outside with a glass of wine. At nine, I went back inside and grabbed the small telescope from my bag. I had bought it months ago. I told myself I used it to track who visited his office for "business intelligence."

I stood at the railing and looked through the lens.

The lights were on in his living room. I found the window and adjusted the focus.

Marco was right there.

He was standing across the room with a drink. A woman was with him. She was tall with dark hair. She was laughing and looked very comfortable in his home. She looked like she had been there many times before.

I put the telescope down.

I took a sip of my wine. I looked down at a cat walking across the street. I knew I should stop, but I picked the telescope back up anyway.

They were still by the window. Marco had her pressed against the glass now, her back to it. He yanked her dress up around her waist. No slow s**t. His hand went straight between her legs, rubbing her hard while she grabbed his shoulders and moaned something I couldn’t hear. Her mouth was open, head tilted back.

He looked straight out the window again. Right at me. I froze but didn’t lower the telescope.

He turned her around fast, bent her forward so her hands were on the window sill. Then he shoved her dress higher and pulled his c**k out. I watched him line up and push into her in one thrust. She jerked forward, mouth open wide. He started f*****g her right there, hard and steady, hips slamming against her ass.

My stomach twisted. That jealous burn hit my chest like acid. That’s supposed to be me. That used to be me.

He kept one hand on her hip, the other in her hair, yanking her head back so she arched for him. Every thrust made her t**s bounce under the thin dress. He didn’t look away from the window. His eyes were on me the whole time, dark and f*****g smug while he pounded into her.

Faster now. The way he moved was brutal, like he was showing off. Her hand slipped on the glass, leaving a streak. I could see his c**k sliding in and out, shiny from her. She was pushing back on him, taking it, moaning loud enough I almost caught the sound through the glass.

I was wet. I hated it. My thighs pressed together under my robe while I watched him f**k this random tall b***h in his penthouse.

He pulled out, spun her around and lifted her leg up. Slammed back in standing up, face to face. She wrapped around him, nails digging into his back. He f****d her like that, deep and rough, mouth on her neck but eyes still open, staring across the courtyard.

Jealousy chewed me up. He knew I was here. He was doing this for me. Making sure I saw every inch, every slap of skin, every time she clenched around him.

She came first. I saw her whole body shake, legs trembling. He didn’t stop. Just kept driving into her through it until his own hips jerked hard and he buried himself deep, coming inside her while he looked straight at my dark balcony.

I couldn’t breathe right. My hand was shaking so bad the telescope image jittered.

He finally pulled out. She slid down the window a little, laughing breathy, legs weak. Marco kissed her once, quick, then looked out again. Right at me. That bastard smirked.

The performance was over. I put the telescope down.

I went inside. I took the wine to the kitchen and poured the rest down the sink. I stood there and watched it disappear. Then I went to the bed and sat on the edge in the dark. I did not turn on the lights.

The room was completely quiet.

I sat with my hands on my knees and breathed. I thought about nothing, and then everything. I did not move for a long time. "It's just business," I whispered into the empty room. My voice sounded thin and fake. "You’re just watching the competition."

I waited for a reply, but the room stayed silent.

Outside, I heard the small sounds of the city at night. Below in the courtyard, the cat was likely still walking across the stones. It didn't care about anything happening above it.

I wasn't jealous. I told myself I wasn't.

I was sitting in a dark hotel room because I had just spent my night watching a man I hadn't spoken to in five years. I had watched the whole thing. Now, I sat in the dark because I couldn't sleep, but turning on the light felt even worse. I closed my eyes and saw the dark-haired woman again. I saw the way he leaned toward her.

"He hasn't changed," I muttered. "Still the same Marco."

I lay back on the bed. I didn't even pull back the covers. I stared at the ceiling. Somewhere across the way, his lights were still on, burning a hole through the night.