Isla
If I thought the uncle’s comment was loud, the silence that followed was louder.
Marco’s grin was directed at me like he’d just thrown a grenade and was waiting to see who would burn first.
Sienna gasped, “Zio, per favore—stop embarrassing me!”
But Marco just winked. “What? I’m only saying what everyone is thinking.” He motioned around the room dramatically. “No one warned me the Americans were arriving with supermodels.”
My cheeks flamed so hot I could’ve powered the villa’s entire electricity grid.
Then—
I felt it.
That stare. Zayne’s.
Heavy. Dark. Radiating across the room like a blade sliding through water. It brushed the side of my face, down my arm, settling low on my waist before lifting again, slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing or—claiming.
He didn’t smile eith
