ISABELLE
I woke slowly, wrapped in warmth.
Matt’s chest rose and fell beneath my cheek, steady and rhythmic. His arm was draped across my waist, holding me close even in sleep.
It was the best sleep I’d had in a week.
Maybe longer.
I could tell he’d slept deeply too—we’d both been exhausted after… God, how many rounds had it been? Three? Four?
I smiled against his skin, my body pleasantly sore in places that reminded me of every single moment.
This.
This was what I’d been jealous of.
Not the money or the status or any of the superficial things people saw when they looked at Matteo Moretti.
This intimacy. This connection. The way our bodies fit together like they’d been designed for each other.
I’d never known myself to be possessive. Never been the type to get territorial or jea
