Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

S ofia

T oday was day one of my plan.

My heart felt like it was thumping in the back of my throat.

The auction room was buzzing with energy, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses. I stood beside Massimo, my arm loosely linked with his, feeling the rush of excitement that always came with being in his world.

I had never imagined myself here, in rooms like these, among people like this. But the more time I spent by Massimo's side, the more I realized I belonged here. I felt the eyes of others on me as they whispered my name, tried to figure out who I was to him, what role I played. They had no idea that I was more than just a pretty face, a new companion for the city's most powerful man.

I was in this world now, and I was going to prove that I deserved to be here.

The charity auction was in full swing, and the guests—wealthy socialites, powerful business magnates, and, of course, the ever-present political figures—were dressed in their finest, every inch of them polished to perfection.

I adjusted the strap of my dress, feeling the silky fabric slide against my skin. The gown Massimo had chosen for me was a deep emerald green, the kind of color that seemed to shift in the light. It clung to my curves in all the right places, flowing elegantly to the floor with a thigh-high slit that added just the right amount of seduction. The neckline was daring but tasteful, plunging just enough to hint at what lay beneath without giving too much away. A simple diamond necklace adorned my throat, and my hair was swept up into a loose, elegant bun.

I felt powerful, confident, like I could take on the world.

Because I could.

I felt a bit naughty too, because I wasn't wearing any panties beneath the dress, since I didn't want any panty lines.

I was completely bare, and Massimo knew it too. I'd shown him on the car ride to the charity hall and he'd made me come once on his tongue by the time we'd arrived.

It made me smile just thinking about it.

Massimo's hand rested possessively at the small of my back, his thumb brushing against my skin in a way that sent a shiver through me. I looked up at him, catching the way his eyes swept over me with a mix of pride and something darker, something that made my pulse quicken.

"You look stunning, bella ," he murmured, his voice low, meant only for me. "You fit in perfectly here."

I smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "I feel like I'm finally where I'm supposed to be," I replied, my voice steady.

His lips curved into a knowing smile. "Good."

As the auctioneer continued to call out bids for a priceless piece of art, I leaned in closer to Massimo, allowing my body to brush against his in a way that would be impossible to ignore.

"Are you sure about this?" I whispered, my lips just grazing his ear.

He turned his head slightly, his mouth so close to mine that I could feel his breath. "I'm sure," he replied, his tone firm. "Raffaele needs to think we're distracted, vulnerable. He needs to believe there's tension between us."

I nodded, straightening up, my expression hardening. "Then let's give him a show."

The room fell silent for a moment as the auctioneer announced a new item—a rare vintage bottle of wine from an exclusive vineyard nearby here in Tuscany. I could see the interested glances, the quiet murmurs of the guests. It was the perfect opportunity.

I leaned back, just slightly, enough to pull away from Massimo, my eyes narrowing as if in irritation.

"You know, Massimo," I said, raising my voice just enough to be heard by those nearby, "sometimes I think you care more about your reputation than anything else, especially me."

"Sofia, now's not the time," he murmured, his tone low, but just loud enough for those around us to hear.

I let out a small, sharp laugh, shaking my head as if exasperated. "When is the time? You drag me to these events, parade me around like some trophy, and expect me to smile and nod and pretend like I don't see what's happening, like I don't know what you are."

I could feel the eyes of the other guests turning toward us, curiosity piqued by our angry-sounding exchange.

Good.

Let them listen. Let them wonder.

Massimo's grip tightened slightly on my arm, a warning, but I pulled away, my expression heated.

"I'm not just some piece in your game, Massimo," I continued, my voice a little louder now. "I'm done pretending."

"Careful, bella ," he warned softly, his voice carrying just enough menace to make my skin prickle. "You're playing with fire."

I took a step back, my chin lifting defiantly. "Maybe I like the heat," I shot back, feeling a thrill run through me as I spoke the words.

The tension in the room was palpable now, the whispers growing louder, and I could feel the eyes of the crowd watching us, trying to figure out what was happening between us. I knew Raffaele's men were here, somewhere, listening, watching, and that was exactly what we wanted.

Massimo's eyes darkened, and for a moment, I could see the real fire in them, the real anger.

"Fine," he said, his voice tight, controlled. "Go ahead. Make your point. But remember, you're still mine."

I felt a rush of heat at his words, a surge of excitement that I tried to mask with a scornful smile.

"We'll see about that," I replied coolly, turning on my heel and walking away, my heart racing in my chest.

As I moved through the crowd, I could feel the eyes following me, the whispers growing louder. I had no doubt Raffaele's men were taking the bait, thinking they'd just witnessed a crack in our alliance.

But they had no idea. We were just getting started.

The room buzzed with tension, and I could feel the weight of a hundred eyes on my back, whispering, speculating. I kept my head high, shoulders back, letting the silk of my dress sway with each movement.

As I neared the edge of the room, I dared to glance over my shoulder. Massimo was still standing where I had left him, his jaw tight, his gaze locked on me, but he made no move to follow. He was playing his part perfectly, letting me go, letting everyone in the room believe that we were at odds. It stung a little, seeing him remain so composed, but I knew it was all part of the plan.

I turned back around, heading for the exit, trying to calm my racing heart. I needed to get away from the crowd, away from the prying eyes and curious glances. I needed a moment to collect myself, to make sure I stayed in control.

But just as I reached the door, a smooth, familiar voice called out to me.

" Signorina Sofia."

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Slowly, I turned to see Raffaele Moretti standing a few feet away, a cordial smile on his lips, his eyes sharp and assessing. He looked every bit the polished gentleman—dark suit impeccably tailored, tie perfectly knotted, not a hair out of place. But there was something about him that made my skin crawl, something cold and calculating behind that charming fa?ade.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked, taking a step closer, his tone friendly, almost concerned. "I couldn't help but notice the… tension between you and Massimo."

I forced a polite smile, trying to match his tone. "Just a small disagreement," I said, keeping my voice light. "Nothing to worry about."

His eyes flickered with something unreadable, and he tilted his head slightly, studying me. "I see. Still, it's a shame to leave before the night has even begun. These events can be… tedious, but they're a necessary evil in our world, wouldn't you agree?"

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. "They serve their purpose."

Raffaele's smile widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. He took another step closer, his presence imposing, though he kept his tone light. "You know, I've always admired how well you've adapted to this life, Sofia. It's not easy, stepping into a world like ours. Especially not with a man like Massimo. He can be… intense."

I felt a prickle of unease at his words, the way he spoke Massimo's name with that subtle edge of disdain. I knew he was testing me, trying to gauge my reaction, to see if there was any truth to the rift we had just staged.

"I've learned a lot," I replied carefully, not giving him anything to latch onto.

Raffaele chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving mine. "Our world is a complicated one, but sometimes, even the best of us can lose sight of what really matters."

I raised an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "And what do you think really matters, Signore Moretti?"

He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "Loyalty," he said simply. "In our world, loyalty is everything. It's the foundation upon which everything else is built. Without it, even the strongest alliances crumble."

I nodded slowly, trying to keep my breathing steady. "I agree."

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to see through the veneer of calm I was projecting. "Then you'll understand how important it is to ensure that loyalty is always rewarded… and betrayal is swiftly dealt with."

There it was—a veiled threat, wrapped in a pleasant tone and a charming smile. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to maintain my composure. "Of course," I said evenly. "Loyalty is everything."

Raffaele's smile softened, and he reached out to gently touch my arm, a gesture that felt far too intimate given the circumstances. "I'm glad we see eye to eye, Sofia. It's good to know there are still those who understand the importance of such things."

I resisted the urge to pull away from his touch, instead offering a small, polite smile. "I'm sure you'll find that we have more in common than you think."

He chuckled softly, as if amused by my response. "Perhaps. I hope we'll have the opportunity to get to know each other better in the future."

I nodded, forcing the smile to stay on my lips. "I'm sure we will."

He released my arm, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment longer before he took a step back, his expression returning to that smooth, unreadable mask.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, Sofia," he said, his voice cordial but with an undertone that sent a chill down my spine.

"Thank you, Signore Moretti," I replied, inclining my head slightly before turning to leave.

As I walked away, I could feel his eyes on me, watching, calculating. I had just been in the presence of a man who could smile and charm his way through any situation, but beneath that veneer was a ruthless predator, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

Raffaele thought he could manipulate me, use me to get to Massimo. But he was about to learn just how wrong he was.

I quickened my pace, leaving the room and heading down the hallway toward the private lounge where I knew Massimo would be waiting. This was far from over, and the stakes were higher than ever. But I was ready.

We were ready.

And Raffaele had no idea what was coming for him.

As soon as I reached the lounge, I pushed open the heavy wooden door and slipped inside, the thick carpet muffling the sound of my heels. The room was spacious, elegantly furnished, with soft leather chairs and a large fireplace with a fire that crackled softly in the corner. The curtains were drawn, shutting out the noise and chaos from the event outside.

Massimo was already there, standing by the fireplace with his back to me, one hand holding a glass of whiskey. He turned as he heard me enter, his dark eyes locking onto mine, his expression unreadable.

"Well?" he asked, his voice low, measured. "How did it go?"

I smiled in his direction and crossed the room to stand in front of him.

"Raffaele stopped me before I could leave," I said quietly. "He was… cordial, friendly even, but there was something else. He was trying to get a read on me, to see if there's any truth to the rather public rift between us."

Massimo's jaw tightened slightly, his eyes narrowing. "What did he say?"

"He talked about loyalty," I replied, my voice steady. "How important it is in our world, and how quickly betrayal is dealt with. It was a threat but veiled in polite words. He's trying to figure out where I stand."

Massimo's expression darkened, his grip on the glass tightening. "He's testing us."

I nodded. "I think he believes he can use me somehow… get me to turn on you, or at least feed him information."

A slow, predatory smile spread across Massimo's lips. "Then he doesn't know you very well, does he?"

I smiled back, feeling a surge of confidence. "No, he doesn't. And I think he's underestimating us."

Massimo took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Good," he murmured. "That's exactly what we want. Let him think he has the upper hand."

I reached out, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm. "But he's dangerous, Massimo," I whispered, my voice filled with concern. "He's more cunning than I expected. We have to be careful."

He nodded, his hand covering mine, his grip firm and reassuring. "I know, bella . But we have an advantage now—we know he's watching us, trying to figure us out. We can use that against him."

I leaned into him slightly, finding comfort in his strength, his presence. "What's the next step?" I asked.

Massimo's eyes softened, and he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "We keep playing our parts," he replied. "We make him think the cracks between us are widening. We let him believe he's getting closer to his goal."

I nodded, understanding. "And then?"

His smile turned darker, more dangerous. "And then we take him down," he said simply. "We hit him where it hurts, where he least expects it. But for now, we let him think he's in control."

I smiled back, feeling a thrill of excitement at the plan taking shape. "You really think we can outmaneuver him?"

Massimo's eyes glittered with confidence. "I know we can," he said firmly. "Because we're smarter than he is. And we have something he doesn't."

I raised an eyebrow, curious. "And what's that?"

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear. I shivered and drew in a heated breath.

"Each other," he whispered, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. "He doesn't understand that. He's always been alone, always worked alone. He doesn't know what it's like to have someone he can trust by his side."

I felt a rush of warmth at his words, a sense of belonging that went deeper than anything I had felt before. "Then let's show him," I whispered back, my voice filled with resolve. "Let's show him what it means to be underestimated."

Massimo grinned, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. "That's my girl," he said, his voice filled with pride. "Now, let's get back out there. The night's not over yet."

I nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. "Let's make him regret ever thinking he could play us," I replied, my tone confident.

Massimo chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound. "Oh, he will," he promised. "By the time we're done, he'll wish he'd never set foot in this city."

"Perfect," I said with a grin.

Massimo's hand tightened on mine, but instead of turning toward the door, he pulled me closer, his eyes darkening with a fierce intensity. My heart skipped a beat, my breath catching in my throat as I looked up at him and tried to figure out what he was up to.

His gaze was fixed on me, his jaw set, his expression a mixture of anger, desire, and something deeper—something primal. He didn't say a word, but I could feel the shift in his mood, the way his grip on my hand became almost possessive, claiming.

"Massimo…" I whispered, unsure of what was coming next.

He didn't answer. Instead, he closed the distance between us in one swift movement, his other hand coming up to curl around the back of my neck. His fingers tangled in my hair, holding me firmly in place as his mouth crashed down on mine.

The kiss was fierce, demanding—a raw, hungry collision of lips and tongues. There was nothing gentle about it; it was a claiming, a statement, a promise all at once. I felt a growl rumble deep in his chest, vibrating against my skin, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

He pulled me tighter against him, his arm wrapping around my waist, pinning me against his body as if he couldn't bear the thought of any space between us. His lips moved over mine with a desperate, relentless hunger, and I melted into him, my hands gripping the lapels of his suit jacket, needing to feel every inch of him.

"Mine," he growled against my lips, his voice rough and filled with a possessive fire.

I gasped, my knees weakening at the intensity of his words, the way he said it with such certainty, such raw authority. He wasn't asking; he was declaring, and I found myself loving every second of it.

"Yes," I breathed, barely able to form the word as his mouth claimed mine again, deeper, more demanding.

He groaned, a sound that was both frustrated and satisfied, his hands roaming over my back, pulling me even closer.

"Don't ever doubt that," he whispered, his breath hot against my lips. "You're mine, in every way that matters."

I nodded, unable to speak, too lost in the heat of his touch, the way his lips moved over mine like he was starving for me. I could feel his desire, his need, in every movement, every growl, every rough caress of his hands as they roamed over my body.

He kissed me harder, his lips bruising, his teeth grazing my bottom lip in a way that made me gasp, a mix of pleasure and pain that sent a jolt of electricity through me. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders, my body arching against his as I matched his intensity, his fervor, his rough demands.

Massimo broke the kiss suddenly, his breathing ragged, his eyes blazing with a dark, dangerous light.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" His voice was low and rough. "How hard it is to stay focused, to keep my head straight when all I want to do is take you, claim you… right here, right now?"

A thrill ran through me at his words, a rush of heat pooling low in my belly.

"Then don't hold back," I whispered, my voice trembling with desire. "Take me, Massimo…"

His eyes flared, and before I could blink, he lifted me, his hands gripping my waist as he pinned me against the wall, his mouth crashing down on mine again with a fierce, unrestrained hunger. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my hands tangling in his hair as I kissed him back just as fiercely, losing myself in the raw intensity of the moment.

"God, Sofia," he growled against my lips, his breath hot and heavy. "You drive me crazy… make me want to forget everything, everyone. Except you… only you."

I moaned softly, my fingers tightening in his hair, my body pressing closer to his. "Then forget them," I whispered, my voice breathless. "Just for now… forget everything but us."

He groaned again, a deep, primal sound that made my heart race, and his lips found mine once more, devouring, desperate, like he was trying to consume every part of me and make me a part of him. His hands roamed over my body, gripping, caressing, his touch possessive and demanding.

"I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you," he murmured, his lips trailing down my neck, his breath hot against my skin. "And I'm not going to let anyone, especially not Raffaele, come between us."

I gasped, my head tilting back to give him more access, my body trembling under his touch. "I'm not going anywhere," I promised, my voice filled with resolve.

I smiled, leaning in to capture his lips again, feeling the fire between us burn brighter, hotter. We might be in the middle of a dangerous chess match, surrounded by enemies on all sides, but in that moment, I didn't care. I was his, he was mine, and that was all that mattered.

For now, that was enough.

It would have to be.

"Then show me what it means to be yours," I said softly.

A growl rumbled deep in his chest, and he pulled back slightly, his eyes burning with an intensity that took my breath away. "You don't know what you're asking for, la mia bambina ," he whispered, his tone both a warning and a promise.

"I know exactly what I'm asking for," I replied, my hands sliding down to his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath my palms. "And I want it… I want you."

He seemed to lose the last thread of his restraint at my words. His mouth crushed against mine in a bruising kiss, claiming and devouring. His hands moved over my body, rough and urgent, like he was trying to memorize every inch, every curve. I could feel his need, his desire, pulsing through him, and it sent a wave of heat pooling low in my belly.

He lifted me higher, pressing me against the wall, his body pinning me there, and I felt the hard line of his cock against me, hot and insistent. I let out a soft moan, my fingers clutching at his shoulders, my body arching into his touch.

He growled again, his lips moving to my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "Say it," he commanded, his tone thick with desire. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," I whispered, my voice breathless, my breathing ragged.

"Again," he demanded, his teeth grazing my earlobe, sending a shiver through me.

"I'm yours, Massimo," I repeated, my fingers digging into his shoulders. "Always."

A satisfied sound escaped his lips, almost a purr, and he kissed me again, deeper this time, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me closer, as if he could never get enough.

He moved us away from the wall, carrying me effortlessly across the room, his lips never leaving mine. I could feel the strength in his arms, the power in his grip, and it made my heart race, made my blood sing with excitement. He crossed the room in a few long strides, and then I felt the coolness of the leather sofa against my back as he lowered me down, his body hovering over mine, his eyes dark and stormy.

My pussy clenched knowingly. This wasn't a part of the plan, but his cock was exactly what I needed right now.

His hands roamed over me, exploring, claiming, and I arched into his touch, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Massimo…" I breathed, my fingers finding the buttons of his shirt, tugging them open, needing to feel his skin against mine.

He let out a low growl, his hands moving to help me. He pulled me to him, his skin hot and firm against mine, and I let out a soft sigh, my hands moving over his back, feeling the hard muscles beneath my touch, his erect cock against my hip.

"Do you feel that?" he asked, his voice rough, his breath hot on my neck. "How hard you make me?"

I nodded, my voice caught in my throat, unable to speak. I could feel every inch of him, every pulse of his desire, and it sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through me.

He kissed me again, hard and possessive, his hands moving down to grip my thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them. I could feel the heat of him, the raw desire that burned in his eyes, and it sent a shiver of anticipation through me.

His fingers trailed down to the hem of my dress, sliding the fabric up slowly, deliberately, teasing me with each inch. I could feel the cool air on my skin, mixing with the heat of his touch, and my breath quickened, my body aching for more.

"Please…" I begged. My core pulsed with desire, and it took everything in me to stay still when all I wanted was to fall apart on his cock.

He grinned against my lips, a dark, satisfied smile. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his hands moving higher, gripping my hips.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear, his breath hot. "I want you." His voice was thick with desire. "Right here. Right now."

"Then fuck me. Fuck your needy little fuck toy," I replied in a breathless whisper.

In one swift motion, he pulled my dress up past my hips, exposing me completely. I gasped, feeling a rush of excitement, my skin prickling with anticipation.

His hands slid down my body, rough and insistent, and I gasped as he cupped my pussy, his touch sending a shock of pleasure through me.

"Do you feel how wet you are, bella ?" he murmured, his voice a low, rumbling growl. "How much this sweet little pussy needs to be fucked?"

"Yes," I whispered, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "I feel it… I need you… please…"

He chuckled softly, his lips trailing down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin. "I love it when you beg for me," he said against my throat.

I felt his hands slide beneath me, lifting me slightly as he positioned himself between my thighs. His eyes locked on mine, dark and intense and full of promise, and he leaned down to kiss me again, his lips rough, desperate.

"You belong to me," he whispered against my lips, his voice filled with a dark, possessive edge. "Now… and forever."

And then he took me, driving his cock deep inside me. He didn't start off gentle or slow. His body moved against mine with a fierce, primal rhythm, his hands gripping me tight, holding me close as he sank into me over and over again. I cried out, my fingers digging into his back, my body arching into his as he claimed me, his mouth devouring mine, his breath hot and heavy, his cock filling me completely.

And I knew, in that moment, that there was no going back. I was his, and he was mine, and nothing would ever come between us.

Not Raffaele. Not this world.

Nothing.