SIXTY-NINE.

Upon entering the lavish hotel building, some random woman saunters directly towards us and blocks our path with a heated look blazing in her eyes.

She slips her hand inside Alessandros' tuxedo jacket and rests her palm over his beating heart as she reaches him.

“Don Valentino, it’s been a while.” She hums with sexual seduction.

My eyes grow large as I steal a glance in Alessandros’ direction, taking note that his features harden and his eyes slightly narrow as he drinks her in.

“Ciara.” He says in a hoarsely clipped manner.

I direct my attention to this Ciara woman, scorned with jealousy.

There is no denying that she is drop-dead gorgeous. She oozes elegance and if I were to use the word beautiful to try to describe her, it would be a serious offence for an understatement of the century.

Her high cheekbones accentuate her slender monolid eyes with her perfectly shaped brows.

Natural blonde curls frame her oval-shaped face with a low tip bridged nose that looks like it's