Chapter 1: The Unexpected Kiss

Ruby's POV

“I can’t do this, Dad.”

“I can’t marry a man I don’t know.” I try to protest while my father, Aolo Ferretti speaks, his voice reflecting the finality of his decision.

“It’s for the best, Piccolo,” he responds. “You know I love you and wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. This will benefit you and the family.”

“Benefit me?” I exclaim in outrage. “How can marrying a man I don’t know possibly be good for me, Dad?”

“Ruby, I know the Petraki family. They are good people. Urso has been my best friend since we were kids,” he says, pacing. “This marriage is in your best interest.”

“He’s going to move to Milan. He’ll join you in the family business, and we’ll merge our businesses together. You won’t have to leave home,” my dad explains.

I can never believe that my dad is doing this solely for my well-being. I gently shake him off and walk over to the window in his study, gazing out at our estate.

“What about Diavolo?” I ask, my gaze outside.

Diavolo, my boyfriend for over a year, I met at the orphanage where I volunteer. He’s a hardworking man, and I think I love him. He’s tried hard to win my dad’s approval, who worries about our social status difference.

“What about him?” my father mumbles, avoiding my gaze.

“Papa, what did you do?” I ask, narrowing my eyes as I confront him.

“I did what I thought was best for you,” he explains quietly, trying not to upset me.

He looks remorseful. “Diavolo isn’t the right man for you, and we both know it. You’re only dating him to punish me for interfering in your dating life and introducing you to all those eligible bachelors,” he accuses.

I take a deep breath to calm down. There might be some truth in what my father is saying, but it doesn’t stop the nagging feeling that he’s once again meddling in my love life. Placing my hands on his desk, I lock eyes with him and ask, “What did you do, Papa?”

“I offer him 5 million dollars to leave you, and he accepts. He cashes the check today,” he admits quickly.

Hearing this leaves me in an instant shock and I sink into a nearby chair, feeling very foolish.

“I’m sorry, bambino. I don’t mean to hurt you,” my dad tries to explain. “At least now we know why he’s with you, and now he’s gone.”

Despite my anger toward my dad, the pain of realizing that Diavolo has accepted his money cuts deeper. Would nobody ever love me for who I am? Am I nothing more than a source of income?

I rise and quietly leave the room. I intend to go upstairs to my room, but the anger rushes back like a torrent.

Parking in front of his house stirs memories. I clench my hands on the steering wheel and take a deep breath.

I exit the car and approach his door, the sound of my Jimmy Choo heels clicking on the pavement filling me with determination. I knock on the door and don’t wait long before hearing footsteps approaching.

The moment he sees my face, his smile fades.

“Your father told you?” he asks, opening the door wider and stepping back to let me in. I walk to the living room.

“Why did you do it?” I ask.

“I need the money,” he responds with his back against the wall.

“It’s all a lie then,” I state the obvious.

His face contorts as if in pain. “God, no. I love you. That’s the truth. But I need the money for us,” he explains, stepping closer to hold my hands.

I scoff. He must think I’m a complete fool.

“Us?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Yes. I needed the money to expand my business. When my business thrives and I can take care of you as you’re accustomed to, your father will have no choice but to respect us,” he defends his actions.

“My father will never respect you now. He will only see you as the man who accepted his money in exchange for his daughter,” I bitterly laugh. “Frankly, I can’t either.

“What are you saying?” he inquires, gazing into my eyes.

“This is over. It should never have gone this far,” I say, taking my hand away and moving to leave. He moves with me, blocking my path to the door.

“No, I don’t agree. I’ll give the money back. I can’t lose you,” he says frantically, running his hands through his black hair.

“It’s too late,” I reply, walking past him.

“Ruby, please. We can work this out,” he pleads. I continue walking until I reach the door and grasp the handle. Then I turn to face him.

“Why not ask me for the money?” I question, concern in my eyes.

He appears torn, and a comforting embrace seems tempting, but he speaks softly, “Pride. I didn’t want you to think I was with you for the money,” his voice tinged with shame.

A cold realization strikes me, a fear I’d harbored in a partner now confirmed. I exit, tears streaming down my cheeks, and head to my car.

Driving aimlessly through blurred vision wasn’t the best idea, but it felt necessary. I pull up at a bar, the guilt weighing on me. Taking a seat, I order a glass of red wine.

The bartender serves me, and I savor the taste, not as exquisite as my family’s own.

“Someone who knows good wine,” a voice to my left comments, and I turn to see an almost unreal Adonis.

Flustered, I reply, “I’ve always appreciated good wine.”

“Just good wine?” he grins, my cheeks warming.

“I enjoy the finer things. How about you?”

“I appreciate everything God created, currently, what must be God’s masterpiece,” he says, his smile inducing butterflies.

“What is it?” I ask.

“You,” he answers. My blush deepens.

“God must have spent his time on you. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever seen,” he continues.

“I’m not sure what to say,” I respond, biting my lip.

“Surely someone’s told you how beautiful you are?”

“Well, yes, my father always says so, but he’s obliged to.”

“Your boyfriend?"

“He used to,” I admit.

“Used to?” he probes.

“I just broke up with him for taking money from my father to end our relationship. So, this is a one-person pity party?”

“It is,”

“Well, your boyfriend is terrible. And since I don’t want anything from you, I think it’s only right to let you know that you’re beautiful,”

“T-thank you,” I stutter and take another sip of my wine.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, taking a sip from his glass, which I believe is whiskey.

“Do you come to this part of town often?” I inquire to keep the conversation going and fill the charged atmosphere between us. I’ve never been so attracted to a man before. It’s like sparks and electricity are flowing back and forth between us. I furrow my brow as I wonder if he feels it too.

“Actually, I’m new in town,” he responds.

“Oh.” I almost want to offer to show him around, but then I remember the conversation I had with my dad earlier in the evening.

It would be so easy to offer to show him around town and spend more time with him.

Unfortunately, although I may be single, I’m not available. I sigh, thinking it’s better to end it now.

I signal to the waiter and then turn to my mysterious companion.

“I’m sorry, I have to call it a night. It was nice meeting you,” I say, reaching for my purse to get my wallet, but he beats me to it and pays for both our drinks, leaving a tip.

“You didn’t have to,” I complain. He smiles and shakes his head. “You’re welcome.” He stands up as well, and I raise an eyebrow at him. He laughs. “I’m turning in for the night too. I might as well walk you to your car.”

When we step outside, I exhale. He walks with me to my car, and I open the car door, facing him. “Um... Goodnight,” I say.

He smiles in an enigmatic way and tilts his head as if he’s pondering something. Then he puts his hand on my waist, pulling me closer, and slowly lowers his head, giving me a chance to pull away, but I don’t. He presses his lips to mine, and the sensation that’s been growing in my stomach blooms and courses throughout my body.

He kisses me slowly until I part my lips, and he deepens the kiss. His tongue meets mine, and I shiver. He tastes like mint, whiskey, and pure masculinity. His hand on my waist presses me even closer until my chest brushes against his.

I forget about everything else, wrap my hands around his neck and completely lose myself in this stranger’s kiss.