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CHAPTER 13: Three days Longing
Last Updated:
2025-03-30 17:06:00MIA CRUZ
Three days. Three days, and I hadn’t seen Marco. I told myself I didn’t care. I told myself I had more important things to focus on—work, my bookstore, my life. But my mind had other plans. Sitting at my desk, I tapped my pen against my notepad, staring blankly at the emails I was supposed to be responding to. The words blurred together, my focus slipping every time I remembered the way his lips had lingered just inches from mine. The way he pulled away like he was testing me, teasing me. The way I had wanted him to stay. I groaned under my breath and squeezed my eyes shut. Get a grip, Mia. “You okay?” I snapped out of my daze, looking up to see my co-worker, Naomi, peering at me from across the desk. She raised a brow, eyes full of suspicion. “Yeah. Fine,” I lied, sitting up straighter and forcing my attention back to my laptop. She smirked
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Marco leaned in, his nose brushing against mine, his breath warm and intoxicating. My own breath hitched, my lips parting instinctively.And then—He pulled away.A slow, deliberate retreat, his lips curving into something smug, something wicked.Heat flared in my cheeks as frustration tangled with the ache in my chest.“Are you—” I swallowed, gripping the fabric of my dress. “Are you teasing me?”Marco smirked. “Maybe.”I narrowed my eyes, but before I could retort, he leaned in again, his fingers brushing against my wrist, his voice a low murmur against my ear.“But when I finally take what I want, Mia,” he whispered, “you won’t be questioning anything.”My stomach flipped, my skin burning where he touched me.And just like that, he straightened, composed as ever, like he hadn’t just turned my entire world upside down.I exhaled shakily, my heart still racing as he walked ahead, effo
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Marco’s POVShe had no idea what she was doing to him.No fucking idea.Marco sat alone in his penthouse, lights dim, a glass of whiskey untouched in his hand, staring out at the city that knelt beneath his feet like it belonged to him.Because it did.Everything he wanted, he took.Everything he desired, he owned.Everything he touched, he marked.That was the world of Marco Valentino.Until her.Until Mia.The little waitress with fire in her eyes and a softness in her soul that made him feel…Unsteady.Off-balance.Human.And God, he hated feeling human.He wasn’t supposed to want someone like her. Sweet. Uncomplicated. Broke. Ordinary.But ordinary had never looked so fucking beautiful.Ordinary had never smiled at him like she had — without fear. Without expectation.Mia was the first woman in his entire cursed existence who didn’t want anything from him… except maybe for him to leave her alone.But it was too late for that.Way too fucking late.He’d crossed the line the moment
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Mia woke to the soft patter of rain against the window, the storm from last night reduced to a gentle drizzle. For a moment, she stayed still, letting the warmth of the bed and the steady rhythm of Marco’s breathing beside her keep her grounded.Then it hit her—Marco was still here.Her eyes flickered open, and the first thing she saw was him. He lay on his side, one arm resting beneath his head, the other draped loosely over the duvet. His face, usually hardened with intensity, was relaxed in sleep. The sharp angles of his jaw, the faint crease between his brows, the slow rise and fall of his chest—it was a side of him she’d never seen before.A flutter stirred in her stomach.Carefully, she shifted, trying not to wake him. But as soon as she moved, his eyes cracked open, dark and unreadable.For a second, they just stared at each other.Then his lips twitched. “You’re watching me, little mouse.”Heat rushed to her chee
