The conference room door clicked shut behind her, but Mia barely heard it over the pounding of her own heartbeat. The moment the presentation ended, she had slipped out, needing a moment to gather herself. She had done it—delivered her pitch with poise, answered every question with confidence. But none of that mattered. Because the entire time, she had felt his eyes on her. Marco Valentino. The man who now stood at the center of her world in ways she couldn’t understand. The same man who, for the briefest second during the presentation, had looked at her like he knew her—like he was peeling back layers of time, trying to place her in a memory just out of reach. She exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her chest. It was just business. That was all. Yet, deep down, she knew that was a lie. Mia barely had time to steady her breathing before her boss’s voice rang out behind her. “Miss Cruz.” She turned sharply, her pulse still erratic, to see Mr. Gravitas standing in th
The scent of old paper and freshly brewed coffee filled the bookstore, wrapping Mia in a familiar comfort. Sunlight streamed through the large glass windows, casting a warm glow over the wooden shelves stacked with stories waiting to be discovered. It was a quiet Saturday morning, the kind she usually cherished. But not today. Today, she was on edge. Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted a row of hardcovers, pretending to be engrossed in her task. She had been doing this all morning—straightening books, reorganizing displays, making small talk with Chloe—all in an effort to ignore the gnawing unease in her stomach. Because he was coming. Marco Valentino. She swallowed hard, sneaking a glance at the clock hanging above the counter. 10:02 AM. He hadn’t given her a specific time, but she knew he would show up whenever he pleased. That was the kind of man he was. The bell above the door jingled, and her breath caught. She turned, pulse hammering, only to find an elder
MIA CRUZI took a deep breath before stepping out of the storeroom, my hands tightening around the book samples. I had only been in there for a few minutes, but it had been enough to gather myself—or so I thought.The moment I looked up, my stomach did a ridiculous flip.Marco was still there.He leaned casually against one of the bookshelves, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching me with an amused expression. His dark eyes held a knowing glint, like he could see right through me.“You sure took your time,” he mused.I forced a small laugh, shifting the samples in my grip. “Just… making sure I got the right books.”He hummed as if he didn’t believe me but didn’t push. Instead, he straightened, his gaze settling on me in a way that made my skin prickle.“So,” he said smoothly, “since I’m already here, how about we grab a coffee? You must have a lot of questions.”Coffee?I blinked, caught
MIA CRUZ The blaring of my alarm jolted me awake, dragging me out of a restless sleep. I groaned, rolling over and slamming the snooze button before burying my face in my pillow. Just five more minutes. Except five minutes turned into ten, and by the time I finally forced myself up, the sun was already peeking through my window, casting a warm glow across my room. Sunday. The realization hit me fully, sending a jolt of awareness through my still-sleepy mind. I was meeting Marco today. At his house. I shook off the nerves creeping in and stretched, rubbing my eyes before dragging myself out of bed. My feet padded across the cool wooden floor as I made my way to the bathroom. A splash of cold water to my face did wonders in shaking off the last remnants of sleep. I brushed my teeth, letting my mind wander as I moved through my morning routine—washing my face, tying my blonde hair into a loose bun, and stepping into the shower. The hot water loosened the tension in my should
The grand foyer stretched before me, a masterpiece of timeless elegance and quiet opulence. The floors were polished marble, smooth and gleaming beneath my feet, reflecting the soft glow of the golden chandelier hanging above. High ceilings made the space feel impossibly vast, and intricate crown moldings framed the room with refined detail. A sweeping staircase curved to the second floor, its railing carved from dark mahogany, polished to perfection. The scent of leather, wood, and something distinctly Marco—masculine and expensive—filled the air. I took a slow breath, trying not to seem too affected by the sheer grandeur surrounding me. This wasn’t just wealth. It was power, woven into every inch of the space. Marco shut the door behind me, the quiet click echoing in the vast room. I felt his presence at my back, close but not touching. “Come on,” he said smoothly, walking ahead. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable.” I followed him through the open archway that led into a
MIA CRUZThe air crackled with tension, heavy and charged, wrapping around us like an unspoken promise. My breath came in uneven gasps, my pulse hammering against my ribs in a frantic rhythm. Marco’s fingers rested lightly on my waist, a touch that felt both possessive and teasing, his lips hovering just inches from mine. Every nerve in my body was aware of him—of his presence, his power, the quiet restraint in his stance. And yet, despite the space he left between us, I could feel it—the unmistakable heat radiating off his skin.His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, filled with something dark and unreadable. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, lazy and knowing.“You’re blushing, Mia.”I felt my cheeks burn hotter, my stomach twisting at the teasing edge in his voice.“I—” I started, but words failed me. How the hell was I supposed to respond to that?Marco chuckled, the deep, rich sound rolling over me like warm honey.
MIA 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
The moment I stepped out of the car, the cool evening air kissed my skin, sending a slight shiver down my spine. The entrance to the gala was nothing short of breathtaking—golden lights illuminated the grand building, luxury cars lined the driveway, and men in sharp tuxedos escorted women draped in elegance. But none of it compared to the man walking toward me. Marco Valentino. His presence commanded attention, his dark eyes locked onto me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. He looked effortlessly powerful in his tailored suit, the crisp black fabric molding to his frame in a way that was both refined and utterly sinful. A slow smirk tugged at his lips as he reached me, his gaze roaming over my figure in a way that sent warmth pooling in my stomach. “You wear it well,” he murmured, voice smooth as silk. I swallowed, heart racing. “Thank you… for the dress.” His smirk dee
Dave’s POVThe whisky burned his throat, but it was nothing compared to the fire in his chest.He hadn’t touched a drink in years, but after what happened at the library, self-control felt like a joke.He paced his apartment like a caged animal, heart thudding in his ears. The moment Mia turned and saw Marco, something in her face shifted. Relief. Like she’d been rescued.From him.“She made me believe…” he muttered, gripping the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles turned white. “All those late-night book talks. The way she laughed when I told her she was the only one who actually got me…”He grabbed the glass again and downed the last of it, staring into the empty bookshelf across the room. It used to be filled. Now, only a few titles remained—ones he couldn’t bear to part with. Her favorites.“I was there for her. Not him.” His voice cracked. “I listened. I cared.”But none of it mattered now. Because Mia had chosen Marco. The billionaire. The threat.Dave’s hands curled into fist
Mia’s POVThe sky had long darkened, and the golden hues of dusk gave way to deep indigo. Inside the bookstore, the soft lamplight cast a cozy, flickering glow on the wood-paneled walls. It smelled like old paper, fresh espresso, and cinnamon muffins—the comforting signature scent of Chapters & Coffee.Marco.He just stood there, the city lights reflecting off his dark coat, hair tousled like he’d run a hand through it a dozen times. There was something almost wild in his eyes. Not violent—just intense. Caged. Like he was battling something inside him that didn’t want to stay quiet anymore.My mom, bless her timing, gave him a suspicious once-over from behind the counter before murmuring, “I’ll be back in ten. We’re out of milk.” She gave me a tight smile—one that said we’re going to talk about this later—then slipped out the door.The air shifted. The moment she left, it felt like the entire store sighed into stillness.Marco moved closer, hands in his coat pockets, his gaze never le
Marco’s POVThe sun had dipped behind the skyline, casting the city in a gold-tinged gloom as I watched from the driver’s seat of the black Aston Martin. The hum of the engine had gone cold. I hadn’t moved in nearly twenty minutes. Not since she walked out of that glass building—Luxe Visions—like she was carrying a thousand invisible bricks on her back.Mia Cruz.The woman who made me question every rule I’d lived by, every line I’d drawn to keep people out.Her shoulders were tense beneath the tailored beige coat she wore, the collar flipped up like armor against the late evening chill. Her steps weren’t rushed, but they weren’t steady either. Each one looked like she had to convince herself to take it. I watched as she paused at the corner, her head tilting toward the sky for just a second like she needed to remind herself how to breathe.She didn’t see me.Didn’t know I’d been here since noon—since just after I left her standing in that diner, after I told her I couldn’t walk away
Mia’s POVThe bus stop was quieter than usual, just the low hum of the city waking up around me. I pulled my coat tighter against the chill, wishing it could somehow shield me from the thoughts that kept circling my mind like vultures. Marco Valentino wasn’t supposed to be a part of my life—he wasn’t supposed to be anything at all. And yet, here I was, thinking about him when I should be focused on the day ahead.I stepped onto the bus when it pulled up, the scent of fresh coffee and early morning newspaper clippings mingling with the stale air of the crowded ride. I grabbed a seat near the back, hoping for a quiet ride before the chaos of work took over.The bus jerked to a stop as we hit traffic, and I glanced over to see Dave standing in the aisle. His tall frame loomed just behind a man in a dark suit, his posture stiff. He caught my gaze, and for a second, I thought I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something unreadable. But then his face softened, like he was trying to be
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
Mia barely heard a word Dave was saying.Her mind was still stuck in him.Marco Valentino.That look in his eyes.Those words.Mine.She shivered — except it wasn’t from the cold.It was from the way her body remembered the heat of his presence even after he was gone.Get a grip, Mia.Dave was still rambling awkwardly beside her, hands shoved deep into his pockets like he wasn’t sure if he was about to get whacked in broad daylight.“…seriously, Mia. That guy’s intense. Like, mafia movie final boss level intense.”She almost laughed.If only he knew.But all she managed was a small, exhausted smile.“I’m fine, Dave.”“You sure? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure he wanted to rip my head off.”Mia sighed. “He didn’t.”“Not yet,” Dave mumbled under his breath.That actually made her chuckle.Soft. Tired. But real.Her feet ached from standing so long, her head throbbed from everything that just happened, and the idea of squeezing herself into an overcrowded bus after surviving Marco Valentino felt
The rain had picked up again, soft droplets clinging to the diner windows, turning the world outside into a blurry haze. Inside, the lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting a warm glow on the silver table where Mia sat, nervously tracing the rim of her glass.Dave was talking — about books, about some ridiculous historical fact that normally would’ve had her full attention — but tonight, her mind was elsewhere.Marco.Her phone sat in her lap, buzzing occasionally like it was mocking her.I’m on my way to the diner.Her heart skipped for the hundredth time.Was he serious? Would he really show up here?“Mia,” Dave’s voice broke through her thoughts, softer this time. Almost careful. “You’re somewhere else tonight.”She blinked, forcing a weak smile. “Sorry. Just… distracted.”Dave gave a short chuckle, but there was no humor in it. His eyes flickered down to her phone like he already knew exactly who was distracting her.“That friend of yours?” His tone was light — but God, the bite b
Mia sighed, running a hand through her hair as she stepped into her bedroom. As much as she wanted to linger in the quiet morning with Marco, today was still a workday. Reality was waiting.She pulled open her wardrobe, grabbing a fresh outfit. Behind her, she could hear Marco moving around the living room.By the time she emerged, dressed in a fitted blouse and tailored pants, he was standing by the window, phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low and steady as he spoke.“Come back now,” he told the driver. A brief pause. Then, “Yeah, the rain’s lighter. Just be careful.”Mia glanced outside. The heavy storm had passed, leaving behind a soft drizzle. The streets glistened under the muted morning light, damp but no longer flooded.Marco ended the call and turned toward her, his sharp gaze raking over her appearance. Something flickered in his eyes, but he didn’t comment.“You’re heading to work,” he stated rather than ask
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