Russo’s POV The morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. I blinked awake, feeling a strange sense of calm that I hadn’t known in years. My usual morning was filled with the weight of past demons and the cold resolve of a man who had built his life on control and power. But today was different. Today, I felt lighter. I lay still for a moment, staring up at the ceiling as the remnants of last night’s dream lingered at the edges of my mind. It wasn’t the fire that haunted me most now, it was the soft touch, the lullaby that had pulled me from the nightmare. My mother’s voice had always been a comfort, but last night, it was Cleo’s. Why do their voice sound so alike? I turned my head to the side and found her still there, sitting in the chair beside the bed, her head resting on her folded arms, which were propped against the mattress. She had fallen asleep in that uncomfortable position, her face relaxed, eyes closed, and for the first
Cleo’s POVThe Paris morning was calm, a soft light spilling into the room, bathing everything in a warm glow that felt almost surreal after the stormy night. I stood at the window, trying to gather my thoughts, but they kept drifting back to Russo and the unexpected vulnerability I had seen in him. Last night, I’d seen a side of him that he kept hidden from the world, a side that reminded me he wasn’t just the ruthless mafia boss who had trapped me in this twisted marriage. He was also a man haunted by his past, much like me. As much as I wanted to keep my anger and distrust intact, the image of him lost in his nightmare, sweating and mumbling in fear, had cracked something inside me. It was easier to hate him when he was nothing more than a cold-hearted manipulator. But now? Now I wasn’t sure what to feel. And that scared me more than anything.Russo moved beside me, standing close enough that I could feel the heat of his presence but not touching me. I could sense his eyes on me,
Russo's POVThe sun had barely risen, casting the Paris mansion in a soft, hazy light that made everything look deceptively calm. But the stillness was an illusion, masking the storm that raged beneath the surface. I stared out the window of our shared room, my mind still tangled in the events of the previous night. Cleo’s presence beside me had been unexpected, and her touch, so reminiscent of my mother’s, lingered like a ghost at the edge of my consciousness.The dreams had been relentless lately, pulling me back into memories I’d rather forget. But for the first time, Cleo had pulled me out, her soft lullaby chasing away the worst of the darkness. It had been a moment of weakness, one I couldn’t afford to show again. I was supposed to be the one in control, the one who never faltered. Yet, every time I looked at Cleo, I felt those walls I’d built so carefully begin to crumble.I turned away from the window, catching sight of Cleo still asleep on her side of the bed, her face peacef
Cleo's POV The announcement of the family trip had come out of nowhere, catching me completely off guard. Nonno had declared it over breakfast, his tone final and his gaze sweeping over everyone at the table. “We’ll all head to the private beach this weekend,” he’d said, his voice brokering no argument. “It’s been too long since the family spent time together. It’s time we remember what matters.”My heart had skipped a beat at the news. A beach trip meant wearing swimsuits, relaxing by the ocean, and being surrounded by Russo’s family, the very people I was still trying to convince of our perfect, loving marriage. But it wasn’t just the pressure to keep up the act that bothered me; it was the fact that I hadn’t come prepared for any of it. I had packed the basics when I was taken to Paris, but beachwear? Not a chance.After breakfast, Russo had caught me staring out at the city from the balcony, my mind racing with the logistics of this unexpected getaway. “You seem lost in thought,”
Russo’s POVThe moment Cleo said yes, it felt as though the world shifted. It wasn’t just relief that washed over me, but a rush of emotions I hadn’t let myself feel in a long time. I had planned this proposal with the intention of sealing our public image, convincing Nonno and the rest of the family that our union was real. But as I slid the ring onto Cleo’s finger and pulled her into my arms, I realized it wasn’t just an act anymore. She had become something more that I couldn’t afford to lose.After the proposal, we returned to the main beach area, where the rest of the family was lounging, playing in the sand, and soaking up the sun. Cleo slipped away to change into the bikini I’d picked for her at the mall, and I settled into a sun chair, trying to keep my composure as I waited for her to come back. I told myself that this trip was still about business, about convincing everyone that our relationship was genuine but my mind kept wandering back to her and the way her voice had tre
Cleo's POV The night air was warm and heavy, the sound of the ocean waves crashing softly against the shore just outside our room. Russo and I had returned from the beach bonfire with the family, and despite the laughter and the smiles, there was an unspoken tension that hung between us, thick and charged. I couldn’t tell if it was the lingering effect of his proposal or the way he had looked at me all day, his eyes dark with something deeper than mere attraction.The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the moon filtering through the sheer curtains, casting delicate shadows that danced across the walls. I changed into my nightdress, a simple satin slip that brushed against my skin in the most delicate way, and tried to focus on anything other than the man standing just a few feet away. Russo was by the window, his broad shoulders outlined in the faint light as he watched the waves. His presence filled the space, overwhelming and magnetic, drawing me in even when I tried to keep my d
Cleo's POV The soft morning light filtered into the room, casting a warm, golden glow over the sheets. I blinked awake, disoriented for a moment as the memories of last night rushed back. Russo’s arm was draped over me, his body warm and solid against mine. I lay still, trying to keep my breathing even, but my mind was racing. What had I done? The air was thick with the awkwardness of the morning after. My heart pounded as I carefully slid out from under Russo’s arm, trying not to wake him. I wrapped myself in the satin robe draped over the chair and tiptoed to the window, staring out at the ocean. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him; the intimacy of the night before felt raw, leaving me vulnerable in ways I hadn’t anticipated. Russo stirred behind me, and I heard the rustle of sheets as he woke up. I braced myself, pretending to be absorbed by the view outside, but I could feel his gaze on me, warm and searching. “Morning,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep. I could he
Cleo’s POVThe warmth of Russo’s arms around me lingered even after he pulled away. The air between us felt different now, more open, more raw. As I looked up at him, the awkwardness from the morning began to fade, replaced by something softer, something real. There was no mask, no pretense, just the two of us standing in the quiet room, trying to make sense of whatever this was.He was still close, his hands resting lightly on my waist, his touch sending small shivers through me. The intensity in his gaze had softened, replaced with a gentleness I wasn’t used to seeing in him. Russo wasn’t the kind of man to show vulnerability or affection easily, but today... today felt different.“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his voice low and filled with concern.I nodded, feeling the weight of my emotions begin to settle. “I think so,” I said, my voice soft but honest. “I just... I didn’t expect this.”Russo’s lips quirked into a small smile, and he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair b