Ex Boyfriend.

t absorbed the heat of the summer and returned a nearly tangible humidity that clung to the skin and made breathing feel heavy. It was there that

hough in reality, all I cared about was that no one suspected what I truly thought. The light was dim, only a few old spotlights

an intruder in his kingdom, even though we hadn't exchanged a word yet. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were fixed on an indeterminate point, but when he lifte

rolled voice, without moving. "

ps seemed stuck, lacking the strength to expr

now every corner of this pl

tying us together without either of us wanting to admit it. I noticed his eyes scanning every detail

ad an edge. "There are traditions, loyalties, and a history you

what I was getting into, that my intentions went far beyond the illusion of an arranged marriage. Bu

dded, stepping a little closer. "Not everything you see i

xture inside me: attraction and rejection, fascination and fear. He was a man who commanded both respect and fear, an enigma w

d him with a mixture of admiration and caution. And within that web of emotions, I realized that Nicolo

tingling with every word. I wanted to know more, but I also wanted to protect myself,

" I asked, putting on the façade of

that didn't quite so

le nor a clean business. That your commitment to Marco isn'

e shadows of the barrels s

ping even closer, almost brushing against me w

was hoping to find power, security, money, a place where I could stop being invisibl

, the smell of wine and wet wood as mute witnesses

Nicolo was still watching me, his cold,

. "Because in this house, everything is paid for. And somet

shifted in an instant. The winery wasn't just a place to store wine; it

consumed me: I wanted to run and stay; I wanted to hate him and desire

e I had left behind. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my fast-beating heart, my hands still sweating, thou

did that really mean? What had happened with Marco? What secrets did this family hid

ding, but everyone worked to make sure everything went well, moving cautiously, as if an invisible hurricane was approachin

" she asked in a low voice, not botheri

ng to sound casual, though a part of me wanted to screa

nd, without saying mor

n't just a wedding; it's a game where no one wi

dding with Marco to consolidate our position. But it also made me think of Nic

deep voice, the way his words had pierced through my armor of sarcasm. I closed my eyes an

fail. Not now. I had