VALERIA

Light pierces through the blinds, tearing the room's comfortable darkness. I roll over, shielding my face-then freeze at the sound of a chuckle. One eye snaps open.

"Holy shit!" I place a hand on my chest. "You scared me to shit."

"Rise and shine, Valeria." Dante is about to drag off the covers when I reach for them, pulling them against my body. His lips twitch into that smug, challenging smile I hate to admit I like.

"You don't get to barge in and wake me up like it's high school," I place a hand on my waist, squaring my shoulders.

"Well, it's my house," he says lazily, tugging harder like I'm a kid fighting over candy.

My grip slips, and I place a second hand on the covers. "I'm your wife, so..."

Dante's eyes widen, his grip loosening slightly, and I take advantage of his surprise and pull again. It falls out of his hands easily, and I mirror his previous expression.

"For someone jobless, you have quite a way with your words," he says slowly, his eyes moving carefully over my face as though he's seeing me for the first time.

"I've been told," I shrug. I lay back on the bed, ready to return to sleep when Dante yanks the covers in one swift motion, hanging them on his shoulder.

"Hey!" I shout. "That's cheating, Mr. Romano!"

"I get that a lot." Dante shrugs, eyes glinting with mischief, that stupid smirk that gets me every time displaying his dimple. I flip him off. He just rolls his eyes. "As much as I'd love to see more of those priceless expressions, I actually came to tell you to prepare for lunch this afternoon. Mr. & Mrs. Smith, my business partners, are hosting. This'll be our first public event as a couple."

"And you didn't care to tell me earlier?" I raise a brow.

"Don't be a smart mouth, Valeria," he says flatly. My lips part to speak, but before I can make out a word, Dante throws the cover, and it lands right on my face.

I throw it off, glaring at him. Green eyes stare back at me, amusement swirling in them, hands tucked into his sweats.

"Really?" I roll my eyes, rising to my feet. At this rate, he'll likely toss me out of the bed. Dante gives me a bored look, the type that says, "So, whatchu gonna do now, princess?"

"You've got three hours, Bellissima," he says, turning away, laid-back steps eating the distance slowly. "Dress code's all white."

"Thanks for the heads up," I say sarcastically, waving at his moving figure.

"You're welcome," Dante hollers back.

"Bully," I mutter under my breath.

"I heard you." With that, the door shuts with a soft click. I stare hard at the door, fighting a half-smile, half-frown. I'll give it to Dante for being an annoying dickhead. The smile wins.

A dickhead that has you smiling, that small voice in my head says.

♠♠♠

I smooth my dress for the umpteenth time and frown. Again.

I'm dressed in an A-cut romper from Chanel with a square neckline that stops just below my collarbone, a small white shoulder bag made from straw, dark shades paired with white peep-toe kitten heels, and gold jewelry. Makeup-light, in that clean-girl way I've finally gotten right thanks to overpriced cosmetics.

I let out a sigh at my reflection. "There's nothing to stress over," I tell myself. "It's just a silly all-white party. If you can make Walmart clothes look chic, then you'll look fab in these designers," I press my hands to my chest, breathing slowly.

"Walk that room like you-"

A knock on the door distracts me from completing my pep talk. The handle turns twice. Good thing I'd already locked it. I roll my eyes, knowing very well it's no other person than Dante. That man doesn't know how to wait.

I march to the door, unlock it, and step aside. His brows lift slowly, eyes darkening as they roam over me with feline precision. There's not a shred of shame on his face, and I feel like a painting under inspection. Dante's gaze lingers at the curve of my hips, intense eyes passionately tracing every line with an abruptness that makes me press my thighs closer-partly from self-consciousness but mostly because of the heat pooling in my stomach.

His gaze returns to mine, and my breath catches in my throat. "You look hot, Bellissima." My cheeks flame with heat, and I roll my eyes.

I clear my throat. "Next time you should knock."

"Why?"

"Because..." Nothing comes to my head immediately. "What if I was naked?" I blurt out my weak defense, and regret hits me immediately. Dante's eyes grow dark, a glazed look in them.

His gaze lingers on my lips before he chuckles darkly. "And?" His voice is low, rough in that I just woke up from bed way that makes my pussy clench. Again. I bite my lip and step back, my heart performing an excited flip in my chest, my breathing uneven.

Dante closes the space in one stride, his arm locking around my waist. "I haven't even touched you, and you're already trembling," he scoffs, twisting a strand of my curls, eyes still locked on mine.

"You're going to ruin my makeup..." I say in a breathless whisper, turning my face away.

Dante grips my chin firmly, tilting it to face him in one move. "Say the word, and I'll back off."

I blink hard, struggling in his grip. My treacherous pussy contracts hard, and my toes curl, slick arousal trickling into my panties. My lips part slightly, and I let out a faint whimper. Fuck! And I thought I was the only one who had a way with my words. Dante lowers his lips to my ear, the heat of his nose skimming over my neck. My hands travel to his chest, gripping his breast pocket, and I shut my eyes.

"Don't make me repeat myself," he warns, stepping back.

"Don't you dare-" the words die in my throat at the sight of a quirked brow, and my lips clamp shut.

"Please, Dante, I want you to touch me." Dante nods his head encouragingly. "Isn't that all?" I snap, frustration straining in my voice.

Dante shakes his head, sliding his tongue over his lower lip.

"God damnit, I'm already horny!" I cry out, but that only makes his brow rise impossibly high. "Fine! I want to feel the heat of your hands on my body. I want you to taste your lips on mine," my voice drops to a desperate plea, "turn me over on that couch and fuck me till I pass out-"

"Time out," Dante says, turning away. "We have a party to attend."

My eyes literally roll out of my socket as I stare at the man in front of me.

"Wait-what?" I move hurriedly to his side, dragging his elbow. "What the fuck was-"

"What was that? Making sure we attend the party on time."

"You literally just turned me on," I hiss, jabbing his chest.

"But if you ask me on a deeper level, I'll say I was taming the shrew," Dante says calmly. Then, opening the door, he offers his hand, a poker-faced expression on his face. "Shall we?"

"Whatever," I mutter angrily, marching past his outstretched hand.

♠♠♠♠

I'm still angry with Dante throughout the ride, so fucking angry that I stick in AirPods the whole time. I don't think he really cared since he was mostly answering calls, and yes, I also sat very far from him just to make things clear.

Too bad I'm stuck holding his hand-part of the performance, apparently.

Dante, ever the socialite, introduces me to everyone. I lose count by the fifth introduction.

"Excuse me for a second," I whisper into Dante's ear, slipping away from his grip.

"Bathroom?" I nod.

"Ask an usher to show you around." I'm about to move when his grip tightens. "Don't get lost. I'll be here waiting."

I follow Dante's instruction, glad to finally pee. The bathroom is empty, save for a stall where someone is flushing.

I quickly pee and start to retouch my makeup when something snaps beside me. Someone snickers beside me.

"Valentine, is it?" My head snaps so fast, my hair whips against my face...

Alex

VALERIA

She eyes me lazily, like she's doesn't expect to find anything exciting about me.

"Alessio," I smile brightly, wiping my hand. "Good to see you. You look unusually calm today."

Her eyes snap at mine. "– Did someone finally slip Ven into your coffee?"

"Oh, Valentino, I don't drink coffee," she says in a matter-of-fact way, flipping hair over her shoulder. "Too much caffeine. But you wouldn't know, you're too Colombian for that." She psts, waving off my comment.

Right. Colombians and tea. How original.

"Ha! You're right," I say, lips curving. "I'll cut down on caffeine, but you know your Italian men." I roll my eyes in mock tiredness. "Dante tasted my coffee once and can't get enough. Nothing beats Colombian coffee, I guess." I only realize the double context when a flicker of envy flashes through Alex's eyes. Her neck is set at a stiff angle, lips twitching, eyes narrowing.

"Nice meeting you," I give her a small wave, leaving her behind. The bathroom door slams behind me – angry footsteps follow.

"You're just a cheap thrill. If you think he'll marry you, you're more delusional than they said." Angry venom seethes through her voice, heavy and poisonous.

I pause in my tracks and turning to face her.

"You mean the cheap thrill he dumped you for?" I arch an unimpressed brow. "Surely you can do better."

"Shut your trap, Valeria." Her jaw ticks, and she takes a threatening step forward.

"Ah," I place a hand on my chest, a small pout on my lips. "I'm glad we've finally cut through the wrong-name bullshit and are calling things how they are."

She straightens, arms folded as she gives me a pointed look. "Dante could pick a better choice for a wife, but I guess when a random girl threw herself at you for a one-night stand is willing to stoop lower, you take advantage of the opportunity."

Alex's smile grows to a smirk, then lowering her voice, she adds, "If I were you, I wouldn't be so confident. Word is you're just a contract partner-from a poor family, no less." She flips her hair over her shoulder, eyes shining with satisfaction.

"Dante and I might have our fights, but he doesn't keep much from me. Ciao, Valentino!"

Alex spins around, heels clicking as she makes her dramatic exit. I wait-just long enough for her to pass, then reach out, tapping her shoulder lightly. She pauses.

Leaning in close, I whisper against her ear, my smile never faltering. " You should really stop mentioning me so much, Alex. People might start thinking you're obsessed."

Her shoulders stiffen before she walks off faster.

Bitch.

It takes every fucking ounce of self-control not to whack her with my bag. I let my mask slip long enough to glare a hole into her dumb blonde head. Confusion and anger root me in place. How did she know we met at the club? And the fucking contract? Diego is the most secretive soul I know; it can't be him.

My stomach churns with dread; no one is supposed to know about the contract. Could Dante really have told her about it?

I blow out a breath, wondering if Florence told her about the contract when I remember Dante didn't deny or affirm her assumption. But even that would be enough to start a rumor, wouldn't it?

Shoving my curls back, I march straight to Dante. He's right where I left him-talking to an older man and a much younger woman. The sound of chatter and soft R&B drowns out their conversation, but as I draw closer, it gets more audible.

"About that," I hear Dante say before he turns to face me, eyes lighting up immediately. "– Here she is, my girlfriend." He has on that rare smile that's annoyingly dazzling-probably the one he uses on investors.

"I was just telling the Smiths about you." His hands glide easily to my waist. I straighten my spine at his contact, the heat of his body suddenly alluring, and my anger reduces by a notch. "Wallen, Nicole," he tips his glass at the older man and his wife, "this is Valeria. Valeria, Wallen and Nicole Smith, the hosts."

I smile sweetly, ignoring the way Mr. Smith, who's probably pushing seventy-five, eyes me greedily like he could eat me on the spot. Gross. His wife is no better, openly eyeing Dante like he's candy. Her over-whitened teeth won't stop flashing unsolicited smiles, eyes batting seductively.

"It's nice to meet you both," I say with a forced grin.

"Nice to meet you too." Nicole's smile tightens. "She's... very pretty," she says finally, voice coated in sugar. Her gaze flicks to Dante, and for a heartbeat, something bitter flashes behind her smile.

"Now I see why you've been hiding her, son," Mr. Smith chuckles, taking my hand. "She's stunning."

Dante laughs humorlessly, the sound smooth but laced with warning. "Guilty. Hard to introduce someone when everyone tries to steal her." His hand settles at my waist, firm.

Wallen-or more like Grandpa Smith-kisses my knuckles, leaving a slobbery trail and I silently curse Dante for bringing me here when Wallen proceeds to send me a small wink.

Dante's gaze darkens. "I'd appreciate it if you kept your hands to yourself, Wallen." The older man laughs it off, but I catch the subtle twitch in Dante's jaw before his expression resets into that investor smile.

Nicole either doesn't care or pretends not to since she's sending Dante every body language in history, practically radiating lust. I smile at her to meet a frown.

Well, well.

"Can I have a quick word with you, babe?" I say softly, placing a hand on Dante's chest. A flicker of amusement passes in his eyes, brow arched subtly.

"Sure thing, Bellissima," he murmurs, then turning to the Smiths, "Excuse me for a second." We move away, and the minute we're out of earshot, I make a move to jab at his rib, but he grabs my wrist mid-air.

"Talk," he hisses, yanking me close.

"That's for not warning me your ex would be here," I hiss, glancing around to be sure no one can hear us.

"Alex," he says thoughtfully, raking a hand through his hair.

"Dante, she mentioned our agreement." His eyes snap to mine, cold and calculating, grip tightening on my wrist. "She knows you picked me from the club. She also said everyone here knows we're a contract couple." I gulp hard, breath heavy in my chest. "I haven't told anyone, I swear, so it has to be from your end," I rasp.

Dante goes still, the lines on his forehead forming into shallow ridges. A tick forms in his jaw, angular lines hardening his features as thick green veins pulse along his neck. His grip loosens, and I take a step backward.

Dark green eyes meet mine. "Get in the car."

"Dant–"

"Now."

His voice is deadly calm, leaving me no room to argue. For the first time, I say nothing-and obey.