Lorenzo guided me up the wide staircase, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back. Every place his fingers touched felt warm, like a faint hum of electricity running beneath my skin.

I kept my eyes fixed on the plush carpet beneath my shoes, my heart still thumping against my ribs.

The house was quiet, but it didn't feel empty. It felt full of power, full of the three men who ran it. And walking beside Lorenzo,the boy I used to sneak glances at through my window, now fully grown into a gorgeous, dangerous man made my mouth go dry.

"You're very quiet, tesoro," Lorenzo said softly, breaking the silence.

I looked up at him through my lashes, swallowing hard. "I'm just... trying to take it all in."

Lorenzo chuckled, a rich, smooth sound that made my toes curl in my shoes. He stopped in front of a pair of polished wooden doors at the end of the long hallway.

"This is your room," he said, turning to face me.

He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. The thin fabric of his shirt stretched over his broad shoulders, and my eyes traitorously dropped to the top two buttons he left undone, revealing a hint of smooth skin and dark hair.

I quickly snapped my eyes back up to his face, my cheeks burning pink. He caught me looking, and the wicked smirk on his lips widened.

"Do you like what you see, Amelia?" he teased, his tone low and playful.

"I... I wasn't looking," I squeaked out, clutching my bag tighter against my chest.

Lorenzo took a slow step closer, closing the distance between us until I could smell his cologne,something sweet like vanilla mixed with warm wood. He reached out and gently plucked the bag from my hands, setting it on a side table near the door.

"You always were a terrible liar," he whispered, stepping closer until his chest was inches from mine. "Even when you were little, hiding behind your father's coat while you stared at us."

My breath hitched. "You... you knew?"

"Of course we knew," Lorenzo murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he raised his hand. His long, warm fingers lightly brushed a stray lock of hair away from my face, his knuckles grazing the sensitive skin of my cheek. "We saw the way your cheeks turned red every time we walked into the room."

My skin flushed a deep crimson. I bit my lower lip, unable to look away from his dark, teasing eyes.

"Lorenzo," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"Yes, sweet girl?"

Before I could answer, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Zade rounded the corner, his broad frame filling the space easily. He had rolled his sleeves up, revealing thick, muscular forearms covered in dark ink. He held a silver tray with a plate of warm food and a glass of water.

"Rafael said to bring her something to eat," Zade growled, his black eyes flicking from Lorenzo's hand on my cheek down to my trembling lips.

Lorenzo didn't look bothered. He slowly pulled his hand back, giving me one last teasing wink before stepping aside. "Just in time, brother. Our little guest was just about to tell me a secret."

Zade ignored him, walking straight up to me. The air in the hallway instantly felt hotter, tighter. He set the tray down on the table next to my bag, then turned his dark, intense gaze back to me.

"Eat," Zade said, his voice raspy and direct. "You look like a strong breeze could knock you over."

"Thank you, Zade," I said softly, looking up at him with genuine gratitude.

Zade stared down at me for a long moment, his dark eyes softening just a tiny bit as he took in my small, soft posture. He reached out, his thick, calloused thumb gently wiping a spot of dust off my cheek. The contrast between his rough, tattooed hand and my soft skin made a sudden, hot shiver run all the way down to my thighs.

He noticed the way I gasped, his thumb lingering over my jawline for a second longer than necessary.

"Get some rest, Amelia," Zade grunted, stepping back before his touch could linger any longer. "We'll talk in the morning."

"Goodnight, tesoro," Lorenzo added smoothly, offering a charming smile.

"Goodnight," I whispered.

I stepped into my room, slipping inside and closing the door softly behind me. I leaned my back against the smooth wood, letting out a long, shaky breath as my hand rested over my beating heart.

I was finally here. In their house. Wrapped in their world.

I walked over to the large bed, sitting on the edge of the soft mattress. I picked up the glass of water Zade had brought, my mind racing with thoughts of Rafael's cold, intense grey eyes, Zade's rough, warm touch, and Lorenzo's wicked smirk.

They were dangerous men, but standing close to them made my blood run fast and warm. And as I laid my head down on the pillow that night, I knew one thing for sure I didn't want to be anywhere else.

I woke up to the soft sound of rain tapping against the tall bedroom windows.

For a second, I forgot where I was. I lay still under the heavy silk duvet, my mind foggy with sleep, until I took a slow breath in. The air didn't smell like my quiet, small room back home. It smelled rich a subtle mix of dark cedar, polished wood, and expensive leather cologne hanging in the quiet space.

My eyes fluttered open. High ceilings, dark crown molding, and massive mahogany furniture surrounded me.

My heart did a quick, frantic flutter against my ribs. I was inside the Moretti compound.

I sat up slowly, the soft silk sheet sliding down my chest. I looked down at my simple cotton nightgown the straps thin, the fabric soft, hugging my body in all the wrong places. I tossed the duvet aside and stepped onto the cold hardwood floor, my bare feet carrying me over to the full-length mirror near the wardrobe.

I looked at my reflection. My hair was a messy tumble over my shoulders, my cheeks flushed dark pink from sleep, and my lips swollen. I looked soft. So terribly young and untouched in the middle of this dark, masculine fortress.

A sharp, firm knock echoed through the quiet room.

I flinched, my hands instantly smoothing down the front of my nightgown. "C-come in," I called out, my voice trembling slightly.

The handle turned, and the door swung open.

Rafael walked inside.

My breath caught straight in my throat, and my toes curled into the rug.

He was dressed in a tailored charcoal suit that fit his broad, powerful frame effortlessly. His dark hair was combed back neatly, a few silver strands catching the morning light near his temples. His jaw was freshly shaved, dark and sharp, and his steel-grey eyes held a heavy, commanding weight that instantly made the room feel small.

He didn't step all the way inside. He stood right at the threshold, one hand resting inside his suit pocket while the other held a black leather document folder. He held himself with a quiet, lethal authority a man who ran an entire empire, who made grown men bleed with a single word.

Seeing him standing in my bedroom, his mature, towering presence filling my doorway, made a sudden, searing wave of heat shoot straight down between my thighs.

He didn't look at me like a boy would. He looked at me with the cold, calculating eyes of a full-grown man trying hard to keep his control locked down tight.

"Good morning, Amelia," he said. His voice was a deep, gravelly rumble that vibrated right through the floorboards.

"Good morning, Rafael," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.

His sharp grey eyes flicked down to my bare feet, tracing the pale skin of my ankles, slowly tracking up the thin cotton of my nightgown, taking in the faint outline of my waist and the way my chest was heaving under his gaze.

I saw the exact second his cold composure cracked. A muscle flexed tight in his jaw. His dark pupils dilated, his steel gaze locking onto the swell of my breasts peaking through the thin fabric.

My skin flushed a deep crimson. My nipples hardened right under his gaze, the tip of my tongue coming out to nervously wet my lower lip.

Rafael swallowed, a heavy, dark tension filling the air between us so thick I could taste it. He looked away for a second, adjusting his silk tie with long, thick fingers hands that were calloused, broad, and meant for holding a gun or holding a woman down. An image of him pinning me down with those hands of his flashed through my mind.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, his voice noticeably rougher than before.

"I... I did," I stammered, taking a tiny, timid step toward him. "Thank you for giving me this room. And thank you for taking care of me. My father always said you were the most reliable man he ever knew."

"Your father was a loyal partner," Rafael said smoothly, though his eyes stayed glued to my face as I stepped closer. "Which is why I am taking full responsibility for you now."

He walked over to the small table near the window and set the folder down with a soft click. Every movement he made was slow, deliberate and full of raw masculine power. As he turned back to face me, the rich scent of his cologne swept over me, thick and intoxicating.

"There are strict rules in this house, Amelia," he said, his tone low and commanding as he took a step toward me.

I stayed frozen in place, my hands clutching tightly at the sides of my dress. "What... what rules?"

"You do not step foot outside this compound without one of us," Rafael said, closing the distance between us until he was standing right over me. "You do not answer the main doors. You do not speak to my men in the lower levels. And you do not wander the halls at night."

He was so tall I had to tilt my head all the way back to look at his sharp face. The heat radiating off his broad chest hit me in waves, making my breath hitch in my throat.

"I'll be good, Rafael," I whispered softly, my eyes wide and innocent as I looked up into his dark face. "I promise."

Rafael froze.

His hand, resting by his side, twitched. His dark eyes dropped straight to my lips, watching them tremble as I spoke. The air in the room turned scalding hot.

"Don't say that," he growled softly, his voice dropping into a dark, gravelly register that sent a shiver straight down my spine.

"Don't say what?" I whimpered.

Rafael reached out. His hand wrapped around the back of my neck, his long fingers burying into my hair while his thumb pressed firmly against my racing pulse point. He didn't pull me violently, but his grip was heavy and full of dominant possession.

My breath hitched aloud, a tiny gasp escaping my lips as his warm, calloused palm held me still.

"Don't look at me like that, Amelia," he murmured, leaning down until his lips were inches from mine. I could feel the hot air of his breath on my mouth. "Don't tell me you'll be good when you're standing in front of me wearing almost nothing, looking at me like you want me to destroy you."

"Rafael..." I moaned softly, my hips giving a helpless, tiny twitch forward. The bottom of my dress brushed against his tailored trousers, and my core slicked with instant, shocking heat.god I'm wet already, I could feel myself dripping and I know he did too.

Rafael let out a low, rough sound in the back of his throat. His thumb dragged up from my neck, pressing firmly against my swollen lower lip, tugging it down just enough to expose my small white teeth.

"You have no idea what kind of man I am, sweet girl," he whispered, his eyes burning with pure, possessive hunger. "I am not a good man. I don't play nice. And if you keep looking at me like that, I am going to forget that your father left you under my protection."

I couldn't speak. My heart was pounding so violently against my ribs I thought it would burst. My body was burning, my thighs squeezing together to hide the wet warmth blooming between them.

For a second, I thought he was going to bend down and take my mouth right then and there.

Instead, Rafael forced his control back. A jaw-clenching breath escaped him, and he slowly, reluctantly released his grip on my neck. His hand slid down my shoulder, his thumb giving one last rough drag over my collarbone before he stepped back.

He straightened his suit jacket, his cold, unreadable mask sliding right back over his handsome, stone-carved face. But his chest was heaving, his dark eyes still dark with unsated desire.

"Dress yourself," Rafael ordered coldly, his tone firm once more as he turned toward the door. "Breakfast is downstairs in ten minutes. Zade and Lorenzo are waiting."

He stepped out into the hallway, leaving the bedroom door slightly open behind him.

I stood near the window, my hand flying up to touch the skin on my neck where his broad fingers had gripped me. My pulse was still racing, my skin burning, and my inner thighs wet with desire.

He was older, lethal, and strictly off-limits and standing in this room with him just proved that my sweet childhood crush was about to turn into a complete, dark obsession if it hasn't already.