Page 38 of Dario DeLuca

"More than you know," I reply, my response a shield for the truth that Mia is the axis upon which my world turns, the force that drives me to be a man worthy of her fire and grace.

"Will she be joining you on the trail?"

"Her work with the community center is vital," I deflect.

A breeze whispers through the concrete canyons of the city, carrying with it the scent of lake water and the distant aromas from street vendors.

As the day wears on, I pose for photos, my smile plastered, my posture poised. Yet within the cage of my ribs, my heart claws against the confines, yearning for the moment when I can shed the politician's skin and be simply Dario—Dario, whose only electorate is the woman who sees through the smoke and mirrors to the raw desire burning beneath.

"One last picture?"

I turn, affixing another perfect smile as the camera captures the image of a leader, a lover, and a protector. There, in the silent click, is the promise of a tomorrow where Mia and I stand unshaken, where the city that birthed us both becomes the canvas upon which we paint our legacy—a fusion of strength and vulnerability, power and passion.

"Thank you, everyone," I say as the event draws to a close. Their applause is a roaring tide that recedes as I slip into the waiting SUV. The door shuts, sealing me in the quietude of leather and steel.

"Home," I murmur to Rafael, and as we pull away, I feel her with me—a ghostly passenger, a whispered vow, an oath sworn in the shadows of power.

SIXTEEN

MIA

My hips swaywith purpose as I walk past Dario's office, the fabric of my two-piece bikini clinging to every curve. I feel his intense gaze, a tangible caress against my melanated skin.

We play this game of power and desire, but today, I am changing the rules. He will beg for my attention, not the other way around.

Let him try to resist this temptation.

The weight of his stare only adds fuel to my confidence as I strut by, exuding an air of seduction that cannot be ignored. The sun beams on me, and its golden rays dance across my skin.

As I bask in its embrace, I feel a sense of contentment wash over me. The sunscreen in my hand feels cool and refreshing against my heated skin, relieving the blazing heat. Slowly and deliberately, I spread it over every inch of my body, taking note of every curve and dip that might catch someone's eye.

And indeed, he is watching me from the shadows—hispresence felt rather than seen. But now, I am fully present and at peace with my surroundings, focused only on the sensation of warmth and the faint scent of coconut and shea swirling around me.

Satisfied with my coverage of protection, I ease into the pool using the steps, allowing my body to become acclimated to the coolness of the water. I dip under, lingering for a few seconds before coming up for air. I take a few laps in the infinity pool, relaxing my mind and allowing myself to enjoy this moment of serenity, and I end up back at the stairs.

Emergence from the cool embrace of the pool feels like a rebirth. I rise, droplets cascading down my body. I adjust my swimsuit, fully aware that every move I make is under scrutiny. No matter how hard I try to avoid him, I feel him in the distance, watching and tracking me wherever I am. What’s worse is I can sense the desire etched in every line of his brooding figure.

I claim one of the poolside loungers and spread a towel over it before putting on my sunglasses and lying down to enjoy the sun. The peace calls to me, and for a moment, I forget I’m in the world of Dario DeLuca. I don’t feel his intense gaze roaming over me, and I don’t have to think about the brokered deal or the situation that landed me here.

“Ms. Gordon, you have a visitor,” the staff member announces, bringing me from my trance.

I look toward the sliding doors leading to the pool area and see my bestie. Rafael's methodical pat-down of Gabby, standard yet intimate, stirs something unexpected. Their exchange is underlined by a tension that's hard to ignore. Trust is a currency here, silently exchanged between cautious glances and subtle gestures.

“Gabby,” I shout, walking over to greet her. Our embrace is like two friends finding each other after a long hiatus, even though it’s only been a few days. I guide us back to the lounger, and a staffer brings two glasses of wine.

“What are you doing here?” I’m curious why she’s present when I’ve been told I would have no contact with anyone outside these walls.

“Well, Dario called me and asked if I’d want to come and spend some time with you. Better yet, he saidRafael is outside. You have ten minutes to meet him.Is he always so demanding?” She takes a sip of her libation and leans back, relaxing.

“Yes. He doesn’t negotiate, nor does he take no for an answer. You should see how the staff moves around here.”

“‘Staff’? Oh, you’re settling into your new life as a soon-to-be DeLuca. Do they bring you breakfast in bed?” Gabby laughs.

“I’m not settling in. I’m not sure what I’m doing, to be honest. He’s…” My words trail off. Thoughts of our hate-fuck scene flashing in my mind.

Gabby interjects, bringing me back to the moment. “He’s what, Mia?” She gasps. “Is he, you know. In the Mafia?” she whispers.

Memories of the night at the gas station come flooding back as they do daily, but I thought I was past the experience. I find a way to tell her without oversharing.

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