Page 103 of Ruined By Capture

I hear the front door open, followed by Alessio's familiar footsteps on the hardwood.

"Piccola?" his voice calls out, and despite everything, my heart still jumps at the sound.

"In here," I answer, pushing the flattened box aside as Alessio appears in the doorway. His dark eyes sweep over me, his expression tender in that way that still makes my pulse quicken.

He crosses the room in three long strides, his hand coming to rest at the nape of my neck as he presses his lips to my forehead. "The place looks good," he murmurs against my skin.

"It's finally starting to feel like home," I say, leaning into his touch.

Alessio pulls back slightly, his thumb tracing along my jaw. "Lucrezia's stopping by later. She wants to see the new place."

I nod, a small smile forming. "I'll make some coffee. She liked the blend we had last time."

A week after my father's death the Feretti women returned from their extended ‘vacation’ in Italy. The end of that protective measure has transformed into something I never expected—a circle of friendship that feels perilously close to real family.

"Saturday dinner is still on," Alessio adds, his hand sliding down to rest at the small of my back. "Damiano insists."

The weekly Feretti family dinners have become a fixture in my new life. Last Saturday I sat between Alessio and Zoe, watching in amazement as Damiano's normally stern face filled with tender adoration while Sofia was in his lap. Lucrezia argued passionately with Enzo about her new women's shelter project, while Sienna quietly observed everything with knowing eyes.

"Evelyn asked if she could bring her violin," I tell him. "I said yes. I hope that's okay."

Alessio nods. "Noah mentioned she's been practicing again. That's good."

I twist my mother's ring, thinking about how Evelyn confided in me last week, her voice tentative as she admitted she hadn't touched her violin since Ivan. Something in her story resonatedwith me—another woman whose choices had been stripped away, who was finding her way back.

"They've been so welcoming," I say softly. "All of them."

Alessio's expression turns serious. "You're with me. That makes you family to them."

I still marvel at how easily I've been folded into their circle—how Lucrezia links her arm through mine when we walk, how Sienna quietly passes me extra dessert without comment, how Zoe insisted on helping me choose furniture for this apartment. They've created a space for me without question or hesitation.

Alessio's eyes darken as he notices me watching him, and I can't help the playful smile that forms on my lips.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, in that rough timbre that makes every nerve jump to life.

"Just admiring the view." My gaze deliberately slides from his face to the wall of windows showcasing Manhattan's skyline, then back to him. "Both views, actually."

His jaw flexes, thumb running along his sensual bottom lip in that way that always makes my breath catch. "Careful,piccola."

I step closer, emboldened by the possessive gleam in his eyes. "Or what?" I trail my fingers down his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath his shirt. "Are you going to do something about it?"

In one fluid motion Alessio grips my wrist and spins me around to face the windows. His chest presses against my back, his breath hot on my ear.

"You know what I think?" His hand slides around my stomach, pulling me tight against him. "I think it's time you get fucked in front of this view."

My pulse thunders as he guides me toward the floor-to-ceiling glass. The city sprawls fifteen stories below us—buildings gleaming in the late afternoon sun, tiny figures moving along the streets.

The thought of being so exposed sends a thrill spiraling through me. I press my palms against the smooth surface, every cell vibrating in anticipation.

"Is that what you want?" he asks, his hand already sliding beneath my skirt, finding the evidence of my answer. "To be spread out against this glass while I take you?"

"Yes," I whisper, my breath fogging the window as his fingers trace the edge of my underwear.

His other hand comes up to grip my jaw, fixing my head so I'm forced to look at our reflection—my flushed cheeks, his dangerous eyes, the city laid out behind us like a kingdom.

"Then that's exactly what you'll get."

"Look at all the people down there," I command, husking rough against her ear. "And not one of them knows that a beautiful woman is about to be spread naked against this glass and fucked within an inch of her life."

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