Chapter 117
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But the second we wolbeat through the docs, the sh chenged.
I felt it thick, heavy, Hurring against my stin
Chiare must have felt it too, because she squeered my hand once, then let gis, giving me a look.
Like she knew.
Like she was giving me space,
She disappeared down the hallway, leaving me alone..
Except I wasn’t.
They were there.
Matteo. Dante. Enzo.
Waiting.
They were lounging around the living room like kings in their castle – relaxed, powerful, terrifyingly beautiful.
Matteo sat on the couch, one arm slung over the back. Dante leaned against the wall, arms crossed, head tilted.
Enzo stood closest to me, his dark eyes locked onto mine like a magnet he couldn’t resist.
No one spoke for a moment.
The air stretched tight between us, thick as honey.
1 shifted, suddenly aware of how my jeans clung to my legs, how my sweater hung off one shoulder.
I should have felt uncomfortable.
I didn’t.
I felt… alive.
Too alive.
Like every inch of me was waking up just because they were looking at me.
Enzo was the first to move.
Slow Controlled.
He closed the distance between us with a few strides, stopping just close enough that I could feel the heat of him.
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Chapter 117
His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair off my face.
Slow. Gentle.
It felt like a caress.
“You went out,” he said, voice low. Rough.
I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry.
“With Chiara?” Dante asked from his spot against the wall.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Matteo’s mouth curled into a small smile.
“That’s good,” he said. “You should get used to being part of this family.”
Part of this family.
The words hit harder than I expected.
Enzo’s fingers trailed down my cheek, slow and careful.
I shivered.
“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice almost a growl.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but then Dante was there too, stepping behind me.
Close enough that I could feel the brush of his chest against my back.
Warm. Solid.
Matteo stood too, crossing the room until he was in front of me, beside Enzo.
Surrounding me.
Trapping me.
Making it impossible to think.
“You don’t know what you do to us,” Matteo said, his voice softer now. Deeper.
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding so loud I was sure they could hear it.
Dante’s hand brushed my hip, light as air, just the edge of his fingers.
My skin burned under the touch.
“You think you can run, Enzo said, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw.
‘But you’re already ours.”
I felt it
–
the truth of it, sinking into my bones.
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Chapter 117
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