Page 36 of Tower of Temptations

The moment that first breeze touched her face, the way her eyes went wide at the sound of waves…fuck, I wanted to bottle that look, keep it somewhere safe where Vittorio and his world couldn't touch it. Where I couldn't ruin it.

She kicked off her shoes the second we hit the sand, laughing as she curled her toes into it. I found myself watching her instead of scanning the perimeter like I should've been, caught up in how she tilted her head back to take in the night sky.

"It's not much," I said, settling down on the sand and patting the spot next to me. "City lights wash most of it out, but it's better than security floods."

She sank down beside me, close enough that I could feel her warmth. "Are you kidding? This is..." she trailed off, eyes fixed upward, and the pure wonder in her voice made my chest ache. "God, I forgot what real air felt like."

The waves crashed steady and dark ahead of us, but I couldn't take my eyes off her profile, the way starlight caught in her hair. She hugged her knees to her chest, looking smaller somehow, more real than she ever had on the security feeds.

And that's when I knew I was truly fucked. Because this wasn't just about wanting her anymore. This was something much more dangerous.

18

PEARL

The moment my feet touched the sand, years of penthouse perfection shattered.

I couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up; I probably sounded half-crazy, but I didn't care.

The beach stretched endless and dark ahead of me, nothing like the sterile universe of my glass prison where I'd forgotten what real air felt like.

"You good there, princess?" Enzo's voice carried amusement but something softer too.

"I just..." I closed my eyes, drinking in the moment. "God, this is real. This is actually real."

I thought of all the small kindnesses since I'd arrived—how Vincenzo would find me reading late at night and quietly leave tea, or how Rocco somehow always showed up with a new book when I was feeling restless. Even Angelo, for all his intensity in training, had this way of knowing exactly when I needed a moment to just breathe. And now here was Enzo, sharing thispiece of freedom with me like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I kicked off my shoes, letting my feet sink deeper into the sand. Every sensation felt amplified: the wind catching my hair, the distant crash of waves, the vastness of sky above me that made me slightly dizzy. A seagull called somewhere in the darkness, and I nearly jumped; when was the last time I'd heard a real bird instead of recordings?

"You're allowed to enjoy it, you know." Enzo settled onto the sand, patting the spot beside him. In the darkness, his usual sharp edges looked softer somehow. "Nobody's keeping score out here."

I sank down next to him, close enough to feel his warmth but not quite touching. The night air had a bite to it, but I didn't care. I tilted my head back, drinking in the scattered stars visible through the city's glow. Even with the light pollution, they were so much clearer than through the tinted glass of my penthouse windows.

"When I was little," I found myself saying, "my dad used to set up this telescope in his office. The really old kind, brass and wood. He'd let me stay up late on clear nights, teaching me every constellation. The hunter, the bear, the queen in her chair..." I smiled at the memory. "Vittorio had it 'accidentally' broken during the move to his place. Said it was taking up too much space."

"Your father sounds like a good man."

"He was." I drew my knees to my chest. "Did you really learn constellations on your dad's bar roof?"

Enzo was quiet for a moment, and I worried I'd crossed some line. But then he leaned back on his hands, eyes on the sky. "Yeah. Mostly to keep me out of trouble while he worked. Figured if I was up there mapping stars, I wasn't down in the bar trying to sneak drinks or chat up customers."

"Did it work?"

His laugh was low and rich. "Hell, no. Just got better at climbing down without him noticing." He glanced at me, something shifting in his expression. "But you know what's funny? All these years running the club, dealing with Providence's finest trash, and I still find myself looking up some nights. Old habits."

"Is that all they are? Habits?"

He was quiet again, longer this time. When he spoke, his voice had lost its usual edge. "Maybe not. There's something about stars, you know? How they're constant but always changing. How you can use them to find your way home, even when everything else goes dark."

"Freedom," I said softly. "That's what they always meant to me. Up there, nothing can touch them. No walls, no rules, no expectations."

"No cages," he added, and something in his tone made me look at him. "Even a gilded one is still a cage."

"You sound like you know something about that."

He shifted, eyes still on the sky. "Different kind of prison, maybe. Running the club, being who everyone expects me to be. The ruthless owner, the playboy, the man who's got it all figured out." His laugh held no humor. "Sometimes I wonder if I built my own cage, brick by brick."

The vulnerability in his voice made my heart ache. I'd seen glimpses of this Enzo before, in how he actually looked at me when I spoke, not through me like Vittorio's men always did. But this felt different. Realer.

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