Page 6 of Charming Villain

Maybe she’s got family issues, maybe she’s running from a future she can’t face. I know that feeling all too well. Marriage to a Lucatello—God, the idea still makes me want to punch something. But tonight, I’m trying to bury it, not resurrect it. There are already enough ghosts haunting this dim corner of the bar without inviting more to the party.

My attention snags on a droplet of condensation that slides down the side of her glass and drips onto her thigh. She shivers almost imperceptibly as if the sensation distracts her from her own thoughts. I’ve never envied a water droplet before, but damn if it isn’t a tempting sight.

She shifts closer, drawn by the tension sparking between us. “Luca,” she says, voice pitched low. “Do you ever feel like you just can’t breathe?”

I force out a wry chuckle, though her words hit too close to home. “Constantly.”

Her eyes search mine. “And what do you do when that happens?”

“Drink,” I say bluntly, raising my glass, “fight, find someone to lose myself in.” My gaze flicks to her mouth. I don’t hide the hunger I feel. Why bother? I came here to drown, and she looks like the perfect riptide.

Allegra exhales shakily, her lips parting. For a moment, she seems on the verge of saying something, but instead, she slides a hand over mine. Our fingers intertwine with surprising ease, the contact sending a fresh surge of heat through me. We sit like that, the edges of our bodies aligned, her soft palm against my rough knuckles.

The pounding bass fades into a dull roar. Everything else around us falls away—no more sticky floor, no more rowdy patrons, no more cheap perfume lingering in the air. Just me and her, locked in a moment of shared desperation. Her eyes shine with a mixture of fear and resolve, and I realize we’re both at the same crossroads, ready to leap off a cliff for one night of freedom.

I lean in, my breath ghosting over her ear. “You want to get out of here?” I ask, voice rough with a need I can’t quite hide.

She tenses for a split second, and I hold my breath. If she says no, I might break. Then she exhales, her lips curving in a slow, uncertain smile. “Where?” She whispers.

I’m not used to hesitating. Normally, I’d have suggested a hotel room or her apartment with no questions asked. But something in me wants to offer her a choice, a semblance of control, maybe because I have none in my own life. “We can just walk,” I say, my voice softer than usual. “We can find somewhere quieter; figure it out as we go.”

Her eyes flick to the door, then back to me, then she nods. “Yes. Let’s… let’s go. I just…” She trails off, but I understand. She wants to breathe, just like me.

We down the last of our drinks, and I toss some cash onto the bar—a careless tip. I don’t plan on coming back for my change.

We stand, and I slide my jacket off the back of my stool. She hesitates, looking slightly off balance in her heels, half from the alcohol, half from the tension thrumming between us. I place a hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd. When she glances up at me, the swirl of chaos in her eyes matches mine. We’re both one misstep away from unraveling. Maybe that’s what draws us together like magnets.

The moment we step outside, the brisk night air hits us, carrying the scent of rain and wet pavement. The drizzle has turned into a heavier shower, droplets tapping against the street like a thousand tiny dancers. I steal a quick glance at her. Her hair is damp at the ends, clinging to her cheeks, but she looks even more striking like this—raw and honest in her unguarded state.

Without a word, I slip my jacket off and drape it over her shoulders. She exhales a faint laugh, hugging it closer. “Won’t you be cold?” She asks, worry and gratitude in her eyes.

I shake my head. “Not tonight.” The unspoken meaning: not with you.

We linger under the awning, neither of us quite ready to brave the rain, both of us charged with a heady mix of adrenaline and something deeper and darker. Her gaze meets mine, and for a split second, I see pure longing mirrored there—longing for relief, for warmth, for an escape from whatever shackles her.

It’d be so easy to crush my mouth to hers right here, to chase that heat until we forget the world. But I restrain myself, offering my hand instead. When she takes it, a tiny spark of static crackles between our palms. We both laugh, breathless, as though the universe is mocking or blessing us.

“Allegra,” I murmur, testing the fake name on my tongue again, knowing it’s just that—a lie. But maybe tonight, illusions are all we have. “Let’s get out of this rain.”

She nods, swallowing hard. “Yes.” Her voice trembles, a mixture of fear and excitement that sends a charge through my veins. “Please.”

I guide her away from the bright lights of Finn’s, leading her down the sidewalk. Headlights slice through the darkness as cars pass. A fresh surge of thunder echoes somewhere above, but I barely notice. All I’m aware of is the warmth of her hand in mine, the pulse I feel thrumming against my fingertips.

We walk in near silence for a block or two at most until the glow of a small, off-brand hotel catches my eye. Its sign flickers, but it offers exactly the kind of anonymity I’m craving. I hesitate under the weak beam of a streetlamp, the rain intensifying around us. Allegra notices me pause and meets my gaze, her eyes filled with something fragile and bright. I tighten my grip on her hand, silently asking if this is still what she wants. And for one brief, fleeting moment, I ask myself if I’m saving her from something, or is she saving me?

Then her breath trembles and she nods, so I lead her across the slick pavement and through the lobby doors. The place smells like stale coffee and old carpet, but I don’t care. It’s private, forgotten by the city around us. We slip inside and let the door swing shut behind us with a soft, hollow thud, sealing out the storm.

Chapter4

Gianna

Ifollow Luca through the front doors, my heartbeat hammering in my ears. The smell of old carpet and stale coffee hits me right away, mingling with the faint musk of cheap air freshener. If I weren’t on such an adrenaline high, I might notice how drab the hotel lobby is—uninspired potted plants in the corners, fluorescent lights that buzz faintly overhead, a bored-looking clerk slouching behind the check-in desk. But all of it is just a blurry backdrop to the rapid pulse of blood in my veins.

He—Luca—barely slows his stride as he crosses the lobby. I trail behind, clutching the lapels of his jacket tighter around me. My own dress is still damp from the rain outside, and I’m hyperaware of how it clings to my thighs, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the heat coursing under my skin.

The clerk shuffles upright when we approach. Luca mumbles something about a room for the night or maybe just a few hours. I’m not entirely sure—I’m too busy watching the tension in his shoulders, the way one strong hand grips the edge of the counter as he pays. He doesn’t spare me a glance, but there’s a subtle coil of energy in his posture that reminds me we’re both here for the same reason: to escape and forget.

A minute later, he has the key card in hand. He half-turns toward me, and the flicker of heat I see in his gaze twists my stomach into excited knots. Wordlessly, I fall into step beside him. We push through a narrow hallway lined with battered vending machines humming under harsh lighting, then round a corner to where an elevator waits with scratched gold paneling on the doors.

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