Page 16 of Mafia Don's Secret Heir
VALENTINA
The dress falls to my feet like a puddle of snow, until I am wearing nothing but a set of lace bra and panties. Luca relinquishes his hold on me and turns, giving me time to soak in my surroundings.
The room drips with opulence, but it’s more than that, it’s a stage. Floor-to-ceiling windows reveal the glittering city below, its golden lights twinkling against the darkness like stars scattered across velvet. A soft breeze wafts in through the slightly open glass, rustling the sheer curtains and bringing with it the faint hum of life outside. The rest of the room is all rich, dark wood and sleek furniture, every detail designed to command attention and awe.
But none of it compares to him.
Luca now leans against the edge of the table, a single glass of deep red wine in his hand. The bottle sits beside him, its label elegant and understated, the kind of vintage that speaks of wealth so ingrained it doesn’t need to boast. His suit jacket is gone, leaving him in just his crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal powerful forearms.
He doesn’t speak at first. He simply watches me, his green eyes sharp, assessing. He doesn’t need words to fill the space; his presence does that on its own.
“Come here,” he says finally, his voice low and commanding, a dark melody that coils around me and pulls me forward before I even realize I’ve moved.
I step closer, the soft click of my heels swallowed by the plush carpet. My throat is dry, my heart pounding against my ribs. There’s something about the way he holds himself, the quiet dominance in his every move, that leaves me breathless and unsure whether I want to run or lean in closer.
Luca holds up the glass of wine, turning it slightly so the light catches the liquid, making it glow like molten rubies.
“This,” he says, his tone smooth and deliberate, “is from a vineyard I own. One of my best. A wine like this… it demands patience. Respect.”
His gaze flickers to mine, and I know he’s not just talking about the wine.
“Do you know how to taste it?” he asks, his voice softening but losing none of its weight.
I shake my head, unable to trust my brain to form coherent words.
He smirks, a slow, teasing curve of his lips that sends heat rushing to my cheeks. “Let me teach you.”
Luca moves towards me, the glass still in his hand. He raises it to his lips and takes a slow sip, his throat working as he swallows. My throat is incredibly dry.
He steps even closer.
And then, without warning, he cups my chin with his free hand, tilting my face up to meet his.
“Open your mouth,” he murmurs.
I do as he says, my breath hitching as he leans in. His lips brush against mine, soft at first, testing. Then he deepens thekiss, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and I taste the wine immediately, rich and bold, with notes of dark fruit and spice. It’s intoxicating, and not just because of the flavor.
His hand tightens slightly on my chin, holding me in place as he takes his time, exploring, savoring. He leaves no doubt about who’s in control.
When he pulls back, I’m left breathless, my lips tingling, my pulse racing.
“Now you’ve tasted it,” he says, and the mere rumble of his voice warms me from within. I’m light-headed, and it has nothing to do with the wine.
I blink up at him, struggling to find words. “It’s… bold,” I manage, my voice a whisper.
Luca chuckles throatily. “Good. You’ll need to be bold tonight.”
He steps back, but not far, his presence still looming over me as he sets the glass on the table.
“Do you want another taste?” he asks, his tone teasing but undercut with something darker, more dangerous.
I can’t tell if he means the wine or him.
I glance at the table, then back at him. The candlelight catches on the sharp angles of his face, casting shadows that only make him look more powerful, more untouchable. And yet, he’s right here, close enough to touch, close enough to leave me reeling.
“I…” The word falters on my tongue as he steps closer again, his hand brushing against my waist.
“Say yes,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over my ear.
