ISABELLA
The morning light spilled across the room like a soft confession, stretching over linen sheets and tangled limbs. My eyes fluttered open slowly, the quiet sound of breathing the only thing anchoring me to reality.
Lorenzo.
His body lay beside mine, bare chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. One arm curled loosely beneath his head, the other resting on the sheet as if even in sleep he claimed the space around him.
His lashes were long, too long for someone so dangerous and a slight crease sat between his brows, like the remnants of a dream he hadn't yet shaken off.
I studied him in silence, chest tightening with something I didn't want to name.
And then his lips curved. A slow, knowing smile pulled at his face, and without opening his eyes, he murmured, "Are you already so into me, Mia, that you can't even breathe without staring?"
I jolted slightly, heat rushing to my cheeks. "I wasn't staring," I muttered, shifting back, flustered.
