Elena's pulse hammered against her ribs.
Alessio's touch was everywhere.
His fingers on her chin. His thumb brushing her lip.
His body so close, too close.
And the worst part?
He was right.
She felt it. The tension. The heat.
The way her body reacted despite her hatred.
But she wasn't going to let him win.
Not now.
Not ever.
Elena acted on instinct.
She bit him.
Hard.
Alessio hissed, yanking his hand back.
She didn't waste a second.
Her palm slammed into his chest, shoving him back.
He didn't stumble—he was too strong for that—but he hadn't expected it.
And that was all she needed.
She spun on her heel and ran.
Not to the door—it was locked.
Not to the balcony—she knew better now.
The bathroom.
The only place she could barricade herself in.
Her bare feet slapped against the marble floor.
She could hear him moving behind her.
Too fast.
Her stomach twisted.
She lunged—
Fingers outstretched—
Almost there—
A strong arm wrapped around her waist.
Her breath ripped from her throat as she was yanked back.
Hard.
Her back slammed against Alessio's chest.
Trapped. Again.
Her heartbeat roared in her ears.
Her breath came in ragged pants.
Alessio's hold was unbreakable.
His arm was like a steel band around her waist.
Elena thrashed.
Kicked.
Tried to dig her nails into his skin.
Nothing.
Alessio's chest rose and fell against her back.
Steady. Controlled.
Like he hadn't even broken a sweat.
And that—that infuriated her more than anything.
His breath ghosted over her ear.
"Elena," he murmured.
She stiffened.
His grip tightened just enough to let her know—he was done playing.
She had pushed him too far.
Her stomach knotted.
"Let me go," she rasped.
A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest.
And then—he spun her around.
His silver eyes burned into hers.
A storm. A warning.
And yet, beneath the fury—something else.
Something she didn't understand.
Alessio's hand slid up her throat, tilting her chin up.
He leaned in.
Until his lips were a breath away.
Until she could feel the heat of him.
"You're making this very difficult, piccola."
Her chest heaved.
Her body shook with adrenaline, with rage.
She had fought.
And lost.
Again.
And the worst part?
He wasn't angry.
He was enjoying this.
Her throat constricted.
"You're a monster," she whispered.
Alessio smiled. Slow. Dangerous.
"Good," he murmured.
And then—he kissed her.