Fia woke up that morning with a dreamy smile on her face, her mind replaying every moment of the night before. Emiliano’s warmth, his laughter, the way he had looked at her like she was the only woman in the room—it all lingered like a sweet melody. She stretched luxuriously in her bed, feeling a rush of anticipation as she reached for her phone.
Surely, he would have texted by now.
But her screen remained stubbornly empty. No messages. No missed calls.
Brushing off the initial sting of disappointment, she told herself he was probably just busy. After all, he had mentioned needing to handle some “host duties” after the ball. She got out of bed, made herself a light breakfast, and checked her phone again. Still nothing.
By the time she was dressed and ready for work, anxiety was beginning to creep in. She had thought the night had gone well, magical even, but now doubts gnawed at the edges of her mind. Had she misread the signs? Maybe slapping his brother in the middle of the party wasn’t as forgivable as Emiliano had made it seem.
The day dragged painfully on. Between meetings and emails, Fia found herself compulsively checking her phone, her heart sinking a little lower each time there was no notification from him. She texted Mia, her best friend, spilling her worries and trying to hold back the tears that kept threatening to spill.
Mia: Relax, babe. He’s probably just swamped. You said he runs a massive business, right?
Fia: Yeah, but how hard is it to send one text?
Even her father noticed her quiet mood when she stopped by his office during lunch.
“You look like someone kicked your puppy,” he remarked, his voice gruff but concerned.
“I’m fine,” Fia lied, not meeting his eyes.
Her father studied her for a moment before offering a rare piece of advice. “Give it more time. Men like him, they’re busy. Doesn’t mean he’s not interested.”
Fia nodded, letting his words soothe her for a while. But as the hours wore on and the business day came to a close, her hope dwindled. By the time she was back home, the silence felt unbearable. She sat curled up on her couch, nursing a glass of wine as tears pricked her eyes.
Maybe I was wrong about him, she thought bitterly.
But then a flicker of resolve sparked within her. She wasn’t the type to sit around and wallow in self-pity. If Emiliano wasn’t going to call her, then she’d call him. Draining the rest of her glass for courage, she grabbed her phone and dialed his number before she could second-guess herself.
The phone barely rang once before his voice came through, warm and unmistakably excited.
“Fia,” he said, his tone wrapping around her like a blanket. “I’ve been waiting to hear from you all day.”
Fia froze, caught off guard. “Wait, you were waiting on me? You said you’d call or text!”
Emiliano laughed, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “You never gave me your number. I only had mine to give to you.”
Fia blinked, then groaned as realization dawned. “Oh.”
Her drunken honesty kicked in, and she blurted, “Well, you could’ve told me that sooner! I’ve been waiting all day, thinking maybe you hated me or something.”
“Hated you?” Emiliano sounded genuinely surprised. “Fia, last night was the best night I’ve had in years. Trust me, I could never hate you.”
Her cheeks flushed at his words, and before she could lose her nerve, she said, “Then why don’t you come over? I’ve got wine, and... well, it’s better than sitting here sulking.”
“I’d love to,” he said without hesitation. “I’ll bring food.”
Fia barely had time to scramble around her apartment, tidying up and trying to make herself look presentable, before there was a knock at her door. Her heart raced as she opened it to find Emiliano standing there, holding a takeout bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
“You weren’t kidding about the wine,” he teased, stepping inside.
“Had to do something to pass the time,” she replied, her nerves melting under his easy grin.
They settled on her couch, the aroma of the food mingling with the scent of the wine as they dug in. Conversation flowed easily, their laughter filling the space as they shared more personal stories.
Fia learned about Emiliano’s childhood—his love for the countryside, his secret obsession with classic literature, and even his hidden talent for sketching. In turn, she told him about her dreams of opening a community center, her favorite childhood memories, and the struggles of balancing her ambitions with family expectations.
“You’re full of surprises,” Emiliano said, his voice soft as he studied her.
“So are you,” she replied, her gaze meeting his.
The tension between them crackled, an unspoken pull drawing them closer. Emiliano’s hand brushed hers, and for a moment, the world outside her apartment ceased to exist.
But instead of leaning in, he smiled and said, “One more glass of wine?”
Fia nodded, her pulse racing. She wasn’t sure where the night would lead, but for the first time all day, she felt completely at ease. Emiliano was here, and for now, that was enough... but what if she wanted more?
Fia sipped her wine, letting the warmth of Emiliano’s presence and the alcohol work together to dull the edges of her earlier anxiety. As they talked, her gaze kept drifting to his lips, the way they curled into a sly smile whenever she said something he found amusing, or the way they pressed together thoughtfully when he listened.
She felt a heat build within her, a heady mix of desire and courage fueled by her wine-induced haze. Her thoughts grew less coherent, more primal. She wanted to know what those lips felt like on hers, how his strong hands would feel against her skin.
Emiliano, sitting close enough that she could feel the faint heat radiating off him, noticed her shifting mood. Her pupils were dilated, her breathing quickened, and her scent—something uniquely her—was intoxicating. It took every ounce of his self-control to focus on their conversation.
But Fia wasn’t interested in talking anymore.
She set her wine glass down with a soft clink, turning her full attention to him. Her heart thudded wildly as she leaned closer, her eyes fluttering shut.
The moment she got near, Emiliano inhaled sharply, a deep, resonating growl rumbling from his chest. The sound sent shivers down Fia’s spine, her body responding instinctively with a breathless moan.
Fueled by the sound, she climbed into his lap, her hands curling around his shoulders as she pressed herself against him. The contact drew another growl from Emiliano, lower and more primal. Fia gasped, her body grinding against his instinctively, and the friction made them both groan.
His hands gripped her hips, firm but hesitant, as though fighting an internal war. They roamed higher, then lower, his restraint visibly unraveling as she moved against him.
“Fia,” he rasped, his voice gravelly and thick with desire. “Are you sure about this? You’ve been drinking—”
Fia didn’t let him finish. Her hands cupped his face as she stared into his dark, smoldering eyes. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she whispered. Her voice cracked slightly, and she rushed to fill the silence. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I’ve never felt this way before. It’s like… like you’re all I can think about. I don’t even know if I’m making sense, but—”
“You make perfect sense to me,” Emiliano interrupted, his voice softer now but still laced with that dangerous edge. “Because I feel it too. This pull. This… need for you.”
Her heart fluttered at his words, but Emiliano’s tone grew more serious. “Fia, if this is what you want—if we’re going to make this real—I need to tell you more about myself. About what this connection means. About who I truly am.”
Fia, drunk on wine and desire, couldn’t bring herself to care about anything other than the man in front of her. She pressed her body closer, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “The only thing I want right now is you.”
Her words shattered what little restraint Emiliano had left. His beast surged forward, no longer willing to be ignored. A deep growl rumbled from his chest again as he claimed her lips in a fiery, passionate kiss.
Fia melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair as their kiss deepened. Emiliano’s hands roamed her back, her sides, her hips, every touch igniting a trail of fire that left her breathless.
His beast reveled in her nearness, her scent, her taste. She was everything he’d dreamed of and more, and now that she was here, in his arms, there was no turning back.
“Fia,” he murmured against her lips, his voice a husky whisper.
She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her own filled with equal parts desire and curiosity.
“If we keep going, there’s no stopping,” he warned, his tone almost a plea. “You’re not just a fling to me, Fia. You’re my everything. I need you to understand that.”
Fia’s lips curved into a small, teasing smile. “Then stop talking and show me.”
Emiliano growled low in his throat, his eyes darkening further as he pulled her into another searing kiss. His hands gripped her hips, pressing her body flush against his, and this time, neither of them held back.
The night had just begun, and for both of them, there was no turning back.