Chapter 183
Aria First Person POV
I woke up slowly.
The kind of slow that happens when you feel safe. When nothing hurts. When the world feels quiet and soft and still.
The room was dim and warm. The curtains were pulled just enough to let in a little golden light. The air smelled faintly like Enzo’s cologne, something deep and clean and warm, mixed with the scent of body lotion and steam from earlier.
I blinked a few times, then realized I was still lying on top of him.
My cheek was pressed against his bare chest. His skin was warm under my face. One of his arms was wrapped around my back, holding me close. My legs were tangled with his. A soft blanket was thrown over us, half slipping off to the side.
He was asleep now.
Completely still.
His breathing was even, his mouth slightly parted. His face was so peaceful. No smirks. No teasing. No sharp glances or sarcastic words. Just calm. Just Enzo.
I stared at him for a long moment, taking it all in. The way his lashes curled gently. The shape of his nose. The curve of his mouth. I raised my hand and slowly traced my fingers along the edge of his jaw. Then his cheek. Then up to his hairline. I didn’t want to wake him. I just wanted
to look at him. Touch him. Feel this moment.
I didn’t know when I started loving him.
But I knew that I did.
It sat heavy in my chest in the best way. A warm ache. Something sweet and sharp at the same time. I didn’t say it out loud. Not yet. But I felt it in my bones. I felt it in the way I looked at him. In the way I didn’t want to leave this bed. In the way I wanted to keep memorizing his face forever.
My stomach growled suddenly.
Loud enough that I actually winced.
I covered my face and tried not to laugh. Of course this would happen right in the middle of something perfect.
I carefully tried to move, hoping I could slip out of his grip without waking him. I wiggled a little, shifting my leg. But the moment I tried to sit up, his arm tightened around my waist.
I froze.
Then I heard his voice.
“Where are you going?”
I looked down and saw his eyes open, blinking slowly like he’d just woken up, but something in his expression told me otherwise.
“Wait,” I said, “you were awake?”
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His lips curved just a little. That familiar smirk started forming.
“For a while,” he said. “You were staring at me like I’m your favorite dessert.”
I rolled my eyes and slapped his chest lightly. “I was not.”
“You were.”
“I was admiring you. There’s a difference.”
“Mmm,” he said, still grinning. “Felt like admiring with extra steps.”
I shook my head, smiling even as I tried to pull away again. “Well, I’m hungry now, I need food.”
His fingers slowly traced the curve of my spine like he was memorizing every dip and rise, and I shivered, not because I was cold, but because the way he touched me made my whole body feel like it was glowing from the inside. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to leave the bed or the safety of his arms or the soft way he was looking at me now, with one brow slightly raised and that crooked smile forming at the corner of his mouth like he was about to say something sarcastic but sweet at the same time. I ran my fingertips gently over the slope of his shoulder and down the center of his chest, drawing lazy patterns just to feel him under my touch. He caught my hand halfway and brought it to his lips, kissing my fingers one by one, slow and deliberate, before resting it flat over his heart like he wanted me to feel the way it beat for me. I swallowed hard and leaned forward until our noses brushed. His breath was warm against my lips and his eyes were half–lidded, sleepy but focused, completely on me. When I whispered that he needed to let me go so I could get food, he sighed like I was torturing him, dragging his hand down my side before pulling me back in for one more kiss that was soft but lingering, like he was trying to convince me to stay just a little longer. And for a moment, I almost did, because everything about him in that moment made me forget the outside world completely. He made me feel like I belonged right there, tangled in his sheets, with his hands on me and his heart beating beneath my palm, and it scared me just how much I didn’t want to leave.
He groaned dramatically and buried his face in my neck. “Stay here. Just a little longer.”
“I would love to,” I said honestly. “But if I stay any longer, I might eat you.”
“That’s the idea.”
I giggled and tried to roll off him again. This time he let me.
But before I got too far, I leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose.
He blinked up at me and smiled. “That’s cute. Do it again.”
“Nope,” I said, standing up and wrapping the sheet around myself. “You only get one.”
“Tease.”
“Always.”
I padded out of the room quietly, still smiling to myself, feet light on the cool floor. I had no idea what I was going to cook, but I didn’t care. I just needed something to fill the emptiness in my stomach. Something fast, maybe eggs or toast. Or both. I’d even eat cereal if it came to that.
The house was quiet as I walked down the stairs. Too quiet, actually. I didn’t hear the usual soft hum of voices or music or movement. Just the faint sound of the breeze from an open window and my own footsteps on the polished floor.
I rounded the corner to the kitchen.
And then I froze.
Chiara was there.
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But she wasn’t alone.
There was a woman in a maid’s uniform standing with her.
And they were kissing.
Not a casual kiss. Not a peck. It was deep. Close. Hands in hair. Bodies pressed together. Their eyes were closed, like they didn’t even know anyone else existed.
I stood completely still in the doorway, wide–eyed, lips slightly parted, not sure if 1 should move or cough or just back away slowly. My breath caught in my throat.
I didn’t know what to do.
I didn’t even know if they saw me yet.
I just stood there, staring.
And that was how the moment ended.
Me, hungry and stunned, standing at the edge of something I definitely was not supposed to see.
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