Dinner was unusually quiet. Normally, Antonio would engage Rose in conversation about various topics, but tonight, he chose to let the silence speak. It felt necessary as if the unspoken tension between them needed time to settle. Rose, too, seemed reluctant to speak, her thoughts weighed down by emotions she couldn’t yet put into words.
The mafia boss dubbed his mouth with a napkin, his sharp gaze never leaving Rose. She had been unusually quiet since they sat down to eat, and now, as she finished her meal, she abruptly stood up and walked away from the table without a word.
Antonio watched, momentarily stunned, before rising quickly to follow her. She had barely made it halfway to her room when he grabbed her wrist, pulling her close to him in a swift motion. Her back pressed against his chest, and her startled expression turned into a glare as she pushed against him in protest.
“You—!”
“You’ve been avoiding me, staying silent, refusing to meet my eyes,” Antonio said firmly, his voice carrying an edge of vulnerability. “Tell me what’s going on, cara mia.”
“There’s nothing,”
she replied, her tone clipped and dismissive.
“You’re lying again.” His smile at the corner of his lips was almost playful, but the intensity in his eyes said otherwise. “I think we’re going to have a long conversation tonight.”
The mischievous undertone in his voice left little room for misinterpretation.
Rose’s face flushed as she pushed harder against his chest. “Let me go!”
But his grip on her remained firm. “Can I sleep in your room tonight?”
“No!” she exclaimed, her voice rising.
“Tomorrow night, then? I’ll be sure to come home early,” he teased, his grin widening.
“Not tomorrow either!” She shot back, her voice tinged with embarrassment and frustration.
“What about the night after?” His playful tone was infuriating, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Never!” she blurted out, her cheeks burning red.
Antonio feigned a disappointed sigh but finally released her. “All right, you win,” he said, his grin softening into something gentler.
“You should rest now. I’ll see you in the morning,” he added.
“Goodnight,” Rose muttered, hurrying into her room and shutting the door firmly behind her. She quickly locked it, leaning against the door and exhaling deeply.
Antonio chuckled softly outside her door, his hand resting briefly on the doorknob. He shook his head with amusement before walking away, his mood buoyant. Tonight, he thought he would sleep better than he had in weeks.
 
At the upscale nightclub, Acia swirled the wine in her glass, her expression a mix of frustration and bitterness. The upbeat music and luxurious surroundings did little to soothe her frayed nerves. Between her simmering jealousy toward Rose and Vega’s unexpected return, it felt like every plan she had was unraveling.
She wanted Antonio—wanted him with a passion that burned brighter than her pride. But how could she make him hers with both women standing in her way?
Her fingers tightened around the glass. “Dammit!” she hissed under her breath.
“You know, you really shouldn’t have turned me down,” a familiar voice drawled behind her.
She spun, her icy glare meeting Lorenzo’s smug grin.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“Call it a coincidence,” he replied, leaning against the bar casually. “But since we’re here, why don’t we finish our earlier conversation?”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Acia snapped, rising from her seat. But Lorenzo’s taunting chuckle stopped her mid-step.
“I didn’t think you’d scare so easily,” he said, his tone mocking.
Acia turned, her eyes blazing with indignation. “I’m not scared, but I don’t need to work with someone like you.”
“Is that so?” Lorenzo smirked, his calm demeanor unnerving. “I find it amusing that you’re willing to let some random women take the spotlight in the biggest event of the year.”
“That’s his decision, not mine,” she shot back, her voice tinged with resentment.
“Then let’s make him regret it,” Lorenzo said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Work with me, and I’ll make sure you’re the one walking the runway instead of her.”
Acia hesitated. The temptation was undeniable. She wanted to be the star of the show, to have Antonio finally notice her. But could she trust Lorenzo?
“What’s your plan?” she asked cautiously.
“Why don’t we sit down and talk about it?” Lorenzo suggested smoothly, gesturing toward a secluded corner.
Reluctantly, Acia followed him, curiosity battling with mistrust.
 
The next morning
Antonio left the mansion early, heading straight to the venue for the upcoming auction. The event was less than a week away, and he wanted every detail to be flawless. The venue exuded opulence, with chandeliers glittering above and displays of rare, exquisitely cut diamonds being arranged for the auction.
Antonio oversaw the preparations meticulously, leaving nothing to change.
“Everything’s in order, boss,” Char reported, walking up to him.
Antonio nodded but didn’t relax. “And security? Have we tripled-checked every detail?”
“Yes, sir. No abnormalities so far,” Char confirmed.
Antonio exhaled slightly, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. This event needed to be perfect—not just for his business but for Rose’s safety. Any threat to her would be a threat to him, and he wouldn’t let that happen.