Chapter 3: The First Kiss

Marco DeLuca had built his empire on control, power, and ruthlessness. He was used to manipulating every situation to his advantage, playing the game with calculated precision. But with Amelia Hart, none of the rules applied.

It wasn’t that she was difficult to deal with. No, it was her complete indifference to his usual methods that intrigued him. She wasn’t intimidated by his wealth, his status, or his underworld connections. And that was precisely what made Marco want her more than he had ever wanted anyone in his life.

For weeks, they met casually—lunches, dinners, and walks in the park—but there had been no mention of anything romantic. Amelia wasn’t the type to flirt, nor did she seem interested in playing games. She was refreshingly straightforward, always making him laugh or think in ways no one else ever had.

Tonight was different, though.

Marco had just finished a tense meeting with his family, dealing with a major conflict between his crew and a rival organization. As always, he handled the situation with cold precision, but by the time the meeting was over, he was exhausted. The weight of the world, it seemed, had settled on his shoulders once again.

And that was when Amelia had texted him.

"Meet me on the terrace. I know something’s bothering you."

She had this uncanny ability to see through his hardened exterior. So, after dismissing his bodyguards and retreating to his penthouse, Marco made his way to the terrace, his mind still racing over the events of the day.

He wasn’t prepared for what he found when he stepped outside.

Amelia was standing there, leaning against the railing, her dark hair swaying gently in the breeze. The soft glow of the city lights painted her features, casting an almost ethereal aura around her. She turned when she heard him approach, and the moment their eyes met, something inside him shifted.

“Hey,” she said softly, her lips curving into a smile that made his heart beat a little faster. “You look like you need a drink.”

Marco chuckled, though it wasn’t entirely from humor. “You know me too well.”

Amelia moved toward him, handing him a glass of whiskey. “I think you could use something stronger than that,” she teased.

He took the glass from her with a small grin, savoring the burn as the alcohol slid down his throat. “I think you’re right. A few more of these, and I might forget my own name.”

She laughed—genuinely, without a hint of the usual societal masks that most people wore around him. That was one of the things Marco loved about her. She didn’t act like she needed to impress him. There was no artifice.

“You’re always so serious,” she remarked, studying him intently. “What happened to the Marco who could relax, laugh, have fun?”

The question hit him harder than he expected. He hadn’t been able to let down his guard in years—not since he’d taken over the family business. “I don’t have the luxury of being that Marco anymore,” he muttered, his voice rough.

She was quiet for a moment, watching him as if seeing him for the first time. Then, she moved a little closer, her gaze softening. “That’s a shame.”

Her words lingered in the air like a gentle challenge. Marco felt a pull toward her, one he couldn’t ignore. He’d always been in control, always the one who made the first move, but Amelia—Amelia had a way of making him feel vulnerable in ways he hadn’t experienced before.

“I’m not sure you understand what I do, Amelia,” he said, his tone quieter now, a rare admission of his true burden. “The life I lead… it’s dangerous. And I don’t want to drag you into it.”

Her eyes softened, and for the first time, she placed a hand on his arm, her touch light but firm. “I’m not scared of you, Marco. I’m not scared of your world, either. I think I might actually like it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You think you can handle the chaos that is my life?”

Her lips curled into a sly smile, and she leaned in a little closer. “You’d be surprised.”

The space between them was shrinking, the air thick with unspoken tension. Marco’s heart was pounding in his chest, and before he could second-guess himself, he closed the distance, capturing her lips in a kiss.

It was slow at first—tentative, as if testing the waters—but then it deepened. Amelia responded with a softness that took him by surprise, her hands finding their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Marco felt his entire world tilt as he kissed her with a hunger he hadn’t known he had.

For a moment, the noise of the city faded away. The only thing that mattered was the feel of her against him, the taste of her lips, the way she fit so perfectly in his arms.

When they finally pulled away, both of them breathless, Marco rested his forehead against hers, unable to stop the smile that tugged at his lips. “I didn’t expect that,” he confessed.

Amelia grinned, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Neither did I. But I’m glad it happened.”

Marco’s heart skipped a beat. In all his life, he had never been at a loss for control. But in that moment, with Amelia standing so close, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time—a sense of freedom.

“I think,” he said, his voice low and serious, “you’ve just made my life a lot more interesting.”

Amelia smirked, her hands still resting on his chest. “Just wait until I show you how much more interesting it can get.”

The challenge was there in her eyes again, and Marco knew one thing for certain—this was just the beginning.

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