Episode 3: Velvet Hunger

Isabella

The morning sunlight hit the marble floors like a warning. I couldn’t think, couldn’t eat, couldn’t pretend the world was normal. All I could feel was him—the smoldering weight of Matteo DeLuca in my veins.

I tried to tell myself it was madness. He was the enemy. A DeLuca. Everything I’d been taught, every story of family honor, said he was danger incarnate.

And yet… my body betrayed me.

I wandered into the garden again, drawn to the roses, to the memory of his eyes. My fingers traced the edge of a crimson bloom, soft and wet with dew. The thought of his gaze, the rough curve of his jaw, the heat in his eyes, made my pulse spike.

I didn’t notice him at first.

“Can’t leave me alone, princess?” His voice was low, teasing, dangerous.

I froze, stomach tightening. I had been so careful, so private. How had he found me again?

“Why are you here?” I demanded, though my throat was dry.

“Because you taste like trouble.”

I swallowed. That simple sentence sent shivers down my spine. My father would have killed him on sight. And yet, in this moment, part of me didn’t want him gone.

He stepped closer. The space between us thickened, charged like a live wire. I could feel his heat, smell his leather and smoke, and it made my body ache in ways I didn’t fully understand.

“Isabella…” he whispered, his voice rough, dragging over my name like silk. “One touch and neither of us will go back.”

I didn’t step back. My lips parted. “Then touch me,” I breathed.

He hesitated, and I saw the storm in his eyes—the battle between desire and restraint.

Matteo

She dared me.

Every instinct screamed at me to pull away. She was Isabella Romano. Untouchable, untamed, dangerous. A single wrong move could start a war.

But she wanted it. That was clear in the curve of her lips, the flush of her cheeks, the way her eyes were locked on mine. She wanted this as much as I did.

I took a slow step closer, just enough to brush against her arm. The contact made her shiver, and I wanted to crush her to me, to taste that soft heat, to make her mine in a way no one could undo.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” I growled.

“I don’t care,” she said. Her voice was steady, fearless. I felt my breath catch.

One hand lifted, trembling slightly, and I let my fingers brush her jawline. She tilted her head into my touch, lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded with want.

The world fell away. The roses, the garden, the families—they didn’t exist. There was only her and the hunger coiling between us.

I leaned closer, our breaths mingling, my lips barely an inch from hers. The ache was unbearable. I wanted more, but the weight of reality slammed into me. My hand dropped. I stepped back.

“Not here,” I said, voice low, ragged. “If anyone sees us—”

“Then hide me,” she whispered, her hands grazing my chest.

Her touch was fire. My control shattered. But I forced myself to step back, knowing that yielding fully would cost more than either of us could afford.

Still, as I walked away, I couldn’t stop seeing her in my mind. Every curve, every word, every daring glance. The hunger was relentless.

Isabella

I watched him leave, the sound of the gravel crunching under his boots echoing in my chest. My fingers still tingled where he had brushed me, and my lips ached from the nearness of his.

I was obsessed. That was the only word that fit. He had invaded my thoughts, my dreams, my body. And the cruelest part? I wanted him to.

I touched the rose again, imagining his lips instead of the petals. Velvet. Sharp. Sinful. I shivered and cursed myself for needing him, for craving him like the most dangerous drug.

My reflection in the fountain caught my eye. I looked… different. Not just beautiful, but alive in a way I hadn’t felt before. Matteo had lit something inside me, something I couldn’t put out.

I knew this was only the beginning.

Matteo

By the time I returned to the city, I couldn’t shake her from my mind. Every shadow in Naples seemed to whisper her name. Every street corner, every reflection in a shop window reminded me of her.

I was a DeLuca, trained to be ruthless, to kill, to obey. But Isabella Romano was a weapon I couldn’t resist, a temptation I couldn’t deny.

And I knew one day soon, I would cross the line.

She was mine—if I was brave enough to take her.

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