Chapter 82 CHAPTER 082

Chapter 82 CHAPTER 082
Anna froze, her fork hovering halfway to her mouth. Slowly, she lowered it back to her plate, the soft clink sounding far too loud in the sudden quiet. 

Every eye at the table turned toward her.

Her eyes flicked around the table, landing on their expectant faces. Everyone was waiting—expecting her to say something. 

Anna’s thoughts spun wildly. She didn’t know what to say, knowing that telling the truth would only make Isabella ask questions she couldn’t bear to answer, yet she couldn’t bring herself to lie. 

“We met at…” she began, but her words faltered.

“At where?” Isabella prompted gently. 

Anna swallowed. “We met at—”

“We met at a restaurant,” Vincenzo cut in.

Anna turned to him and caught a wide smile on his lips as their gazes locked.

“Isn’t that right, mi amore?” he added, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Anna breathed out, too quickly. “Yes, that’s right.”

“The minute I set eyes on Anna that day, I couldn’t look away. From that moment, I knew she was the one for me,” 

Vincenzo continued, his gaze fixed on mine, watching my every reaction. 

“Awwn, che romantico (That’s romantic),” Rosalia cooed.

Romantic? More like an act. A lie only I could see through. If only they knew how ruthless and heartless he really was, Anna thought.

Isabella clasped her hands together, her eyes fixed on Anna. “So… who said ‘I love you’ first?”

Anna’s throat tightened. “I…”

“I did,” Vincenzo interrupted again.

Anna stared at him, her stomach flipping in shock. 

Why had he admitted that? 

Still, a faint relief washed over her—at least she wouldn’t be the one to tell a lie.

“Aww, my brother is such a lover boy,” Isabella cooed, her eyes sparkling.

“Honestly, I never thought brother would find love again… not after everything that happened,” Martina said.

“What happened?” Anna asked. 

Martina pressed her lips together and looked down at her plate, unwilling to answer.

A heavy silence hung in the air.

Isabella broke it with a bright, careless tone. “Anna, brother had a girlfriend, her name was Lucia. He loved her so much, but she broke his heart and left him to marry some old, rich man.” 

As Isabella spoke, the mood at the table shifted.

Rosalia shot Isabella a sharp look. 

Martina lifted her eyes and stared at Isabella, shocked at what she was saying.

The old man’s fork stilled. 

Vincenzo’s hand, resting beside his plate, slowly clenched into a fist, the knuckles whitening around the silver fork.

“Brother almost killed himself—” Isabella continued, oblivious to the tension surrounding her.

“Enough, Isabella!” the old man growled. “Let us eat before the food gets cold.”

Isabella immediately fell silent, ducking her head as she prodded her pasta on her plate with her fork.

No one spoke after that. 

The rest of the meal passed in a stiff, awkward silence, broken only by the soft clink of cutlery. 

After dinner, everyone said their goodbyes and returned to their rooms.

Vincenzo held Anna’s hand as they walked back to his room, his grip tight and almost painful.

The moment they stepped inside and the door closed, cutting them off from his family’s view, he let go of her hand as if it had burned him.

Crossing the room, he moved to the bed and began stripping.

His shirt hit the floor with a soft thud.

The belt buckle clinked as he shoved his pants and boxers down in one rough motion, stepping out of them completely naked.

Anna quickly looked away, her face burning.

Without a word or even a glance in her direction, Vincenzo climbed into the bed and yanked the blanket over himself.

What the hell? Anna thought, her heart pounding. Is he really going to sleep on the bed naked?

Or… was he hot?

Was that why he was going to sleep naked?

She shook her head. No, that didn’t make sense. If he were hot, why cover himself with the blanket?

Anna wanted so badly to ask him about it, but she didn’t have the courage. 

She decided then that she wouldn’t sleep in the bed with him and would sleep in the couch instead.

A second blanket was folded neatly at the foot of the bed. 

She grabbed it and made her way toward the large red couch in the corner.

“Where are you going?” Vincenzo’s voice made her freeze.

Her back stiffened. 

Slowly, she turned and met Vincenzo’s gaze.

He was lying on his side, head propped on one hand, watching her. The blanket hung low, covering him only to the waist.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch,” she muttered.

“Why?” His gaze stayed fixed on her.

“I… I just wanted to give you some space.”

“Did I ask for it?”

“No.”

“So why?”

“Um…” Anna fumbled, clutching the blanket to her chest.

“If you have nothing to say, just get in bed and sleep,” Vincenzo instructed.

Anna didn’t move. She stood frozen, rooted to the spot.

“Anna?” he growled.

“You’re… naked,” she blurted, her cheeks burning. “I can’t sleep in the bed with you like that.”

He let out a short, humorless breath. “So that’s the reason?”

Anna nodded, clutching the blanket tighter.

“I don’t sleep with my clothes on,” he said calmly. “But if you’d rather sleep on the couch, suit yourself.”

Without another word, he rolled onto his side, turning his back to her.

Did he really just let it go?

Anna stared at his still form, stunned. 

A flicker of relief washed over her that he hadn’t pushed it further or forced her into the bed. 

She turned and went to the couch and lay down, pulling the blanket over herself. 

The couch was elegant but stiff, every spring pressing sharply into her back and hips despite its luxurious upholstery. 

She shifted, turned, even punched the thin pillow, but nothing brought comfort.

Hours passed, and she still couldn’t sleep.

Anna cursed herself for not just getting into bed as Vincenzo had instructed.

Besides It wasn’t like anything would have happened if she had… or that he would have touched her.

Or would he?

The thought kept her tossing and turning until exhaustion finally dragged her into a fitful sleep.

\~~~~

Anna’s eyes opened to the morning light. 

Vincenzo stood beside the window, just a few feet away, the sun blazing behind him, outlining every hard line of his body. 

He looked so fucking hot. 

Like a god. 

A god with tattoos.

Smoke curled around him in a hazy white circle from the cigarette between his fingers, and the sight made her breath catch.

His defined abs, made her stomach twist with a sudden, shocking urge to touch them, to trace the ridges with her fingers. 

Her gaze drifted upward over his toned chest, along the dips and planes she ached to feel.

Finally, her gaze landed on his lips—full and perfectly shaped.

She wished she could kiss...

Snap out of it, she scolded herself.

But she couldn’t. 

She kept her gaze fixed on Vincenzo, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t look away.

“Are you done eye-fucking me?” Vincenzo asked, his voice raspy and deep.