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Azzurra felt as though she were floating. The last two days had been a blur of excitement and preparation for Cesario’s birthday, and finally, everything was ready. Agnese, Leone, and Alarico had rotated shifts to watch over the boy, while Benedetto had stayed by her side, lending his steady hands.

Now, with everything set, Azzurra slipped into her dress. She struggled to pull the zipper up, her fingers straining, but it was no use. Leaving it half-open, she sat down to do her makeup. Agnese would be there soon she could help.

Her thoughts drifted back to when Marcello had taken her shopping. He had brought her to an upscale boutique and handed her his card without hesitation, waiting as she carefully chose a single dress. But one wasn’t enough for him. He prowled through the aisles himself, selecting dress after dress, instructing the staff to pack and send them all to the mansion.

The spree hadn’t stopped there. He had led her straight into a diamond store, where necklaces, rings, and earrings were added to his growing list of indulgences. Each time he handed over another item to be wrapped, Azzurra protested, her wide eyes begging him to stop, but he only gave her a wicked smile and a teasing wink. She had finally warned him that she’d sell everything if he didn’t control himself. Only then had he relented.

The next day, box after box arrived until her room looked like a boutique itself. To her utter astonishment, Marcello had even ordered a new door to be constructed in his chamber, leading to a massive walk-in wardrobe nearly the size of a guest room. Every gift he had bought for her was displayed as though she were a queen.

The memory left her breathless. Gratitude had melted into desire, and that night, she had thanked him in the only way she could leading to a night of fire and passion. She blushed now, remembering how he had pressed her against this very mirror, urging her to keep her eyes open and watch. The thought alone made her shiver.

A sudden touch against her bare skin jolted her back to the present. Her eyes darted to the reflection in the mirror, where a pair of smoldering amber eyes held her captive.

Marcello stood behind her, dressed in a crisp white shirt tucked into black slacks. The first few buttons were undone, revealing the hard plane of his chest, and his sleeves were rolled to the elbows. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as though he had run his fingers through it one too many times.

Hot.

As if reading her thoughts, he leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. “I know I’m irresistible, wife, but stop staring at me like that,” he teased, pulling her hair aside to kiss her neck.

“What look?” she asked, feigning innocence, her gaze stubbornly fixed on her mascara wand. He smirked but helped zip up her dress before smoothing her hair into place.

His eyes fell on her curves, and he couldn’t resist. With a swift motion, his palm connected with her rear, making her squeak.

“Marcello!” she hissed.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he said, unrepentant.

“Control your hands.”

“Give me a kiss then.”

“My lipstick will smudge.”

He narrowed his eyes at her cool dismissal. “Fine,” he muttered before pulling her against his chest and pressing his mouth to her neck. His teeth grazed her skin before he sucked gently, reviving a fading love bite until her breath caught.

She gasped, covering the spot as she turned to the mirror. The fresh mark glared back at her. She reached for her concealer, but Marcello caught her wrist, his expression smug. With a possessive grip, he led her out of the room. His marks, his rules.

By the time they entered the Hall, everyone had gathered everyone except Alarico and Cesario. Azzurra checked over the decorations one last time just as the lights dimmed. They waited in silence.

“Why is it so dwark?” Cesario’s sweet, childish voice rang out. In the next instant, party poppers exploded and the room came alive with cheers.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RIO!”

The toddler froze, his big round eyes widening as surprise overtook his little face.

“It’s my bwirthday?” he whispered, stunned.

Azzurra scooped him into her arms, nodding with a bright smile as his lips curled into a grin. His eyes sparkled when he saw the towering cake waiting for him.

The hall was full staff, guards, family every face there to celebrate.

As Cesario basked in the attention, Alarico felt a gaze on him. Looking up, he locked eyes with Blake. Her cheeks turned crimson as she glanced away, her floral dress swaying softly around her knees. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her.

“Time to cut the cake,” Marcello announced.

Silvano joined, smiling proudly at his grandson. Cesario sliced into the cake as voices rose together in song. He fed the first pieces to Azzurra and Marcello, then to Silvano, Benedetto, Alarico, Leone, and Agnese.

The little boy darted from person to person, his small hands covered in cream, his giggles contagious. Azzurra smeared a bit of icing on his nose, earning an exaggerated gasp from him before he retaliated, smudging cream on her cheek.

Marcello roared with laughter. Azzurra glared at him, refusing to kiss him for fear of ruining her makeup yet Cesario had already done the job. With a mischievous grin, she trailed cream along Marcello’s jaw.

The hall fell silent in shock.

“You little” Marcello growled playfully, before chasing her through the room. Her laughter echoed off the walls as everyone watched in delight. He caught her at last, lifting and spinning her until she gasped between fits of laughter.

Gifts soon piled around Cesario until he was almost buried in colorful boxes. His joyous claps and radiant smile filled the room with warmth.

Dinner was served, conversation flowed, and laughter carried on.

Alarico, caught in small talk with a she-wolf, noticed Elettra approaching. Without a word, she seized his wrist and tugged him away. He didn’t protest. Instead, he caught sight of Azzurra from across the room. She gave him a big, exaggerated thumbs-up. Alarico only smiled faintly and crossed his fingers behind his back.