Chapter 154 – His Favorite Yellow Dress

Chapter 154 – His Favorite Yellow Dress

Katarina POV
“Vittorio didn’t get angry? Didn’t even smile?” I muttered to myself as I shut the bathroom door, pressing a hand to my lips. My stomach had been rolling since I told him the words. Pregnant. I thought he’d shout, or laugh, or even hit the wall like he does when rage boils. But no—he just stared. Stunned.
I splashed water on my face, but when I stepped back into the room, I froze.
Valentino was sitting in the armchair like he owned it. My chair. My space. His legs were open, his back lazy, and in his hand—my panties. He was holding them to his face, breathing in.
“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped.
He didn’t even flinch. He looked up, slow, and smirked. “You took your sweet time in there. I had to keep myself busy.”
“Busy?” My voice cracked with disgust. “Sniffing my underwear?”
“Relax.” He dropped them in his lap like it was nothing. “I’ve done worse.”
I felt my throat close. “Why are you even here? Why didn’t you go with your brother? You’re usually his shadow.”
Valentino leaned back deeper, eyes heavy on me. “Because he told me not to leave your side. His exact words
‘Don’t take your eyes off her till I’m back.’”
The way he mimicked Vittorio’s voice made my skin prickle.
I crossed my arms. “So you’re my babysitter now?”
He chuckled low. “Not babysitter. Guard. Vittorio’s got deadly business tonight with the media.” His grin widened. “Deadly. You know what that means.”
I swallowed. “What does it mean?”
“It means…” He tapped his temple. “By the time morning comes, there won’t be a single clip, picture, or word left about you on the internet. Vittorio will erase the whole damn thing. He’ll kill every last one of them if he has to.”
The way he said it, with so much certainty, sent a shiver through me. I hated the idea of blood being spilled, but something warm lit in my chest. Vittorio—he was doing it for me. For my name.
“You’re smiling,” Valentino said suddenly.
I wiped the corner of my lips. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” His eyes softened, but only for a second. “See? Even you can feel it. He’s in love with you. Vittorio De Luca. The man who never loved anyone, not even himself. He’d burn cities just to keep your face clean.”
My heart twisted. I didn’t know why, but hearing it from Valentino made it feel more real.
I spun away from him, rushing back to the bathroom as bile rose. I knelt and vomited, the bitter taste clawing my throat.
“Shit.” Valentino’s voice was closer now. Too close. A hand landed on my back. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been looking sick since Fiorella came back. Did she poison you? Contaminate the air with her bad luck?”
I coughed, rinsed my mouth, and shoved him off. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” His eyes narrowed, searching mine. “What are you hiding?”
I gripped the sink. Should I tell him? That maybe I was pregnant. That maybe it was his. Or Vittorio’s. Or no one’s at all. Just my sick body playing tricks. My tongue froze.
Instead, I whispered, “It’s nothing.”
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, but when I turned, Valentino was still there, leaning against the doorway. Watching me.
“You missed a spot.” His voice was low.
I frowned, reaching for a towel, but he moved first. His hand caught my chin, thumb brushing the corner of my lip where a tiny stain clung. He didn’t let go. His touch lingered, warm.
“Val—”
“Shh,” he whispered. His thumb dragged slow across my skin. He didn’t have to say it, but I felt it in the air between us—the memory of Valmora. That night. The way his hands had known exactly where to touch. The way I had screamed into the sheets until my throat was raw.
“You remember,” he murmured, like he’d read my thoughts. His lips curved against my cheek. “Don’t lie.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. My body betrayed me; I was already heating under his gaze, already remembering the pleasure that had nearly broken me before Vittorio dragged me back into his world.
“Stop it,” I whispered, but it came out weak.
“Stop what?” He slid closer, his chest brushing mine. His hand slipped from my mouth to my throat, thumb stroking along the line of my pulse. “You want me to stop?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My body answered for me when he dipped his head and kissed me—slow, rough, tasting of hunger.
I gave in. God help me, I gave in. My hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him down harder. His tongue pushed into my mouth and I moaned into him, remembering the fire, the heat, the way he always played just on the edge of pain.
“You missed me,” he whispered against my lips. His hand slid down, cupping my breast, thumb circling over my nipple through the thin fabric. I gasped, arching into his palm.
“I…” My voice broke as heat flushed through me. “Valentino…”
He grinned, biting my lower lip. “I’ll remind you how loud you were that night. How you begged me not to stop.” His hand slipped lower, teasing the edge of my dress, sliding up my thigh. My body shivered hard, every nerve on fire.
“Don’t…” I whispered, but my hips tilted into his touch, betraying me.
He growled low, fingers brushing higher. “Say that again, kitten. Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want it.”
I couldn’t. My body ached. My nipples were hard, swollen, and I rubbed them through my dress as his fingers pressed between my thighs, finding the heat there.
I moaned. “Oh God…”
Valentino kissed me again, harder this time, his tongue rough, his hand spreading fire over me. I was lost, dizzy, the bathroom spinning around me.
And then
Buzz.
my phone buzzed on the nightstand. Vittorio. My breath hitched as I read the message.
Stay put, my little kitten. Do not move an inch. Do nothing that strains you. I’m watching you even from afar. Wear the yellow sundress today—it will brighten my day from a distance.
I pressed the phone to my chest, smiling in spite of myself. My yellow dress. He remembered it.
My thighs still burned from his touch, but my chest ached with guilt as Vittorio’s name glared on the screen. The heat between my legs fought with the cold guilt flooding my ribs. I wanted both men and hated myself for it.
The words crashed through me like ice water. I froze, my lips still locked under Valentino’s.
He pulled back just enough to see my eyes dart to the glowing screen. He saw the name. His jaw clenched.
Valentino saw my face and his smirk dropped. His jaw ticked, sharp. Jealousy burned in his eyes so plain I could taste it in the air.
“Of course,” he muttered, voice rough. He slammed his palm against the wall beside my head, making me jump. “He always knows when to ruin it.”
His laugh cracked, too sharp. For a second, I swore I saw something break in his eyes before the mask slid back on. The smirk returned, but I could still feel the wound pulsing beneath it.
I touched my swollen lips, breath shaky. My heart was still racing, body still on fire, but guilt crawled up my spine.
He tilted his head, suspicious, but he didn’t push. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Fine. Since I’m on guard duty by the almighty Vittorio, what are we doing today, my lady?”
The way he said it—mocking, but still careful—pulled a small laugh from me. “You’re ridiculous. I don’t need protecting. I need peace.”
“Peace?” His smirk returned. “That’s boring. I was thinking… I spoil you today. Like a princess. Because that’s what you are—the De Luca twins’ princess.”
The words curled around me, hot and dangerous.
He stepped closer. “Get dressed,” he said flatly. “I’ve got somewhere to take you. I’ll be waiting.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I was supposed to spend the day with Papi.”
“Bring him then. Makes no difference to me.” He leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed my cheek. “But you’re coming with me.”
He leaned close, his breath hot on my ear. “You can wear the yellow dress for him, kitten. But don’t forget who almost had you out of it first.”
I swallowed, heart hammering. Between my yellow dress, Vittorio’s shadow over me, and Valentino’s jealous heat filling the room, I wasn’t sure which man’s cage I was in anymore.