Chapter 25 The Interrogation

Chapter 25 The Interrogation

Marcella's POV

I pulled the black dress from my bag with shaking hands.

It was the only nice thing I'd packed, simple, fitted, falling just above my knees. Nothing like the red dress Lorenzo had chosen for the docks, but it would have to do.

The bathroom door opened, and Lorenzo stepped out wearing dark slacks and a white button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows. He looked expensive. Dangerous. Like exactly the kind of man who'd own a woman completely.

His eyes swept over me, still in my jeans and blouse.

"Not dressed yet?"

"I was waiting for the bathroom."

"Use it. We have twenty minutes before dinner."

I grabbed my toiletry bag and squeezed past him. The space was tiny, and my shoulder brushed his chest. The contact sent heat through me.

I locked the door and leaned against it, trying to calm my racing heart.

This was a job. An interrogation disguised as a vacation. I needed to focus on getting information from Claudia, not on the fact that I'd be sleeping in Lorenzo's arms tonight.

I changed quickly, smoothing the dress over my hips. Applied minimal makeup, just enough to look polished. Left my hair down because Lorenzo seemed to like it that way.

When I stepped out, he was standing by the window, looking out at the darkening vineyards.

He turned, and his expression shifted. Heated.

"Come here."

I walked toward him slowly. He watched every step.

When I was close enough, he reached out and pulled me against him. One hand settled on my lower back, the other cupped my jaw.

"Perfect," he murmured. "You look like you're mine."

"That's the point, isn't it? To convince Claudia?"

"Yes." His thumb brushed my cheekbone. "But it's not just an act anymore, is it?"

Before I could answer, he kissed me. Slow and deep, his tongue sweeps into my mouth with lazy possession. When he pulled back, my lipstick was smudged.

He smiled and wiped his thumb across my lower lip. "Now you look properly kissed. Like we couldn't wait for dinner."

"Lorenzo"

"Remember what I told you in the car. I'm going to touch you tonight. You're going to let me. And you're going to act like you love every second of it."

"Because we're playing a part."

His eyes darkened. "Keep telling yourself that, amore."

\---

Dinner was served on a terrace overlooking the vineyards. String lights hung overhead, and candles flickered on the long wooden table. Four other couples were staying at the villa, all older, all clearly wealthy.

Claudia presided over the table like a gracious hostess, pouring wine and making sure everyone was comfortable.

Lorenzo's hand found mine under the table, his fingers lacing through mine.

"So," Claudia said, smiling at us. "Newlyweds. How long have you been married?"

"Three weeks," Lorenzo answered smoothly. "We had a small ceremony. Family only."

"How romantic. And where are you from?"

"Catania," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Lorenzo's family has businesses there."

"Import export," Lorenzo added. "Very boring. That's why I wanted to bring my wife somewhere beautiful. Somewhere we could forget about work for a few days."

Claudia's smile tightened slightly. "Yes, it's important to escape sometimes. To leave behind the complicated parts of life."

There was something in her tone. A bitterness that didn't match her cheerful hostess act.

Lorenzo squeezed my hand, a silent signal. He'd heard it too.

The first course arrived, a light soup with fresh herbs. The conversation flowed around us, other guests talking about wine regions and harvest schedules.

Lorenzo's hand stayed on my thigh throughout the meal. Not sexual, just possessive. A constant reminder that I belonged to him.

When the main course was served, Claudia refilled my wine glass.

"You're lucky," she said quietly, just to me. "To have a husband who looks at you like that."

I glanced at Lorenzo. He was talking to the man beside him about grape varieties, but his thumb was stroking circles on my leg.

"I am," I said, surprised to find I meant it.

Claudia's expression turned sad. "Hold onto it. Men like that, strong men, powerful men, they're rare. And they're dangerous."

"Dangerous how?"

She looked down at her plate. "They make you love them. And then they change. Become someone you don't recognize."

My pulse quickened. Was she talking about Giovanni?

"Are you married?" I asked carefully.

"No. But I've been with someone for five years. He used to be different. Gentler. But lately..." She shook her head. "I don't know him anymore."

Lorenzo's hand tightened on my thigh. He was listening.

"That must be hard," I said.

"It is. Especially when they disappear for weeks at a time. When they won't tell you where they've been or what they've done." Claudia's voice dropped lower. "When they talk about things that scare you."

"What kind of things?"

She looked up at me, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Revenge. Justice. Making people pay for what they've done." She laughed bitterly. "He talks about his niece sometimes. Says she's going to fix everything. That she's braver than he ever was."

The soup turned to acid in my stomach.

Giovanni was still talking about me. Still thought I was his weapon.

"The niece sounds remarkable," I managed.

"I've never met her. But he loves her, I think. In his way." Claudia picked up her wine glass and drained it. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be burdening you with this. You're on your honeymoon."

Lorenzo leaned across me, his voice warm and concerned. "Not at all. Marriage is complicated. Sometimes it helps to talk to someone who understands."

Claudia smiled at him gratefully. "You're very kind."

"We're here for two more days," Lorenzo said. "If you'd like company, my wife would be happy to spend time with you. Wouldn't you, cara?"

His hand squeezed my thigh, a clear command.

"Of course," I said. "I'd love to."

\---

After dinner, Lorenzo suggested we take a walk through the vineyards. The other guests headed to their rooms, and Claudia excused herself to oversee the kitchen cleanup.

As soon as we were alone, Lorenzo pulled me down a path between the vines.

"She knows where he is," he said quietly.

"How can you be sure?"

"Because she's terrified. And women don't get that scared unless they know exactly what their men are capable of."

He stopped walking and turned to face me, his hands framing my face.

"Tomorrow, you need to get her alone. Make her trust you. Find out where Giovanni's hiding."

"And if she won't tell me?"

"She will." His thumbs stroked my cheekbones. "Because you're good at this, Marcella. Better than you know."

"At what? Lying?"

"At making people believe you. At becoming what they need you to be."

The words should have felt like an insult. Instead, they felt like recognition.

"What if I can't do it?"

"You can." He kissed my forehead. "And I'll be right there. If things go wrong, if you need me, I'll come."

We stood there in the darkness, surrounded by vines, and I felt something shift inside me. This wasn't just about revenge anymore. It was about partnership. About trusting him the way he was trusting me.

"Lorenzo?"

"Yes?"

"Earlier, in the car. When you said there was nothing wrong with me"

"I meant it."

"How do you know?"

His hands slid down to my waist, pulling me flush against him. "Because I know what desire looks like, Marcella. I've seen it in your eyes. Your body knows exactly what it wants. It just needs someone who knows how to give it to you."

"And you think you're that someone?"

"I know I am." His mouth brushed my ear. "And I'm going to prove it to you. Soon."

A sound in the distance made us both freeze.

Footsteps on gravel.

Lorenzo's entire body went tense, his hand moving to the small of his back where I knew he kept a gun.

But it was just another couple from dinner, walking hand in hand through the vines.

Lorenzo relaxed slightly, but his eyes scanned the darkness.

"We should go back," he said. "It's not safe out here."

He took my hand and led me back toward the villa.

\---

The room felt smaller when we returned.

Lorenzo locked the door and checked the windows, his movements efficient and practiced. Then he turned to me.

"Get ready for bed."

My stomach flipped. "Lorenzo"

"I'm not going to touch you. Not like that. Not tonight." He pulled his shirt over his head, and I tried not to stare at the muscles of his chest and stomach. "But you're sleeping next to me. That's not negotiable."

I grabbed the silk pajamas I'd packed, shorts, and a matching top, and retreated to the bathroom.

When I came out, Lorenzo was already in bed, the covers pulled to his waist. He'd kept his boxer briefs on, but that was it.

The sight of him like that, all muscle and ink and masculine beauty, made my mouth go dry.

"Come here, Marcella."

I climbed into bed slowly, staying on the far edge.

He made a disapproving sound and reached for me, pulling me across the mattress until I was pressed against his side.

"This is how we sleep," he said. "You, right here. Where I can feel you breathing."

His arm wrapped around me, holding me close. I could feel his heartbeat against my cheek, steady and strong.

"Relax," he murmured. "I told you I'm not going to do anything."

"Then why does this feel more dangerous than if you were?"

He laughed softly. "Because it is. Because this is intimacy, Marcella. This is trust. And that's more terrifying than sex ever could be."

He was right.

Lying here in his arms, feeling safe despite everything, was the most dangerous thing I'd ever done.

"Go to sleep," he said. "Tomorrow you have work to do."

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the heat of his body, the way his hand was stroking my hair, the steady rhythm of his breathing.

But sleep didn't come easily.

Because every time I started to drift off, I'd become hyper aware of him. In the way, my leg was tangled with his. Of the way his hand had slid under my pajama top, resting on my bare waist. Of the way I could feel him getting hard against my hip.

"Marcella," he said into the darkness, his voice strained. "Stop moving."

"I'm not."

"You are. And if you keep pressing against me like that, I'm going to forget every promise I made."

I went still.

His hand tightened on my waist. "Better. Now sleep."

But I couldn't.

Because lying here in his arms, feeling wanted and safe and terrified all at once, I realized the truth.

I wasn't falling for Lorenzo.

I'd already fallen.

And there was no going back.