New Home

Giorgia~

We landed in Miami, the air thick with heat and salt. Sunlight spilled across the tarmac, bright and sharp against my skin.

As we stepped off the plane, Javier's hand came to rest on the small of my back. I'd expected the touch, braced for it, but this time, I didn't flinch. My body stayed still, steady, as though it had quietly accepted the weight of it.

A black BMW SUV waited for us near the curb, engine humming softly. Without a word, Javier steered me toward it, while the others split off toward separate cars behind us.

We climbed into the back seat, and the door shut, sealing us inside. The city started to blur past the window as the car slipped into motion, palm trees and sun-drenched streets flickering by.

Silence filled the space between us, heavy and thick. I kept my eyes outside, tracing the unfamiliar streets, but even though he didn't speak, I could feel his eyes on me, steady and burning at times, like he was studying me, dissecting every inch of my silence.

The flight hadn't been long, but I still felt a little tired - maybe because I hadn't eaten properly at breakfast. Even on the plane, despite Camila's insistence, I couldn't bring myself to have more than a few bites. I'd thought Camila might be like her mother, Ximena, since she was nothing like her brothers or father, but I'd been wrong. Apart from their shared blonde hair, there wasn't much similarity between them. Ximena hadn't seemed very happy with me - or maybe that was just how she always was. It was her own son's wedding, yet she carried herself like a guest rather than family. I knew sons often grew distant from their mothers in our world, but even Camila didn't seem to share any real bond with her. Like my mother, Ximena seemed to go through the motions, doing what was expected of her, not because she truly cared.

After about forty minutes, our car rolled into a quieter, more secluded part of the city. Through the window, I saw the gates of a sleek, modern villa coming into view. Sharp angles, towering glass windows, and spotless white walls with black accents - it looked more like something out of a luxury magazine than a home. The perfectly placed palm trees and glowing lights along the steps only made it feel colder, too perfect to feel real. So this was my new home. Home - the word felt too personal for a place like this. It was just a building where I'd end up spending the rest of my life. Nothing more. We got out of the SUV, and without a word, Javier led me towards his house.

He pushed open the massive glass doors, and we stepped inside. The interior matched the exterior - sharp contrasts of white and black, clean and cold. Sleek black leather sofas sat rigidly in the living area, positioned with precise symmetry around a glass coffee table that gleamed under the soft recessed lighting. The open kitchen lay just beyond, minimalist and modern, with matte black cabinets and pristine white marble countertops. Even the steel appliances seemed untouched, more for display than use.

A long hallway extended from the living space, its polished floors echoing with every step, leading to what I assumed were the private rooms of the house. Floor-length windows lined one side of the hallway, allowing light to pour in, though it did little to warm the cold, almost sterile atmosphere. On the opposite wall hung an abstract black-and-white painting - harsh strokes, chaotic yet contained, as if it too was screaming for some kind of life.

A fireplace sat in the corner, sleek and modern, but it looked like it had never been lit, another lifeless fixture in the house. There were no plants to soften the edges, no photographs or signs of personal touch - just vast, empty spaces that felt more like a beautifully designed cage than a home. Everything was too perfect, too staged, as if real life had been carefully locked away somewhere behind the pristine walls.

I walked ahead, my steps echoing softly against the polished floors, climbing the stairs without waiting for him. I could feel his gaze on me, heavy and constant, but I pretended not to notice.

At the top, I paused in front of the floor-length windows. Since the villa sat high on the hills, it offered a sweeping view of the city below. Countless lights stretched out like a blanket of stars that had already begun to flicker to life. The skyline shimmered under the softening glow of the evening sun, and from this height, the chaos of Miami felt almost peaceful, like it belonged to another world entirely. I didn't think I'd ever seen anything quite so beautiful.

"Do you like it?" Javier's deep voice came from behind me. I hadn't heard him come up the stairs, but I kept my eyes fixed on the view.

"The view or the house?" I asked, my tone even.

"Both," he replied, stepping closer.

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, my gaze still on the city. "The view's gorgeous," I admitted honestly, unable to deny it. "I don't think I've seen something so pretty."

He didn't hesitate. "Even I don't think I've seen something so pretty," he said, and his eyes weren't on the city - they were on me.

Our eyes met, his green gaze lingering, dipping lower toward my lips. For a moment, something charged passed between us. But then, almost as quickly, he turned his head away, shifting his focus to the glass wall ahead us, as if forcing himself to dismiss whatever thought had just crossed his mind.

"And the house? Do you like it?" he asked as he started moving back downstairs.

I followed, my eyes tracing the sleek, flawless lines of the place. I hesitated, debating whether to be honest or not. "It's nice but..." I let my words trail off, unsure if I should finish.

He slowed, turning his head slightly in my direction. "But?"

I let out a quiet breath and decided not to sugarcoat it. "But it's a house, not a home," I said simply. "It's too cold... without any emotions or warmth."

He didn't say anything, just kept walking through the leading hallway and stopped in front of a massive black double door. I figured this was our room. Without a word, he pushed the door open, revealing what was likely the master bedroom.

A massive bed sat in the center of the room, dark sheets pulled neatly over it. The wall in the right was covered in mirrors, catching the last bit of the evening light.

The sudden ring of a phone shattered the silence. I turned to see it was Javier's. He picked up the call and, without looking at me, stepped out of the room.

I wasn't sure what to make of Javier. Was he trying to be nice? The thought felt foolish even as it crossed my mind, but he hadn't shown any sign of hostility, nor had he made any kind of move toward me. I knew it hadn't even been twenty minutes since we arrived, but still... a part of me couldn't help but wonder.

My eyes drifted to the bags placed neatly outside the walk-in closet. When I walked over, I noticed the left side of the closet was already filled - Javier's suits, shirts, and shoes arranged in precise order. The right side, though, was completely empty, waiting for me.

Without thinking much, I unzipped my bags and started unpacking, placing my clothes and things into the empty space. After I was done I picked up my phone and decided to call Martina. She answered after just the second ring.

"Did you guys reach?" she asked right away.

"Yes, about fifteen or twenty minutes ago," I replied, already missing her presence more than I expected.

"And how's his place?" she asked, curiosity lacing her tone.

"Cold," I answered simply.

I heard her chuckle softly. "What did you expect from him? A warm, cozy cottagecore house?" she teased, and despite everything, it pulled a small smile from me.

"I miss you," I admitted, settling onto the nearby sofa as my eyes drifted toward the window. The silence here felt unnervingly loud. "I already feel so lonely."

For a moment, Martina didn't say anything. I hadn't really expected her to answer that.

My heart lurched, the silence wrapping around me like a weight. It was too quiet here.

"I'm always here, Gia," she finally said, her voice firm yet warm. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. I can fight the whole damn world for you. Even though we aren't near, we're still together."

A tear slipped down my cheek. Her words were simple, but in that moment, they felt like a lifeline in the middle of an endless ocean. My chest ached with the weight of loneliness I hadn't realised I was carrying until now, but her voice softened it.

"I know," I whispered, my throat tight. "I just... needed to hear it."

"And you can call me anytime," she added gently. "Even if it's just to sit in silence."

A faint, almost fragile smile tugged at my lips. "I will."

"Okay, I have to go now, but text me if you need anything. I mean it," she said.

"I will," I promised, brushing away the tear clinging to my cheek. "Love you."

"Love you more," she replied, and the call ended, leaving me with a bittersweet comfort lingering in the stillness of the room.

I got up and headed towards the bathroom. I needed a long, comforting shower - something to help me calm myself down. Stepping inside, I slipped out of my clothes and turned the knob. Hot water spilled over my skin almost instantly, a breath of relief eased through me. I reached for my vanilla-scented shower gel and began scrubbing, the familiar scent and warmth easing me in a way nothing else could.

The hot water poured over me in soothing waves, as if it could wash away the weight clinging to me. I let my eyes close for a moment, letting the steam curl around me, the scent of vanilla filling the air. My fingers moved slowly over my skin, lingering longer than necessary, as if trying to scrub away not just the grime of the day but the anxiety that had buried itself deep beneath my ribs.

I tilted my head back under the stream, feeling the droplets race down my spine. The heat seeped into my muscles, loosening the tension coiled tight. For a brief second, I almost forgot where I was. Almost.

I turned slightly, reaching for my loofah, and that's when I seized.

Javier was there, standing by the vanity, trimming his beard - but his eyes weren't on his reflection. He was watching me through the mirror - a dark, smouldering gaze, heavy with desire, his eyes slowly dragging down the length of my body, tracing every curve with raw hunger.

Panic rushed through me as I realized I'd been facing him far longer than I should have. Heat bloomed on my cheeks, and not from the steaming water. Thankfully, the glass of the shower had fogged up from the heat, blurring his view - or at least, I desperately hoped it had.

I quickly shut off the water and reached for my towel, wrapping it tightly around me, my heart thudding against my ribs.

Before I could take a step back, before I could even catch my breath, Javier turned from the vanity. His eyes darkened, sharp and hungry as they roamed over me, every inch wrapped in just the thin barrier of my towel.

In two long strides, he was in front of me. His hand shot out, gripping my wrist, pulling me flush against him.

"Javier-" I barely got his name out before his mouth found the curve of my neck.

His lips were rough, no softness at all as they crashed against my skin. He didn't kiss - he claimed. His teeth grazed my flesh, then bit down just enough to make me gasp, and then I felt it - the hard, deliberate suction of his mouth marking me. My fingers instinctively pushed at his chest, but he only pulled me tighter.

"Stop-" My voice came out breathless, more like a plea than a command.

His hand slipped lower, cupping the curve of my ass through the thin towel that barely clung to my body. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, drowning out every rational thought, as if my own body was urging me to surrender.

His palm was hot, his grip possessive. I tried to wriggle free, but he growled low in his throat, a sound so dark it sent a shiver down my spine.

"Don't," he rasped against my skin, his mouth still at my throat, his breath fanning across the sensitive spot he'd just claimed. His other hand slid to the edge of the towel, fingers brushing beneath, making me suck in a sharp breath. A traitorous heat bloomed between my legs, shameful and undeniable. I hated how my body responded to his rough touch, how the throbbing ache built inside me no matter how much I wanted to push him away.

The towel barely covered me, and now, with the way his hands moved, it threatened to come undone entirely. I clenched it tightly at my chest, my pulse racing like wildfire.

"Javier, let go," I managed, trying to sound firm - but my voice trembled, betraying me.

He lifted his head slightly, his green eyes heavy with desire, roaming over my face like I belonged to him.

"You walk around like this, and you expect me not to touch you?" His voice was gravelly, low and dangerous.

My heart thundered in my chest, heat spreading through me, but I forced my glare to hold.

This man was dangerous - and right now, so was the fire between us.

Before I could respond, his fingers tightened at my waist, and in a swift, fluid motion, he backed me against the cold bathroom wall. The contrast between the chilled tiles and the heat of his body made me gasp.

"Please-" My protest was cut off as his mouth crashed onto mine, fierce and demanding. He kissed me like he wanted to devour every breath I had left, his teeth grazing my lower lip before tugging it roughly.

I pushed at his chest, but it was useless - he was solid, unyielding. His hand at my waist slipped lower, gripping the bare curve beneath the towel, so dangerously close to tearing it away.

My breath hitched as his other hand tangled in my damp hair, tilting my head to the side to expose my neck again.

"Stop fighting me, Giorgia," he murmured against my skin, his lips dragging along the line of my throat, down to my collarbone. "You don't want me to stop."

His words sent a wicked shiver down my spine, my body complicity responding to his dominance.

"No," I breathed, though my voice lacked conviction, shaky with want and defiance all at once.

But Javier was relentless. His mouth latched onto the delicate skin just above my pulse point, sucking hard until I felt the sting of him marking me, a claiming far too fierce. My knees nearly buckled from the intensity, but he held me firmly in place, as though he'd never let me go.

I could feel his hand now, beneath the hem of my towel, his fingers brushing over the sensitive curve of my thigh. Heat coiled in my belly, sharp and dizzying. He dragged his fingers higher, teasing the line between sin and salvation.

"Javier-" my voice trembled.

His gaze pinned mine, molten and unapologetic. "Say it again," he ordered, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Say my name like that."

My lips parted, breath shaky, but no words came out. My chest heaved as I battled my own treacherous desire, every nerve set alight by his touch.

"You're insane," I whispered, but my voice was breathless, uneven, betraying the storm raging inside me.

A wicked smirk curled his lips as he looked down at me, his eyes dark with sinful intent.

"Let me check if you really hate this, muñeca ," Javier rasped, his voice a gravelly threat and promise all at once.

Before I could protest, his fingers slid between my thighs, brushing against my folds - bold, unhesitant - finding the slick heat there that betrayed every word I'd tried to deny. My breath shattered from my lungs, my head falling back against the wall with a soft thud as his touch sent a jolt of fire straight through my core.

My knees buckled, but his grip at my waist kept me upright, kept me right where he wanted me. His eyes never left mine, as if he were drinking in every flicker of pleasure, every ragged breath I tried - and failed - to steady.

"So much for hating this," he murmured darkly, dragging his finger against me one last, devastating time before withdrawing.

My pulse thundered in my ears as I watched him lift his hand. Deliberately, almost lazily, he brought his glistening finger to his mouth, his tongue flicking out to taste me. His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest second, and when they opened again, they burned with something primal.

"You taste like temptation, cariño," Javier said, his voice rough silk, dangerous and addictive. His smirk deepened, and then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the bathroom - leaving me breathless, aching, and completely wrecked in his wake.

I quickly got dressed and stepped out of the bathroom. Thank God Javier wasn't there - facing him right now would've been utterly mortifying. My heart still raced from the earlier encounter, my skin prickling with leftover heat, but I forced myself to push it aside.

I thought about staying in the bedroom, locking the door, and pretending none of it happened. But then my stomach betrayed me with a loud rumble. I pressed a hand to my abdomen, willing the hunger away, but it was no use. With a sigh, I grabbed my phone and cautiously stepped out of the room.

Voices drifted from the living room, low and rough. Curiosity prickled at me. As I approached, I saw Javier talking to a man - tall, with black hair and a muscled frame, though not as formidable as Javier's. The two of them rose from the sofa as soon as I entered.

Javier's sharp gaze landed on me, and without a word, he strode over, wrapping his hand around mine in a possessive grip. He led me towards the man.

"Giorgia, this is Darian, my soldier," Javier introduced, his eyes never leaving Darian's as if issuing an unspoken command. Darian gave me a polite, professional smile, his demeanor cool but respectful.

"He'll be guarding you when I'm not around," Javier added, his tone firm, brooking no argument.

I gave a small nod in acknowledgment, still feeling Javier's grip on my hand. Darian stepped away to give us space, disappearing toward the balcony.

The moment he was out of earshot, I instinctively pulled my hand free from Javier's grasp, putting some distance between us. I didn't even fully understand why - maybe it was leftover nerves, or maybe it was the strange tightness in my chest that his touch stirred. Either way, the act felt necessary.

Javier's jaw tightened, displeasure flickering in his eyes. He didn't like that. Not after what had just happened between us.

"I'm leaving for work," he said, his voice clipped, cool. "I don't know when I'll be back. Until then, Darian will stay here."

"You can go wherever you want, but he'll be with you at all times," Javier added, his gaze briefly flicking to Darian before returning to me. "Don't be scared of him. He's here to protect you."

I shifted uncomfortably at the thought of having a stranger shadowing my every move. Was my face that easy to read? Clearly so, because Javier's eyes narrowed slightly, catching my reaction.

"Do you really trust him that much?" I asked, unable to hold back my curiosity. My voice was quieter, edged with something between wonder and suspicion. "To leave your wife alone with him?"

The corner of his mouth curled into a slow, dangerous smile. There was no warmth in it - only ice and venom, like a warning hidden in silk. He stepped closer, his presence stealing the very air between us.

"Every man in Miami knows who you are," he said, his tone a dark caress that prickled over my skin. His eyes burned into mine, possessive, untamed. "And more importantly, they know who you belong to."

My breath caught.

His next words fell like a sinister promise, his voice dropping lower, rougher.

"So even if you dance naked in front of them, they wouldn't dare lay their eyes on you."

Goosebumps erupted across my skin, a wicked chill rushing down my spine at his brutal certainty.

Without waiting for my reply, he turned away, the conversation sealed in finality. But before leaving, he cast Darian a firm, commanding nod - a silent order, clear as day.

And then Javier was gone, leaving behind only the echo of his claim and the heavy, inescapable awareness that no matter how far he went, I was never truly out of his reach.

I headed for the kitchen, not wanting to stand there awkwardly or force a conversation with Darian — and honestly, he didn't seem like he wanted that either. I busied myself with the coffee machine, grateful for the distraction.

Behind me, I could hear Darian speaking to someone on the phone, his tone low and clipped. When he hung up, I glanced over my shoulder, debating for a moment before speaking.

"Would you like to have some coffee?" I offered, hoping to ease the uncomfortable silence between us.

He looked at me, as if weighing the offer, then gave a small, polite nod. "Yeah, sure."

He stepped closer and settled onto one of the stools at the kitchen island, scrolling through his phone while I finished preparing the drinks. Once done, I slid a mug toward him. He accepted it with a quiet "Thanks," and took a sip.

We drank in silence, but the quiet grew heavier by the second, wrapping around us awkwardly. Not able to take it any longer, I cleared my throat and tried to make conversation.

"Uh… do you know where Javier's family lives?" I asked, genuinely curious.

Darian set his mug down and met my gaze briefly before answering. "Capo lives with his wife and Camila in the main city," he replied smoothly.

"Ivan also stays in the city," he continued, his tone casual, "but not with them. He has a penthouse in one of the skyscrapers."

I took another sip of my coffee, letting the warmth settle my nerves, before glancing at Darian again.

"Do you know where Javier has gone?" I asked, my voice casual, though my intrigue was anything but.

For a brief second, Darian hesitated. His eyes flicked away, as if weighing what he should say. But then he masked it with practiced ease and gave a safe, measured answer.

"There's a meeting," he said, keeping his tone even. "With the underbosses and captains. He's there."

Something about the way he said it — too smooth, too rehearsed — made my stomach twist. He wasn't lying entirely, but he wasn't telling me the whole truth either. I felt it deep in my bones. But I didn't push.

I gave a small nod, as if satisfied, and focused back on my coffee, though my mind was racing elsewhere.

That's when my phone pinged, the sharp sound cutting through the heavy silence in the kitchen.

I frowned and reached for it, my pulse quickening as I saw the notification:

Unknown Number.

Swiping it open, I read the message.

I hope you like the gift.

A chill swept over me, sinking into my bones. My breath caught in my throat as a terrible, icy realization crawled over my skin. I knew exactly who it was.