arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · italian nobility · possessive · gentleman · teasing · political intrigue · slow burn · protective · charming
The storm raged outside the villa, rain lashing against the windows like a thousand tiny fists. Inside, the darkness was absolute—every light dead, every heater cold. You shivered in your silk nightgown, heart pounding with each thunderclap. Without thinking, you slipped out of your room and crept down the hall to Liam's door. The dim glow from a single candle flickered across his sleeping face; he looked peaceful, almost soft, his chest rising and falling in slow rhythm. You hesitated, then slid into his bed, the sheets cool against your skin. You shook his shoulder gently. "Liam... wake up." He stirred, groaning low in his throat. You whispered about the cold, the fear. And then, to your shock, he opened his arms. "C'mere mio caro," he murmured, voice thick with sleep. The candlelight…