Mia vita

Giovanni

She didn’t waltz into my life, she crashed into it. Battered and bruised—and yet, I couldn’t look away. The moment her eyes, dark as molten chocolate, locked onto mine, something in me shifted.

I pride myself on control. Discipline. Restraint. It’s what separates men like me from the animals we rule. But the second Hayat Lihane stepped into my penthouse, everything I built began to crack.

She talks too much, she’s oblivious, and Dio mio, how many times have I wanted to silence her just to get a moment of peace? Too many.

And still, I think the same thing every damn time: Thank God she’s pretty. And thank God she’s under my care now.

Because alone? She wouldn’t survive.

That’s what I told myself.

That she needed me.

That I could keep her safe, keep her mine, without losing control.

But that’s the thing about pride.

It blinds you.

And by the time it clears, all you see is the ruin you made with your own hands.

Hayat

I fell right at his feet. Literally.

Don Giovanni Moretti. A name that should strike fear in anyone. It should have sent me running. It didn’t. Instead, he offered me a place to stay. Who would’ve thought that place would be his house?

Giovanni Moretti isn’t what I expected. A don should be ruthless, untouchable, arrogant. And he is. But add in a dangerous dose of charm, a sharp mind, and a generosity that feels almost out of place and suddenly, I’m not sure what’s more terrifying.

Maybe I made a mistake. Maybe forcing my way into his life will be the biggest regret of mine.