Saint Or Sinner?

Thirty Seven.

I arrived in Italy—Venice, to be precise.

The city was breathtaking, a living postcard of narrow canals, grand bridges, and golden-hued buildings that seemed to hum with history.

But beneath my admiration, a quiet apprehension coiled in my chest. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, shutting off the worry building up.

The moment my phone switched on, Ava's name flashed across the screen.

I huffed a laugh, shaking my head. She couldn't even wait for me to settle in before checking up on me.

I didn't get chance to message her when a voice came. "Signora."

I looked up to find a suited man holding up a card with my name on it.

His voice was smooth, professional, the kind of person who had probably seen all types of people pass through this city.

He moved quickly, helping me load my suitcase into the trunk with an effortless efficiency.

"Thank you," I murmured, sliding into the car.

I handed him my phone, showing him the address Mr. Dae-seong, my new boss, had sent me.

Mr. Dae-seong—a charming Korean man in his forties—was my new employer. So far, he was the best boss I had ever had. Well, except Luciano of course.

Mr Dae-seong owned multiple fashion companies in Asia and the U.S., yet he treated me like his own child.

He is Respectful, kind, and considerate despite his status—everything Henry Paisley wasn't.

A week after leaving Luciano, I had started searching for a job, and by some stroke of luck, I landed this position as Mr. Dae-seong's secretary.

It was a fresh start. A clean slate. Or at least, that's what I kept telling myself.

But no matter how hard I tried, the thoughts of Luciano still haunted me, curling around my heart like an unrelenting grip.

His presence was carved into me, it was impossible to forget him.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those dark gray orbs staring into my soul.

I felt his touch ghosting over my skin, his lips claiming mine, his scent, that intoxicating blend of spice and danger, drowning me.

I clenched my hands in my lap.

He hadn't just tainted my innocence—he had entwined our souls, bound our hearts together in a way I couldn't escape.

Now, everything I did, everything I saw, reminded me of him. And it hurts.

It hurt because since that day when he scared someone off at a restaurant for being so close, he hadn't come.

He hadn't chased after me to tell me I was wrong, that I was different. He hadn't apologized, hadn't tried to explain.

And maybe what hurt more than anything else is that, I didn't even know what my feelings were for that beast anymore.