Chapter 34: War Has Come Home

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Enna's POV:

Sunlight streamed through the windshield, casting a warm glow on the interior of the car. Contessa hummed along softly to the music playing on the radio, a comfortable silence settling between us.

I stole a glance at her, mesmerized by the way the sunlight danced in her hair, highlighting the soft curve of her cheekbones and the way her eyelashes fluttered gently against her skin. Last night, it had been incredible. A whirlwind of passionate kisses, bold caresses, and an intimacy that left me breathless.

Yet, as I gripped the steering wheel, a knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. The memory of the words that almost escaped my lips during the heat of the moment sent a shiver down my spine...

——

Contessa's back arched as my touch ignited a spark on her skin. Time seemed to slow, the room filled only with the frantic rhythm of our breaths and the whispered moans escaping her lips. "Enna..." Contessa breathed, her eyes fluttering closed. In that suspended moment, raw emotion surged through me, a primal possessiveness coupled with a tenderness I'd never known. The words, choked with passion, almost tumbled out – "I lo..." – before I slammed my lips back down on hers, desperately trying to dam the unfamiliar flood within me.

——

Love. The very concept felt nebulous to me, a word tossed around carelessly in movies and romance novels. Sure, I'd experienced crushes, fleeting moments of infatuation. But this? This connection with Contessa was something entirely different, deeper and more complex than anything I'd ever known.

Panic clawed at my throat. This uncharted territory was terrifying. Love. Was that really what I feel for Contessa? The intensity, the possessiveness that flared when I saw mem and women eyeing her... it was unlike anything I'd ever experienced.
But the thought of admitting it, of making myself so vulnerable, sent a fresh wave of panic through me.

The idea both terrified and exhilarated me. Contessa, with her quiet strength and captivating intellect, had burrowed her way under my skin, leaving a mark I couldn't ignore.

But love? Was I ready for the weight of that word, the vulnerability it implied? I, Enna Victoria "Wyvern" Rossi, the woman who thrived on independence and control, the very idea of letting someone else hold my heart hostage was terrifying.

Stealing another glance at Contessa, I saw a peaceful serenity etched on her face, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within me. The thought of hurting her, of shattering this fragile connection we had built, was unbearable.

A frustrated groan escaped my lips. This was a whole new level of complication, and it wasn't something I'd signed up for. I'm in uncharted territory, and the map seemed to be missing. All I could do was grip the steering wheel tighter and keep driving, the rising sun a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil churning within me.

...

The familiar clang of my office door jolted me out of my internal battle. I raised a brow as Sofia strode in. Her sharp gaze scanned the room, lingering for a beat on the scattered paperwork before settling on my face.

"Wyvern," she began, her voice devoid of its usual cheerfulness. "We have a situation."

My pulse quickened, not from the urgency in her voice, but from the unwelcome distraction it offered from my emotional whirlpool. "What is it?" I asked, forcing a calmness I didn't quite feel.

"Urgent message from Don Marco," Sofia continued, her brow furrowed in concern. "Apparently, things in New York have gone south. The shipment we were expecting got intercepted, The one due from Caruso." Sofia stated, her words sharp and businesslike.

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