Matteo, Leonardo, and Alessandro, the powerful owners of De Angeli Enterprises, are in their early thirties and have built a fearsome reputation worldwide. Known for their ruthlessness and ambition, these men have amassed wealth and influence by tak...
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The way Yulia held Leonardo's hand as they strolled through the mall, her fingers lacing so delicately with his, made his chest tighten with a mix of emotions he couldn't quite name. Her touch was light, tentative, as though she was still adjusting to the world outside the confines of the hospital, but there was a quiet determination in the way she stayed close to him. He matched her pace, keeping their movements unhurried, always mindful of her.
Her small frame still seemed so fragile to him, her steps a little slower, her eyes darting around the busy space with a mix of curiosity and cautiousness. But despite it all, he could see the flickers of strength beneath her gentleness—the resilience that had brought her back to them. And in those moments, when her fingers tightened ever so slightly around his, he felt the unspoken promise that she was trying, for them and for herself.
They had just finished eating pizza, a simple meal that had brought a spark of joy to her face as she savored the slice. It was a far cry from the endless monotony of mashed potatoes and bread she had endured, and watching her enjoy it had been a gift in itself. Now, as they wandered through the bustling corridors, Leonardo couldn't help but glance down at her, taking in the faint smile that played at her lips.
"Baby," he began, his voice low and steady, drawing her attention. She looked up at him, her tired yet hopeful expression meeting his. "I know your scars might bother you," he said carefully, the words weighted with both tenderness and hesitation. "So I spoke to someone in Turkey about a laser treatment. They might not go away completely, depending on how old they are, or—"
He paused, his words catching in his throat. He didn't want to push her, didn't want to impose his idea of healing onto her. He just wanted her to know that she had options now—that her body, her choices, were entirely her own.
Before he could finish, Yulia stopped walking and turned to him, her hands reaching up to cradle his face. The suddenness of her movement startled him, but before he could react, she pulled him down, her lips crashing into his.
The kiss was fierce, raw, and filled with an intensity that left him breathless. It wasn't soft or tentative like her touch had been—it was a storm, a flood of emotions that swept through him, leaving nothing untouched. Gratitude, trust, love—it was all there, pouring out of her in a way words never could.
Leonardo froze for a moment, stunned by the weight of it, before he melted into her, his hands finding her waist as he pulled her closer. Her lips moved against his with a desperation that broke something inside him and mended it all at once. He could feel her trying to piece together the shattered parts of herself, and in doing so, she was piecing him back together too.
When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against his, her breath warm and uneven. Her eyes glistened, but her gaze was steady, unflinching as it held his.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible but carrying a depth of emotion that nearly undid him.
Leonardo's hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing gently against her skin. "You don't have to thank me," he said, his voice hoarse. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Yulia. I just want you to know... you have a choice. Always."
