I rest my hand on my chin, staring blankly at the resume of the tenth applicant for the position of my secretary. Exhaustion weighs heavily on me, each interview blending into the next in a monotonous blur. I had no idea the process would be this draining. Every candidate who's walked through that door so far has fallen short of what I need or simply doesn't fit.

Santiago was with me earlier, but he left, leaving me to face the last interview of the day alone. The thought of asking one more person why they deserve this job makes me want to crawl under my desk and hide.

My phone pings with a message just as the next candidate walks in. I gesture for them to take a seat while I quickly reply to Santiago, but I pause as a familiar voice calls my name.

I lift my head, brows furrowed in confusion. "Emily? What are you doing here?" The words tumble out before I can stop them, shock coloring my tone.

She lifts her CV, waving it at me with a nervous smile, and realization dawns. She's actually here for the job interview. A pang of confusion hits me as I wonder why she didn't just call me if she needed work. But knowing Emily, I'm not entirely surprised. She probably didn't realize I was the one conducting the interviews and wouldn't have wanted to get the job just because she's friends with the owner's daughter.

"What happened?" I ask, recalling our conversation before her flight. "You were on a work-paid vacation."

Emily's smile falters slightly. "Yeah, I was, but I quit. I'm searching for something with better pay."

"To help with your mom's bills?" I ask gently, and she nods, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her face.

"How much is it again?" The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, my mind already racing with ways to help.

"I'm not telling you," Emily says firmly, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Why?" I ask, chuckling despite myself.

"Knowing you, I have a good idea why you're asking, and I don't want to owe you," she says, and I can't believe she's already seen through my plan.

"You'll make it back working for me," I counter, a mischievous glint in my eye.

Emily's eyes widened. "Working for you? I got the job?" The shock in her voice is almost comical.

"Of course you do. Do you really think I would hire anyone else right now?" I say, unable to keep the smile from spreading across my face.

"Thank you so much, Andrea," Emily exclaims, pulling me into an awkward hug across the table. The genuine gratitude in her voice warms my heart.

"You're welcome," I reply, even as my mind races with how I'm going to break the news to Santiago that I just hired his ex-girlfriend. The potential drama of the situation is already making me smile.

"Uhmm..." Emily starts, pulling back from the hug. There's a hesitancy in her voice that makes me tense. "I wanted to ask you something."

"I'm listening," I say, bracing myself for whatever's coming.

"Did you give your brother my phone number?"

The question catches me off guard. "Yes, I did," I admit, guilt creeping into my voice. "I totally forgot to tell you. I hope you aren't angry about it."

Emily's expression is unreadable. "I'm not angry. I just wish you had asked me first. I wasn't really looking forward to speaking to him ever again."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. "Oh, I'm truly sorry," I say, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. "I didn't think too deeply into it."

But that's not true. I knew exactly what I was doing. I know their breakup was bad and that Emily probably wanted nothing to do with Santiago. But I love my brother, and I want to see him happy. I know he still has feelings for her, and a part of me hopes they can work out their problems.

"No problem, it's fine," Emily says, but I can see the tension in her shoulders. "I just wanted to know where he got my number from."

"I'm sorry again," I offer weakly, feeling a little like the worst friend in the world.

"It's okay," Emily says, but her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. We wrap up the interview, and I head home to break the news to Santiago.

The entire drive I cycled through various scenarios on how to break the news to him, but each time, I came up empty. Taking a deep breath, I call out, "Santiago?"

"In the kitchen," he replies, his voice echoing through the house.

As I enter the kitchen, the hoppy aroma of beer fills my nostrils. Santiago is leaning against the counter, a bottle in hand, looking relaxed but tired. "Hey, sorry I couldn't make it back to help with the interviews," he says, running a hand through his hair. "Got caught up with something."

"It's fine," I wave it off, trying to appear nonchalant. I grab a beer from the fridge and take a sip, the cold liquid refreshing my throat. "So..." I begin, the words suddenly sticking in my mouth.

Santiago's eyes narrow, reading me like an open book. "Spit it out, Andrea," he says, his tone a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

"So, I hired someone," I blurt out, wincing at my own awkwardness.

"Great!" He says, taking a swig of his beer, oblivious to my internal struggle.

"But..." I hesitate, the weight of it pressing down on me.

Before I can continue, Santiago interrupts, his voice casual but with an undercurrent of tension. "Before you continue whatever the fuck you were about to say, I wanted to ask if you've spoken to Emily lately."

My eyes widen in shock, my heart skipping a beat. Of all the questions he could have asked, why this one? "I have," I reply cautiously, studying his face for any clues. "Why are you asking?"

"No reason," he shrugs, but I can see right through his facade.

"Really?" I press, raising an eyebrow. "You know, if you want to talk to her, you could simply call her. You have her number now."

Santiago's expression darkens. "Not if she blocked me."

"Oh," I say, surprised but not entirely shocked. After our earlier conversation, I hadn't sensed Emily would go that far, but then again, there's clearly more to their story than I know.

"Do you want me to speak to her about it?" I offer hesitantly. "Explain that you just want to return her stuff?"

Santiago's laugh is bitter, tinged with a hint of his 'made man' persona. "No need. It's not like she could hide from me. It's nice to let her think she can." He drains his beer bottle in one long gulp, the action speaking volumes about his emotional state.

I huff and roll my eyes at his bravado, but beneath it, I can sense the pain he's trying to mask. "Did she ever find out what we are?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

"No," he says, his voice softening. "But I planned to tell her before we broke up."

The admission hangs in the air between us, heavy with unspoken emotion. "You loved her that much?" I say softly, the realization hitting me anew. Emily truly was the only woman he ever loved.

Santiago sighs deeply, reaching for another beer from the fridge. "I fucking did," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. Before I can press further, he turns and leaves the kitchen, his shoulders slumped under the weight of his confession.

I watch him go, my heart aching for my brother. The love between him and Emily had been real, powerful, and now it was nothing but ashes. I wish they could resolve whatever happened between them because they were amazing together, and I couldn't imagine either of them being with someone else.

My phone pings with a new message from Ivan confirming our cats' spa dates. A bittersweet smile tugs at my lips. Ivan is such a lovely friend, and I still can't believe he flew all the way to Miami because he missed me. Meanwhile, that asshole Stefano hasn't even sent a simple "hello." I sigh, my body slumping against the kitchen counter. Sometimes, I wish I didn't feel anything for him. Here I am, missing him terribly every day while he's in Italy, going about his life as if I don't exist.

I run my hand through my hair and push off the counter, forcing myself to focus. Now isn't the time to be dwelling on Stefano. I need to get ready to meet Ivan at the cat spa. After a quick shower and change of clothes, I head out with Fiona.

The spa's soothing atmosphere envelops me as I walk in, spotting Ivan already there with his British Shorthair, Emma.

"Hello, Andrea," Ivan says, standing to embrace me.

"How are you doing?" I ask, returning the hug.

"Seeing you today has made my day, krasivyy," Ivan says, his smile warm. "And you?"

"I'm doing fine," I reply, dropping off Fiona with the spa staff as Ivan does the same with Emma. We settle into the waiting area, sipping complimentary coffee.

"So, when are you heading back to Sicily?" I ask, still marveling at the odds that both men in my life are based in the same place.

"Tomorrow," Ivan says, his expression turning serious.

"So soon?" I pout, genuinely enjoying his company.

"Yeah, and Andrea," he reaches for my hand across the table, his gaze intense. "I want to ask you something."

My heart skips a beat. "What would you like to ask me?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?" The question stuns me, hanging in the air between us.

"No, I don't," I finally manage, feeling a little queasy under his scrutiny.

"That's wonderful," Ivan says, licking his lips and grasping my other hand. "Please, say yes to the next question I'm about to ask."

I hold my breath, both dreading and anticipating his words. "Which is?"

Before Ivan can continue, a loud sneeze interrupts us. I turn, the words "Bless you" dying on my lips as I see the last person I expected.

"She won't be fucking saying yes to that damn question of yours," Stefano's baritone Italian accent fills the room, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Stefano, what are you doing here?" I shoot out of my chair, my heart pounding.

He opens his mouth to speak but sneezes again. "I send you back home, and this is what you fucking do?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, taken aback.

"Doesn't even fucking matter. Come with me!" He reaches for my hand, but I pull away.

"I'm not going anywhere until you explain yourself," I counter. "Besides, you don't even know what he was going to ask."

Stefano sneezes again, and suddenly, it hits me. "Are you allergic? What the hell are you doing in here?"

"How else will I fucking drag you out?" he growls, pulling me towards him.

"I told you I'm not leaving if you don't—" My words are cut off as Stefano sweeps me off my feet, draping me over his shoulder.

"Stefano!" I exclaim, unable to believe his audacity.

Outside, he sets me down, caging me between his body and the car. "Samuel, get her cat and send it back home," he barks to his driver.

"Why the hell did you just do that?" I demand, my anger rising.

"I'm trying to protect you," he says, his eyes blazing.

"Protect me from what? A good friend?"

"He's not who you think he is. I don't trust him."

"You don't trust him, or you're fucking worried he'll take me away from you?" I challenge.

Stefano's eyebrow arches. "You think I'm worried he'll take you away from me?" He leans in close, his lips brushing my ear. "Oh, luce del sole, no one can take you from me. You're fucking mine."

A shiver runs down my spine as his green eyes pierce my soul. "Now get in the fucking car. We have a plane to catch."

Before I can protest, he pushes me into the backseat, sliding in beside me. The doors lock automatically.

"Plane? What are you talking about?" I ask, my heart racing.

"Since I need you to stop going out with that asshole, I'm keeping you by my side. You're coming with me to Sicily."

"No, I'm not," I say, even as a thrill runs through me.

"But you are," he says, his expression dead serious.

"Are you kidnapping me because you don't want me to date Ivan?"

Stefano's eyes darken, a dangerous glint flashing in them as he leans in close. His voice is low and intense when he speaks. "Kidnapping implies you don't want to be here, luce del sole. But we both know that's not true, is it?" His fingers brush my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. "As for Ivan, let's just say I don't share what's mine. And make no mistake, Andrea - you are mine."

My heart skips a beat. "Stefano, this is wrong. You can't just take me to Sicily."

"I can and I will," he replies, his voice low and intense, a hint of possessiveness coloring his words. "So I advise you to call your family and let them know you're on your way to Sicily."

I stare at him, stunned by his audacity. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Dead serious," he says, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch.

I take a deep, shaky breath, my mind racing to find a way out of this. But even as I scramble for an excuse, a part of me knows it's futile. When Stefano sets his mind to something, nothing can stand in his way.

Then it hits me - a lifeline in the midst of this madness. "Fine," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll go with you, but only because Aurora's birthday is coming up soon. I can't miss that."

A flicker of something - relief? Triumph? - passes over Stefano's face before he schools his expression back to neutral. "Of course," he says smoothly. "We wouldn't want to disappoint my sister, would we?"

"No, we won't," I agree, but inside, I'm reeling. My heart pounds against my ribcage as a dizzying mix of anger and anticipation swirls through me. Stefano's methods may be high-handed and infuriating, but beneath the outrage, a traitorous thrill unfurls in my chest.

He wouldn't go to all this trouble if he didn't care for me if his feelings for me didn't run deeper than friendship. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, even as I try to tamp down the spark of hope flickering to life in my heart.

As the car speeds through the night, the city lights blurring past the windows, I can't help but wonder what lies ahead. My mind spins with possibilities, desire warring with trepidation.

Will this impromptu trip be the catalyst that finally forces us to confront this thing between us? Will I leave Sicily as something more than what we are now?

I chance a glance at Stefano's profile, his jaw set in determination, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. In the shadowed confines of the car, the air feels charged, heavy with unspoken words and pent-up longing.

Despite the lingering anger simmering in my veins, I can't deny the thrill of anticipation humming through me. Because deep down, in a hidden corner of my heart, I know that this is what I've been waiting for - a chance to finally take that next step with Stefano, to explore the depths of what we could be.

And as the car hurtles towards the airport, towards an unknown future, I find myself hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, we're finally ready to take that leap.