ANDREA

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, putting the finishing touches on my look for Aurora's birthday party. I'm wearing this dazzling gold mesh dress that screams, "Look at me." It clings to my every curve like a second skin, the open back and delicate straps showing off just the right amount of skin. The fringe along the hem catches the light with my slightest movement - I can already picture myself on the dance floor, shimmering like a goddess as I shake off all the bullshit from the past week.

I slip on my heels and head downstairs to meet Aurora, determined to have a good time tonight no matter what - or who - tries to drag me down. We do a couple of shots right when we get to the venue, the alcohol hitting my bloodstream with a pleasant buzz. I'm already starting to get tipsy but fuck it. I just want to let loose and forget about a certain green-eyed devil, at least for a little while.

Of course, speak of the devil, and he shall appear. I nearly choke on my cocktail as I spot Stefano across the room, looking sinfully gorgeous as always. He's rocking this simple black tee that clings to his godlike body in all the right places, paired with black slacks that I know make his ass look amazing.

But it's the accessories that catch my eye - the delicate silver chain resting against his collarbone, the stylish watch gleaming on his wrist, and the silver bracelets that clink softly with his movements. And then there are the tattoos adorning his arms, intricate designs that hint at untold stories and add to his brooding allure. Damn him for looking so good tonight of all nights.

Stefano's piercing green eyes sweep the room before locking on me. They darken as his gaze rakes over my revealing dress, his jaw clenching. A wicked grin spreads across my face. I chose this outfit precisely for the reaction it would provoke in him. As he stalks toward me, anger radiating from every line of his body, I down the rest of my cocktail and melt into the crowd. Let him stew for a bit. After the emotional whiplash he's put me through this week, a little payback is only fair.

I risk a glance over my shoulder to see if he's still in pursuit, but someone has stopped him, pulling him into a conversation. Satisfied, I lose myself in the pulsing beat of the music, my hips swaying to the rhythm. But then, I feel the weight of a familiar gaze on me, and I look up to find Stefano's mesmerizing green eyes locked on mine. Anger blazes in their depths, but I just smile, a defiant tilt to my chin. Fuck you, Stefano.

He stalks closer, his jaw clenched, never breaking eye contact. My heart pounds in my chest, a heady mix of adrenaline and anticipation coursing through my veins. I stand my ground, waiting for him, the air between us crackling with tension.

"Andrea, what the fuck are you wearing?" Stefano growls when he reaches me, his voice low and furious. A shiver runs down my spine at the way he says my name, a delicious warmth spreading through me despite my anger. God, I must be drunker than I thought.

I cross my arms, meeting his glare head-on. "A dress," I reply, my tone saccharine sweet.

"A dress? You fucking call that a dress?" he asks, incredulous. I just nod, enjoying the way his eyes flash with barely contained rage. "Doesn't even matter. We're leaving," he bites out, reaching for my hand. I jerk away before he can make contact, my skin tingling from the near touch.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," I snap, pushing him away. He doesn't budge, his body a solid wall of muscle.

"Andrea, you're drunk. You need to go home," Stefano says through gritted teeth, his patience clearly wearing thin.

I scoff. "I'm not. And even if I am, it's my own fucking decision if I want to go home or not."

Stefano's eyes narrowed dangerously. "No, it's not. Let's go before I fucking shoot the next man who looks at you."

He grabs my arm, his fingers digging into my skin, but I wrench it from his grasp. "Don't fucking touch me!" I snarl, my own anger rising to match his.

"Andrea!" Stefano growls, his chest heaving with barely contained fury. We stare each other down, the music and the crowd fading away until it's just us, locked in this battle of wills.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Ivan walking in. I shove Stefano aside, ignoring his startled curse, and rush over to greet him.

"Ivan! I'm so happy you made it." I pull him into a warm hug, admiring how effortlessly stylish he looks. His fitted grey Henley shirt highlights his muscular frame, and the three-button detail adds a rugged charm. Paired with matching trousers and a sleek watch, he exudes a polished yet laid-back vibe.

"Me too. Where's the birthday girl?" Ivan asks, his smile warm and genuine.

"Over there. Come on," I say, leading him towards Aurora. As we approach, she looks up, her eyes widening appreciatively as she takes in Ivan.

"And who do we have here?" Aurora asks, her gaze darting between us, a knowing smile playing at her lips.

"Aurora, this is Ivan. Ivan, meet Aurora," I introduce them, my own smile a little too bright, a little too brittle.

Ivan hands Aurora a beautifully wrapped box. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Aurora. This is for you."

"Thank you! It's a pleasure meeting you, too," Aurora replies, her smile widening.

As they chat, I chance a glance over my shoulder. Stefano is still standing where I left him, his eyes burning into me, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. I can practically feel the rage rolling off him in waves, but I turn away, determined to enjoy the rest of the night.

I step forward and take Ivan's hand, a mischievous smile playing at my lips. "Come on, let's dance," I say, gently tugging him towards the dance floor. The pulsing beat of the music thrums through my body as we weave through the crowd.

Once we find a spot, I throw my hands in the air, losing myself in the rhythm. Trays of drinks pass by, and I snag two, handing one to Ivan. He accepts it with a grin, his eyes sparkling in the flashing lights.

As we dance, I find myself relaxing in Ivan's presence. It's strange - I haven't known him long, but there's an ease between us, a comfort that feels both exciting and safe.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I glance around, my gaze landing on Stefano. He's staring at us, his jaw clenched, eyes smoldering with barely restrained fury. When his gaze locks with Ivan's, the temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees. But Stefano doesn't move from his spot; he just keeps glaring daggers at Ivan.

Fuck you, Stefano!

In a bold move, I turn and press my back against Ivan's front, swaying my hips to the music. I feel Ivan's hands tentatively come to rest on my waist. My body tenses for a moment at the unfamiliar touch, but I force myself to relax, determined to piss off Stefano as much as I can tonight.

But before I can even settle into the dance, Stefano is there. He grabs Ivan's wrist in a vice grip, wrenching his hand away from my body. With a rough shove, he sends Ivan stumbling back into the crowd.

"What the fuck!" Ivan curses in Russian, regaining his balance.

"Hey!" I yell, shoving at Stefano's chest. He doesn't even glance at me; his furious glare is fixed on Ivan. "Why the fuck would you do that?"

Aurora rushes over, her face pinched with worry. "Guys, please, not here. It's my birthday..."

But Stefano cuts her off, his voice low and deadly. "I'm only going to say this once." He grabs my arm in a vice grip, his fingers digging into my skin. "She is fucking mine. Not yours. Mine!"

The raw possessiveness in his tone sends a shiver down my spine, even as indignant anger rises in my throat. How dare he stake some claim on me after ignoring me all week? Ivan is unfazed by Stefano's fury, merely raising a brow in question. His calmness shocks me; any other man would have reacted differently. I'm snapped out of my daze as Stefano's hand clamps around my wrist, dragging me towards the exit.

"Fucking let me go!" I yell, struggling against his bruising grip. His fingers dig into my skin, and he only tightens his hold, his jaw clenched so hard I'm afraid he might crack a tooth.

Outside, the valet is already waiting with Stefano's car. He planned this, the bastard. "Get in," Stefano commands, finally releasing me.

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" I shout, rubbing my sore arm. I'm still caged between his seething form and the car, but I refuse to cower.

"Fuck! Andrea!" Stefano slams his fist on the hood, making me flinch.

"What, Stefano? What?" I snarl back, getting in his face. If he wants a fight, I'll give him one.

"You knew what you were doing in there," he accuses. "Do you like seeing me like this?"

I bark out a harsh laugh. "Do I like seeing you like this? You haven't seen shit yet!" He'll regret ever toying with my heart by the time I'm done.

Stefano crowds into my space until we're nose to nose, his breath hot on my face. "I haven't seen shit? I swear to God, Andrea, if you think I'd let the next man live who dares touch you like that fucking bastard did, then you don't know me at all."

I arch a brow in challenge, crossing my arms. "Is that so?"

"Try me," he grits out, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

Reckless defiance surges through my veins. "Move," I demand, shoving his chest. To my surprise, he steps back, his eyes never leaving me.

I flag down a passing valet, a plan already forming.

"Excuse me, I think there's something caught in my dress. Could you check for me?" I make a show of twisting around.

Stefano lets out a feral growl but doesn't interfere. The valet looks between us nervously, clearly sensing the danger.

But he steps forward to help me anyway. "Um, sure," he says. I feel his fingers brush my skin - and then a gunshot cracks through the air. I spin around to see Stefano, arm extended, gun smoking in his hand.

"What the fuck, Stefano?" I scream, my ears ringing.

"The next one goes in his head," Stefano says, terrifyingly calm. "Just because I let that bastard inside live doesn't mean shit. He's alive because you would hate me. Know this."

I glance back at the valet. A dark stain spreads across the front of his pants as he trembles in shock and fear. Tears begin to fill my eyes as I stare at him. Stefano is so possessive that he would shoot this random guy, but he won't even fucking kiss me. Why am I cursed to like someone like this?

"Andrea is everything...?" Stefano reaches for me, but I jerk back as if burned. Wordlessly, I climb into the car, slamming the door and fixing my gaze out the window.

Stefano slides into the driver's seat. I can feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to look at him. He says nothing as he pulls away from the curb.

The whole way home, I stare out the window, silent tears streaming down my cheeks. I don't even try to hide them, letting the cool glass fog with my shuddering breaths. My mind is a whirlwind of emotions - anger, hurt, confusion, the stubborn remnants of longing. I feel like I'm going to burst from the pressure of it all.