The energy of the club was electric, but Emilia could feel the shift the moment it happened. The air grew heavier, thick with something far more dangerous than alcohol and adrenaline.
Gia, still twirling to the music, suddenly stilled. She didn't need to say anything—Emilia already knew.
He was here.
A ripple of unease spread through the crowd as the entrance doors swung open. Alessandro Bianchi didn't sneak in—he owned the space the moment he stepped inside. Dressed in all black, his sharp suit tailored to perfection, he was the kind of presence that demanded attention without a single word.
Behind him, Luciano and a few of his men flanked the entrance, scanning the club like it was an active battlefield.
Emilia clenched her jaw. Fucking men. Always ruining the fun.
"Girl, he looks pissed," Gia muttered, barely hiding her amusement.
Emilia turned back toward the bar, grabbing another shot. "Good," she muttered, downing it in one go. "Let him be."
But she could already feel him—his gaze burning into her back.
Footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate. Deadly.
The music didn't stop, but it felt like the entire club went quiet as Alessandro stepped into her space. His cologne—dark spice and something dangerously intoxicating—wrapped around her like an invisible chain.
"Are you fucking serious right now dolcezza?" His voice was low, edged with barely restrained fury.
Emilia didn't turn immediately. Instead, she let the silence stretch, savoring the tension before finally glancing over her shoulder. She smirked, tilting her head.
"About what?"
His jaw ticked. "About this—" He gestured around them, his eyes dark and unreadable. "You think you can just disappear in the middle of the night, ignore my calls, and—" He exhaled sharply, as if physically restraining himself from grabbing her right then and there.
Emilia leaned back against the bar, completely unfazed. "I didn't disappear. I went out."
His eyes flashed with something darker. "With no security. No guards. No me."
"You?" She let out a low chuckle. "Alessandro, I don't need you."
Wrong thing to say.
Because in the next second, he had closed the space between them, his palm slamming against the bar beside her, caging her in. His other hand grabbed her chin, tilting her face up to his.
His breath was hot against her lips. "Say that again."
Her pulse jumped. Her body betrayed her, reacting to the way his fingers dug into her skin, to the raw possessiveness rolling off him.
But Emilia said it anyway. So she met his gaze, smirk still intact, and whispered, "I don't need you, Bianchi."
The last thing she saw was his eyes darkening to something dangerous before his lips crashed into hers.
The kiss wasn't sweet. It wasn't gentle. It was a warning.
Alessandro crushed his mouth against hers, punishing, demanding, like he wanted to brand himself onto her soul. His grip on her chin tightened, fingers digging into her jaw as he tilted her head back, forcing her to take every ounce of his fury.
Emilia's body reacted before her mind could catch up. Her hands gripped the lapels of his suit, not pushing him away, but pulling him closer, her own rage bleeding into the kiss. She bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, but instead of pulling back, Alessandro groaned—a dark, low sound that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Fucking brat," he growled against her lips.
She smirked, lips tinged red. "Fucking psychopath."
His eyes burned as he wiped the blood from his mouth with his thumb, then licked it off like a man starved. "You drive me insane, dolcezza."
"Good."
Before he could grab her again, Gia's voice cut through the haze.
"Okay, okay, let's all take a deep breath before we turn this club into a scene."
Alessandro didn't even look at Gia. His entire focus was locked onto Emilia, as if nothing else in the world existed.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine," she muttered, pushing past him. "I was leaving anyway."
"You're coming with me," he corrected, his hand clamping around her wrist.
Emilia stilled. Slowly, she turned to look at him, her expression unreadable. "Try to drag me out of here, Bianchi, and see what happens."
He ignored her protest, and lifted her like he was carrying a big bag of rice on his shoulder then walked away with her in his arms.
She gasped, thrashing in his grip. "Put me down, you lunatic!"
Alessandro didn't even flinch. His arms were like iron around her, effortlessly carrying her through the club as if she weighed nothing.
"Shh, dolcezza" he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. "Struggle all you want. We both know how this ends."
Eyes widened, mouths parted in shock—people watched. But no one dared to stop him. Not when they recognized who he was. Not when his men trailed behind, ensuring no one interfered.
"Alessandro!" Gia snapped, stepping in front of him. "This is insane! You can't just kidnap her!"
His smirk was razor-sharp. "Watch me."
Gia turned to Emilia, eyes questioning, but Emilia's glare burned with fury.
"Don't fucking look at me—stop him!" she seethed, fists pounding against Alessandro's back.
He just laughed. Before mockingly saying.
" I won't be stopped, I think it's high time to put my seeds in my woman, who knows pregnancy might come in and that might make you finally stay".
Emilia froze.
Her breath hitched, her entire body going rigid against him. And then—
"You sick, deranged bastard!. Hey Gia you have to stop him, I'm not ready to be a mother. Call the whole army if you have to". She yelled as they disappeared outside
Gia stood there, wide-eyed, her cheeks tinted pink. "The whole army? Babe, I'm drunk, but not that drunk."
"Gia!" Emilia shrieked, kicking against Alessandro's hold.
Alessandro just laughed, completely unfazed as he carried her out of the club like she weighed nothing. "Scream all you want, dolcezza" he taunted. "No one's coming to save you."
"You're insane!" She dug her nails into his arm, twisting in his grip, but his hold only tightened.
"And you love it," he shot back, smirking.
"Like hell I do!"
Gia finally snapped out of her daze, stumbling after them in her heels. "Alessandro, put her down! You can't just—kidnap her!"
Alessandro turned, walking backward as he smirked at Gia. "Watch me."
Then, with Emilia still thrashing in his arms, he shoved open the car door and tossed her inside like a rag doll.
Emilia barely had time to sit up before Alessandro was on her.
The car door slammed shut, sealing them in. The low hum of the engine was drowned out by her own furious heartbeat.
"You psychopath!" she hissed, scrambling back against the seat. "You can't just throw me into your damn car like some kidnapped bride!"
Alessandro leaned in, his hands caging her in on either side. His smirk was infuriatingly calm. "Kidnapped bride? Hmm." He tapped his chin mockingly. "Not a bad idea."
She swung at him. He caught her wrist mid-air, his grip tightening just enough to make her breath hitch.
"You were dancing for other men," he murmured, his voice deadly soft. "Laughing. Drinking. Wearing that little dress. Do you enjoy testing my patience, dolcezza?"
Emilia glared, yanking at her wrist. "I don't belong to you."
Alessandro chuckled, dark and deep. "Oh, but you do."
With one sharp pull, he dragged her onto his lap, a position where she was straddling him.