Chapter 20

• •RAFFAELE MANCINI•
• The music hums low in the background, but I barely hear it over the pounding in my ears.
• Hazel kneels before me, her breath uneven, fingers working open my belt. My chest rises and falls in slow, controlled breaths, but my patience really is unraveling fast. She’s flushed, her cheeks stained pink, and I know it’s not just from the warmth in the room or the wine. It’s from me. From what we’ve been doing. From what we’re about to do.