The following morning, I wake up with a big smile on my face. Gently, I slip out from under Stefano's arm and get up. I pick up his shirt, inhaling his delicious scent before putting it on and padding to the small kitchenette in his hotel suite. The view of the ocean from the window is breathtaking in the morning light, the sun casting a golden glow across the waves.

I check the fridge and cupboards, finding ingredients for pancakes based on the recipe I found online. As I mix the batter, adding a touch of vanilla and cinnamon for extra flavor, I hum softly to myself. I really hope it comes out well because I've always been a horrible cook.

Just as I'm pouring the batter into the pan, strong arms wrap around my waist.

"Buongiorno, Luce del Sole," Stefano murmurs, his lips brushing my cheek.

"Good morning," I reply, smiling as I lean back into his embrace.

"Why aren't you in bed?" he asks, his voice still husky with sleep.

"I wanted to surprise you with breakfast," I explain, gesturing to the pancakes sizzling in the pan.

"I don't need food as long as I have you," he says, nibbling on my ear as his hands wander under the shirt I'm wearing. "You look amazing in my shirt," he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. "Too bad I have to take it off you."

He spins me around, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss that makes my knees weak. Before I know it, I'm perched on the kitchen counter, Stefano standing between my legs.

"Stefano," I moan as his lips trail fire across my skin. Memories of last night flash through my mind, but I'm jolted back to reality by the acrid smell of burning pancakes. "Oh my God!" I gasp, pushing Stefano away and scrambling to turn off the stove.

I stare forlornly at the charred remains of what was supposed to be our breakfast. "You ruined our meal," I accuse, trying to hide my amusement.

Stefano's eyes widen in mock innocence. "Me? I didn't do anything," he protests, failing to suppress a grin.

"It's entirely your fault," I insist, waving my spatula at him.

He chuckles, moving closer. "I think we're both at fault here. After all, it takes two to tango," he says, his voice low and teasing.

I feel my resolve weakening, but I stand my ground. "Stay away from me," I warn, fighting a smile. "Don't come near me until I'm done. You're too distracting, and I'm starving."

Stefano holds up his hands in surrender. "I promise I won't touch you until you're finished," he says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. As he steps away, he can't resist poking my stomach playfully.

"Stefano!" I giggle, swatting at his hand.

"Now I promise," he says, grinning as he retreats to a safe distance.

With Stefano's hands and kisses no longer derailing my efforts, I try to whip up a decent breakfast for us both, but it ends up coming out horrible. Stefano chuckles and gently asks me to leave the cooking to him. He then shows off his skills, effortlessly preparing our meal. The air fills with the aroma of fresh coffee and perfectly golden pancakes, a much more appetizing scent than our earlier mishap.

As we eat, I gather my courage to ask Stefano about dinner with my mom. My heart flutters nervously as I search for the right words.

"So, I've been meaning to ask you something..." I begin, biting my lip. The weight of the question makes me feel uncharacteristically shy.

Stefano looks up, his green eyes warm with affection. "What is it, amore?"

My heart skips a beat at the endearment. Did he have to call me "love" right now? It only intensifies the butterflies in my stomach.

Taking a deep breath, I plunge ahead. "Are you open to having dinner with my mom next weekend?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. I hold my breath, waiting for his response.

"Sure, why not? It's been a while since I saw Aunt Rosalia," Stefano replies casually, his attention returning to his plate. He seems oblivious to the turmoil churning inside me.

I place my hand over his, drawing his gaze back to me. "Not like that, Stefano. As..." I hesitate, suddenly unsure. We haven't officially defined our relationship yet, and I don't want to presume.

"As what, amore?" he asks, his eyes searching mine. I watch as understanding slowly dawns in their depths. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Of course, luce del sole. I'd love to meet your mom as your boyfriend."

Joy bubbles up inside me, and I can't contain my grin. "I'll let Mom know," I say, reaching for my phone. As I type out the message, I feel Stefano's lips brush my forehead in a tender kiss.

Looking up at him, I'm struck by the depth of my feelings. It's a warmth that spreads through my chest, a connection I've never felt before. I have a feeling it will only grow stronger with each passing day, blossoming into something beautiful beyond words.

***

It's been a few days since my amazing date with Stefano, and the memory of it still brings a smile to my face. However, that happiness is tempered by worry over Emily's plans to break my brother's heart. I'm not in support of her scheme, but I feel powerless to stop her.

I'm sitting at a small table in the restaurant, waiting for Emily to arrive. The place is bustling with the lunch crowd, the clinking of cutlery and murmur of conversations creating a lively backdrop. Delicious aromas waft from the kitchen, making my stomach growl impatiently.

Glancing at my watch for the third time in as many minutes, I wonder why Emily is running late. The restaurant isn't far from our office, and punctuality is usually one of her strong suits. As I wait, my mind drifts back to the conversation where Emily revealed her intentions. The hurt in her eyes, the bitterness in her voice - it was clear that the wounds from her relationship with Santiago run deep. While I understand her pain, I can't help but worry that her quest for revenge will only lead to more heartache for everyone involved.

The chime of the door opening catches my attention. I look up and spot Emily walking into the restaurant, her steps hurried as she weaves between tables. Relief washes over me—I'm starving, and her tardiness had me worried.

"Hello, Boss," Emily greets me with a small smile as she slides into her seat.

I roll my eyes good-naturedly. "Em, how many times do I have to tell you? You can call me Andrea outside the office." Despite the disappointment of not getting the COO position, I still have a few projects that Santiago, who strongly disagrees with our father's decision, has asked me to continue handling. His belief in me is the only reason I haven't walked away yet.

I actually planned to resign from the company to free myself from my father's constant undermining. But Santiago, ever the voice of reason and support, insisted I stay. "Quitting would just give him what he wants," he had said, his eyes full of conviction. "If you truly want to work here, do it for yourself. Don't give a damn about whether Dad approves or not."

His words had struck a chord with me. So here I am, still fighting to prove my worth, trying to balance my love for the company with the hurt from my father's betrayal.

"I know, but 'Boss' has grown on me since you vetoed 'Ma'am,'" she teases.

We fall into our usual banter, the familiarity of it easing some of the tension I've felt since our last conversation about Santiago. As we peruse the menus, Emily's eyes widen at the prices.

"Andrea, this place is way out of my budget with all my bills," she says, her voice tinged with worry.

I wave off her concern. "Don't worry, lunch is on me today. Consider it a perk of having such an amazing boss," I add with a wink.

Emily's shoulders relax, but I can still see a shadow in her eyes. "You're the best," she says, but her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"So, what held you up?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

Emily's expression tightens almost imperceptibly. "I was talking to Santiago. It took longer than expected."

My heart skips a beat at the mention of my brother's name. "Oh? What about?"

"I told him to take his money back," Emily says, her voice carefully neutral. "He refused, of course."

"I'm not surprised," I murmur, studying her face.

"I also told him I'd think about forgiving him," she adds, and I can't hide my shock.

"Really? You would?"

A bitter smile twists Emily's lips. "No, I won't. It's all part of the plan."

I feel a knot form in my stomach. "Em, I know you're set on this, but-"

"I know you're against it because he's your brother," she cuts me off. "But I'm still doing it."

I sigh, recognizing the stubborn set of her jaw. "I'm not trying to stop you. Just... be careful, okay?"

To change the subject, I ask about how Emily and Santiago first got together - a story I've never heard, despite becoming friends with Emily when she started dating my brother.

Emily recounts their meet-cute at the coffee shop where she used to work; I watch her closely. Despite her words of hatred, I catch a glimmer of something else in her eyes - a softness, quickly masked, as she recalls their early friendship. She even discreetly wipes away a tear, thinking I haven't noticed.

It's clear that beneath her anger and plans for revenge, Emily's feelings for Santiago run deep. The realization makes my heart ache for both of them. I wish I could find a way to heal the hurt between them, but I know this is something they'll have to work through themselves - if they ever can.

As Emily abruptly changes the subject to ordering food, I can't help but wonder how this tangled situation will play out. I just hope that in the end, both Emily and Santiago can find peace - whether together or apart.

***

I'm so exhausted from work that I can't wait to collapse into bed in Stefano's hotel room. After a quick shower to wash away the day's stress, I slip into one of his shirts and burrow under the covers. Stefano's out handling business but should be back soon.

Just as I'm drifting off, I feel gentle fingers stroking my hair. I groan softly, blinking my eyes open to see Stefano sitting beside me. A sleepy smile tugs at my lips as he leans down to press a soft kiss there.

"Hey," I murmur, stretching languidly.

"Hello, amore," he says, his voice warm. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I just got into bed." I sit up, the covers pooling around my waist. "How was your day?"

"Good. I had lunch with your brother," Stefano replies, and I feel my eyes narrow instinctively.

"And what did you talk about?" I ask, already anticipating where this conversation might go.

Stefano takes a breath, his expression turning serious. "I know it's not my business, but have you considered that Santiago might genuinely love Emily and regret his past actions?"

I sigh, adjusting my position to face him fully. "I believed that once until I found out what he did."

"What he did was terrible," Stefano acknowledges, "but it's been years. He wouldn't be pursuing Emily now if he wasn't remorseful."

I chew my lip, considering his words. "I know, but... Emily said something about rich men that's made me doubt his sincerity."

Stefano's brow furrows. "Rich men? What does money have to do with this?"

I explain Emily's theory about wealthy men pursuing women who initially reject them just to prove they can have anyone. I also mention the added layer of possessiveness that comes with Santiago being a made man.

Stefano listens thoughtfully, then nods. "Emily's not entirely wrong. There are men like that. But I don't think that's the case with your brother."

"Why do you say that?"

"He already had her once," Stefano points out. "Men who chase women just to prove a point don't usually go after them twice."

I mull this over. Stefano makes some valid points, but even if I can forgive Santiago, I'm not sure Emily will. My anger stems from what he did to my friend, while Emily's pain runs much deeper.

"Do you really believe Santiago is sincere about his feelings for Emily?" I ask, searching Stefano's face.

"Yes, I do," he says without hesitation.

I let out a soft "Hmm," still not entirely convinced but feeling my resolve waver slightly. The situation is complex, and I realize that navigating it will require careful consideration of everyone's feelings - not just my own protective instincts for Emily.