Chapter 43
Layla’s POV
A few days blurred past in a grueling wave of long corporate meetings, constant phone calls, and late-night paperwork.
Mateo had been exceptionally busy, working around the clock to settle business deals and iron out logistics.
We barely saw each other—our explosive encounters reduced to fleeting glances over the breakfast table in the morning, and half the time, he was already gone before I even made it downstairs.
I missed him so much it felt like an actual physical ache in my chest.
I missed the heavy scent of his expensive cologne, the bruising grip of his large hands on my hips, and the way his pitch-black eyes burned with possessive hunger whenever he had me cornered.
I was hopelessly, dangerously addicted to him. Now, it was Saturday morning.
I lay
