Chapter 8 A KISS FOR THE CAMERA

The television studio was buzzing with tension. Lights. Powder. Producers barking countdowns. The host, Paola Ferri, a seasoned media vulture in red silk, applied one last layer of gloss before turning her camera-ready smile toward the waiting couple.

Matteo and Lucia sat side by side on the velvet couch under the hot studio lights, every inch the image of elegance and unity. His arm rested casually behind her shoulders. Her hand lay lightly on his thigh. They didn't speak-but their closeness said what the tabloids demanded: united, magnetic, untouchable.

Inside, Lucia's heart thundered. Not from nerves. From uncertainty. From the echo of the almost-kiss that still haunted her every time she closed her eyes.

Matteo looked flawless in a dark tailored suit, his watch gleaming under the lights. But his grip on her shoulder was just a bit too tight. And when he glanced at her now and then, she could feel the unspoken words crawling beneath his skin.

Paola turned to the camera. "Welcome back to Mornings in Milan. Today, we have the city's most talked-about couple: industrial tycoon Matteo De Luca and his new bride, Lucia Moretti."

Lucia smiled politely.

"We're so pleased you agreed to speak with us. The world is watching-and I think we're all wondering the same thing. Was it love at first sight?"

Matteo chuckled softly, glancing at Lucia.

"I wouldn't say love," he said smoothly. "At least not immediately. But there was... clarity. The moment I met her, I knew my life was about to change."

Paola's eyes gleamed. "And you, Lucia? What did you see in this mysterious billionaire?"

Lucia tilted her head, her voice quiet but confident. "I saw a man who hides more than he shows. But I've always been drawn to puzzles."

A ripple of laughter followed-controlled, impressed.

Paola leaned in, her tone sweet and sharp. "Some say your relationship is more business than romance. That your marriage was... strategic."

Lucia felt the trap opening beneath them.

Matteo beat her to the punch.

"Every good marriage is strategic," he said coolly. "But ours is also very real."

Lucia turned slightly toward him-he caught the movement, gently took her hand. It was smooth, natural... until his thumb brushed over her knuckles, and her breath caught.

"And how do you show that love?" Paola pressed. "Do you fight? Laugh? Kiss when no one's watching?"

A beat of silence. The room buzzed. Viewers at home leaned closer.

Lucia and Matteo looked at each other.

His eyes burned.

So did hers.

And then-

He leaned in and kissed her.

Not a polite press. Not staged.

This kiss was slow, firm, deliberate. A little dangerous. Like a man laying claim-and a woman daring him to try.

Lucia's heart skipped. Her hand clutched his lapel, not because it was planned, but because the ground shifted beneath her, and she needed something to hold.

When he finally pulled back, her lips tingled.

Paola looked stunned. So did half the control room.

"Well then," she managed. "That answers that."

Carla's Strike

The interview went viral in minutes.

Clips of the kiss splashed across headlines: "Matteo De Luca's Public Passion" and "From Peasant to Princess-Lucia Owns the Spotlight."

But behind the scenes, someone else was watching.

Carla Rossi sat in a dark office, phone in one hand, wine glass in the other. Her expression was unreadable.

She replayed the kiss again. And again. Until the jealousy curdled into something sharper.

She dialed.

"Release the file," she said coldly. "An anonymous leak. Use Lucia's full name. Attach the photo of her brother's medical records. Let the world see what the De Lucas are really hiding."

The Fallout

The storm hit by sundown.

Lucia was reading to Enzo when her phone blew up. Texts. Missed calls. Articles.

She clicked the first link-and the breath rushed out of her lungs.

"De Luca Bride Hiding Sick Brother in Secret Clinic – Questions Raised About Motives."

There was a photo-grainy but real-of her sitting beside Enzo in his hospital bed.

"No..." she whispered.

Enzo looked up, confused. "Lulu? What's wrong?"

She kissed his head quickly and ran to the hallway. Matteo was already on the phone.

"We trace it to Carla," he said into the receiver. "I want her removed from the board permanently. Illegally obtained medical data? I'll bury her."

He hung up and looked at Lucia. His jaw was locked. "She went too far."

"She used Enzo," Lucia whispered. "She made him a weapon."

He stepped toward her. "We'll handle it."

Lucia shook her head, eyes blazing. "No, Matteo. I'll handle it."

Cracks in the Ice

That night, she paced the hotel suite, rage coiling under her skin. Matteo watched from the sofa, saying nothing, letting her unravel.

"This is what your world is," she snapped. "Cameras. Lies. People like Carla using children for leverage."

He didn't flinch. "Yes. And I offered you a way out. You didn't take it."

She stopped. "Do you regret that?"

Matteo stood slowly.

"I regret a lot of things. But not marrying you."

Her chest rose and fell, heat flushing her cheeks.

"I didn't expect to feel anything," he admitted. "But I do. I see you with your brother. I see you with the board. You don't belong here, Lucia."

She blinked. "Thanks."

"You don't belong in the shadows of people like Carla," he corrected. "You belong at the top. You're stronger than all of them."

Lucia's eyes shimmered. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you to stay," he said, stepping closer. "Even when the cameras are gone."

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

"And I want to kiss you again," he added quietly. "Not for the press. Not for a headline."

He was inches away now. His hand rose, gently brushing her cheek.

"But not tonight."

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because if I kiss you now," he said, "I won't stop."