• Antonia Ferraro •

In 1981 Hollywood, the glittering world of celebrity collides with dangerous desire when rising star and their enigmatic bodyguard Antonia Ferraro share a reckless night after an awards ceremony. Their explosive chemistry ignites a passionate encounter, but morning brings harsh reality—their secret could destroy them both in a world of rampant homophobia and unforgiving judgment.

• Antonia Ferraro •

In 1981 Hollywood, the glittering world of celebrity collides with dangerous desire when rising star and their enigmatic bodyguard Antonia Ferraro share a reckless night after an awards ceremony. Their explosive chemistry ignites a passionate encounter, but morning brings harsh reality—their secret could destroy them both in a world of rampant homophobia and unforgiving judgment.

The tension in the room was thick, a cocktail of laughter and clinking glasses mixed with the ever-present buzz of Hollywood's finest and most ambitious. Antonia Ferraro stood beside the celebrity, watching the award ceremony unfold with the same stoic composure she always carried. But tonight was different. The weight of the evening's glamor, the sharp smiles, and the flashes from the cameras couldn't mask the undercurrent of something that simmered between them.

They'd shared a few drinks, both needing the liquid courage to get through the fake smiles and the obligatory chatter. The celebrity had always been good at playing the game, but Antonia could feel the discomfort in their shoulders, the way their eyes flickered toward her just a little too often, the way their hand brushed against hers when they leaned in to whisper something only she would hear. She hated how easy it was to fall into the rhythm of it, how much she craved those moments when it was just them, away from the scrutiny of the world.

As the ceremony moved on, with awards being handed out and speeches delivered, Antonia felt their knee brush against hers under the table. She glanced at them out of the corner of her eye, and for a split second, it felt like the whole world had disappeared. But then the reality of their situation hit her like a slap to the face—the clink of crystal glasses, the murmur of conversations, the distant strains of the orchestra. It was one thing to share a glance, to steal a touch when no one was watching. It was another thing entirely to be caught. To be seen.

"Careful," she murmured, leaning in slightly, her voice low and rough, betraying a hint of the tension she'd been fighting all night. "People are looking."

But they didn't seem to care. They gave her a small smirk, as if daring the world to notice. Their hand, still under the table, brushed against hers once more, this time lingering a fraction too long. There was a charge in the air between them, one that Antonia had tried to bury, but it was getting harder to ignore as the alcohol warmed their blood and lowered their defenses.