Dead Flower

Chapter 8

I was just getting ready for work, early in the morning before I heard a knock on my front door. I was taken aback and surprised at this because I didn’t have any friends and there would be no reason that I can think of where someone would knock on my door. I held my breath, running through different scenarios in my mind when the thought of my parents being on the other side of the door chilled me to the bone. I became frightened because if it was them then I would have no option but to go back home and I don’t want to. 

I pushed aside my fear with the realisation that my father was overseas and he wouldn’t be back for some time because if there’s one thing about my father is that his work comes first. He will never let a business opportunity slip through his fingers, not if he could help it. Greed is a scary thing in the world that I’m from which is why I want nothing to do with that world. 

I straightened up in front of the mirror as I gave myself a cute smile like I always do whenever I look in the mirror. I looked at the tamed curls that were still sitting in place but would definitely not be in just a few hours. My hair reached just below my chin and my mum had given me a bob with my hair that framed my delicate face in a flattering manner. I was wearing a short floral dress with bell sleeves and a plunging neckline. The dress reached midthigh and my small breasts were fully covered by the material of the dress and you could only see the shimmer of the colour of my skin instead of cleavage in the dress. The dress was a light material and breathable but stylish at the same time. I wore it with a pair of brown wedge heels and a Lily behind my ear. 

I was already done getting ready for the day so I would just head out after speaking to whoever was at my door. I twirled around and skipped to the door before I opened it with a wide smile before my eyes widened and my eyebrows raised as I looked at who stood on the other side of my door, “Mr Bianchi?” I said his name in surprise and in question because I didn’t expect to see him here. 

I wondered if there was maybe an appointment we had set or if he was in need of my services. After that I wondered how he found my house, but then again I was the only black person in this entire town so I’m sure he didn’t have to look hard enough. 

The surprise wore off fast and a wide smile spread across my face because this was my biggest client and they seemed to have a lot of money to spend. “Mr Bianchi,” this time it wasn’t filled with the kind of “is this you?” surprise but the “it’s so great to see you” type of surprise. 

Mr Bianchi was the complete opposite of me and of anyone I’ve ever met in my life. There was just something about this man that chilled me to the core and let me know not to cross the line with him. Maybe it was the hard black eyes that could cut through me or how he seemed to be the tallest human I’ve come across. Okay, maybe that’s a bit of a stretch, I’ve been to plenty basketball games and I’ve seen plenty of tall men. But it was different with Mr Bianchi, his height brought a sense of dread, as though if his shadow touched you, you just happened to be too close. 

His lips barely lifted into a smile, rather he extended his hand for me to accept. I didn’t want to touch him because I didn’t want to be sucked into whatever he had sucked me into the first time that I touched him. There were a million alarms going off in my head that reminded of the very first time I let Mr Bianchi touch me and I had to ignore everyone of them because I couldn’t risk ruining future client relations and I couldn’t be rude and not let him greet me. 

So with a dimpled smile, I placed my tiny hand in his and just like before, his hand swallowed mine and I was once again under his control as he looked right into my eyes as though promising me that I would never leave. 

“Please,” his voice was just as chilling as his presence. His voice had a thick Italian accent to it, but such that it didn’t sound sexy but threatening. It was a deep velvety voice with a huskiness to it that caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand. It was rough, as though he spends his time smoking too many cigarettes and drinking too much whisky. “call me Gregorio.”

I cleared my throat, trying to break free from his gaze but I couldn’t because it was too strong. I was surprised as to how I could still talk in the presence of such a man, “what can I help you with, Gregorio?” I asked him. 

“Marigold,” the way he said my name made my smile widen and I saw his eyes flash to my lips to see the smile before the left corner of his lip twitched slightly, “would you do me the honour of having breakfast with me?” 

He seemed to have come at the right time because I was just going to have fruits for breakfast before making my way to the grocery store and then to the shop. I wanted to say no to his offer because I didn’t want to get involved with any man especially Gregorio Bianchi. I didn’t know him and honestly, I didn’t want to. But a big part of me was putty in his hands and I found myself nodding my head yes to his invite. 

He brought my hand to the crook of his arm before he stepped back for me to step out of the house and follow alongside him. I moved like a zombie, like my mind was being controlled as I closed the door behind me and didn’t even bother to lock it or get my side bag. I just let Gregorio lead me to wherever he wanted to lead me. 

Right at the gate of my cottage like house were three black Range Rovers. I was familiar with such a structure but when I travelled it was usually with just two cars. My parents were obsessed with keeping me safe and they didn’t care to spend money on an unnecessary security team. When I was allowed to leave, it was only with the security team that had to make sure nothing happened to me. 

Seeing these cars reminded me again just why I didn’t want to go back to that life and how I didn’t want to be involved with a man like Gregorio but it’s with men like this that every bit of common sense goes flying out the window. So instead of turning around and declining his offer, I smiled at one of Gregorio’s chauffeurs as he held the door open for me to climb into the car. 

I struggled to get inside the car before I felt a warm pair of big manly hands on my waist, lift me up and into the Range Rover with black leather seats. Something tells me that Gregorio’s favourite colour is black because everything in his home is black and I can only assume that everything he owns is also black. 

I blushed but quickly shifted to accommodate his entrance as I looked around the all black interior of the car. It smelled very strongly of Gregorio’s cologne which was unlike anything any one has worn before. It was a strong musk smell infused with a smell of nature and…I really can’t explain what his scent is like but it’s overpowering like his very existence. 

When the door closed behind Gregorio, I shyly looked at him as he adjusted the black cuffs on his sleeves. He was wearing a black suit that fit on his body like suits were only made for him to wear. He wore a black turtle neck underneath and he had a single gold chain around his neck that was very visible against his black clothing. It was the only colour that he wore on him because even his shoes were a shiny black and his long hair was combed back. His hair touched the lower nape of his neck and as I was checking him out from head to toe, I noticed that he had his ear pierced. I wasn’t sure about the other ear because I couldn’t see it but I’ve never thought that an earring piercing on a man could have me more attracted to him but I was. 

He met my eyes then, his eyes looking at me from head to toe, not even hiding his gaze as he looked at the plunging neckline on my dress. I felt shy under his gaze as I gathered my hands on my lap before I cleared my throat. 

“Do you always dress in this manner, Marigold?” he broke the momentary silence in the car. Judging from his flat tone, that doesn’t change an octave no matter what he says, I wondered if the way I dressed upset or made him happy. 

Either way, I didn’t want it to bother me because I could wear what I want. “Yes.” I smiled at him. 

He hummed in response, “that needs to change immediately.”

“Uh…excuse me?” I asked in confusion because I was surprised by his words. He looked at me as though what he said didn’t need to be repeated, “why?” 

He simply reached for the flower behind my ear before he readjusted it. His eyes then met mine again and even though his expression was as blank as it had been this whole morning, I felt afraid and threatened, “don’t ever question me again, fiore.”