. . .
Date Valentino
Bringing Blue to my house had been an impulsive decision. When the man I had sent to keep her safe told me about the assassin, I found myself going to her instantly.
She was so unaware of the fire she was walking in, it was pitiful.
I walked out of my room as soon as the sun started revealing itself over the trees. I passed her door, pausing briefly.
No sound came. She had slept late, if she had managed to sleep, she'd sleep in.
I left her, instructing the guards to not let her leave. I didn't know how much she lacked survival instincts, and I didn't want her dead.
Not yet, anyway.
. . .
"Boss," he said, slowly. "She is a stain on my family name."
I leaned back in my seat, a fake show of relaxation. I couldn't remember the last time I had actually relaxed.
My office in the headquarters was large, and connected to a bedroom I stayed in more often than not.
"She is with me," I said. "I'll let you know when I'm done."
Aldo looked like he wanted to say something. He was idiotic enough to do that.
But he didn't. We finished the rest of the meeting and he left.
It was midday when I returned to my house.
I found her pacing the living room, her feet bare on the dark carpet, and her sweatshirt changed to a loose blue dress. Her hair was messy, and her eyes were red.
She paused, standing behind the couch, and she put her hands on the backrest of it. "I am your prisoner?" She demanded.
I took off my suit jacket and sat on the couch chair. I watched her as she seethed, looking seconds away from stomping her feet or throwing something on my head. Her dark eyes and skin were lit up by the sunlight coming through the transparent wall. She looked beautiful.
"Well?" She pressed.
"I don't know why you're reacting this way. I'm keeping you safe."
"This is ridiculous. This whole arrangement is ridiculous."
"Let's make this clear one more time." I stood, walking towards her. She held her ground, even when her fingers twisted together in obvious nervousness.
I stood beside her, my shadow falling on her, blocking the sun. "You leave, I will pull back my protection. We had a deal, Blue. Don't make me mad."
She gulped harshly, looking away. "Okay."
I kept my eyes on her, waiting for more. But she didn't say anything else and kept her eyes on the carpet. Blue was brave, till she wasn't.
"Are you hungry?" I asked, walking to the kitchen. She followed me, arms wrapped around her like armour.
She was finally being cautious.
"Yes," she said, simply. She watched me walk around the quiet kitchen for a while as I redied some things. "Do you know how to cook?" She asked. She needed to fill the silence. Or perhaps she was trying to make this more bearable for herself by befriending me.
"Yes," I said. "Do you?" I asked, grabbing a knife. She eyed it. I almost laughed as I chopped a few vegetables.
"No," she said awkwardly.
"Sit on the counter," I said after watching her shuffle around.
She hopped on the counter beside the fridge instantly. Just a few feet to my right.
She watched my hands, thighs interestingly pressed together. Her eyes said yes, her body said yes, yet her pretty mouth said no.
I was going to enjoy luring her to my bed.
"Aren't you going to ask why I came to Italy knowing my father's family would hurt me?" She asked after a beat of silence.
"I thought you were just an idiot," I said.
She gasped. "I-I am not an idiot!"
I hummed. "You're not going to tell me even if I ask. Just know that whatever you're running from can't hurt you in my house."
"Because I am your prisoner," she grumbled under her breath.
I walked to her, setting my hands on the counter, and caging her in. I bent my neck, looking into her dark eyes. "You can go out," I said. "With me."
She didn't say anything. Her fingers again twisted together on her lap. Another shutdown.
"Say something."
She looked at my neck, eyes caressing my tattoos. "I...wanted to ask something."
"Yes?"
"My friend is with...Sebastian Cartier," she said. "Pietro's family knows he is my friend. Can they hurt him?"
"If he is with Sebastian, they won't hurt him."
She nodded. "Okay."
. . .
"Don't touch that."
She put a finger on it, thankfully not on the graphite. "Pretty."
I took her hand, moving it away from the sketch. "You're trouble. Who the fuck asked you to drink the whole bottle?" I went to put the dishes back and found her chugging wine like beer.
And, unsurprisingly, she happened to be lightweight.
"You're an...titack."
"Architect." I set her down on my chair behind my desk. She had ventured into my office. I let her.
She folded her legs under herself. "If I open the drawers will I find guns?"
"They are locked."
She gasped. "You don't trust me."
"I don't trust anyone if that helps." I leaned against my desk, turning on a lamp that illuminated her in soft golden light. I lost my breath for a moment. My office didn't have any windows - I wasn't fond of them. So it was always dipped in darkness.
She blinked up at me. "Do you have a lock on your wine caller?"
"I do."
"That's mean."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "You shouldn't drink this much, especially when you're in an unfamiliar house with an unfamiliar man."
"You said you wouldn't touch me."
"I meant that. Not everyone does." It pissed me off - how much she put herself in danger.
"You can do anything to me even when I am sober."
I cupped the side of her face, unable to stop myself. Not many people were allowed in my home office. Not many had been here in years.
But I didn't mind her here or in my house.
"I won't touch you till you're dripping wet for me, Blue." I caressed her bottom lip as her mouth flew open in a gasp. "I won't touch you till you beg me." I removed my hand before I did something I didn't want yet - like putting two fingers in her mouth and watching her struggle.
That would come later.
For now, seeing her on my large chair with lust plastered on her face was enough.
. . . .
(6/6)
I will be updating five or more chapters at a time. It gives me more control over the story.
