You entered the understated and elegant lobby of Ignazio's apartment building and checked in with the front desk. Ignazio had you on his approved list, a gesture that meant so much to you since his home was his sanctuary, a place he allowed few visitors to see. He once said that you were the only lover he'd ever entertained there and the only person—aside from his household staff—who had a key.
As you rode the elevator up to his apartment, you could only imagine what the front desk staffer had thought of you, considering that you almost certainly revealed dark circles and reddened eyes from crying.
You exited into the small marbled foyer and unlocked the double-door entrance to usher you inside. Lights that were activated by your movements came on when you entered the expansive living room and headed down the hall to the master bedroom.
As you kicked off your heels and moved into the bathroom, you felt the adrenaline from your flight burn away. You took your time in the shower and did some serious thinking about what had just happened at the benefit gala.
Magdalena definitely had feelings for Ignazio. For years and years, apparently.
However, according to both Mariagrazia and Gianluca you had nothing to worry about, because supposedly the exotic blonde and your man were never a thing. But it didn't mean she didn't want to. The fact that she had just pulled her claws out meant she was still clearly into him.
And what was all that talk about Ignazio being somewhere fucking someone else during the gala? Was it just a coincidence that he'd dropped out of sight for a good while and all Magdalena wanted was to stir up drama, insecurity and jealousy? That bitch.
And what could she possibly have meant when she said you were "done" the minute Ignazio "shoved his dick" in you?
God, I hate her guts.
With your hair towel-dried after the shower, you closed the curtains in the bedroom, then moved into the living room and did the same there, plunging the room into darkness. Then you settled on the sofa, sprawled across the cushions and turned on the living room television, feeling exhausted and wrung out.
You drifted in and out of consciousness, plagued by anxiety. At some point, you looked at the screen of your phone, noting that it was almost 3 a.m. You tried not to think about why Ignazio still wasn't home.
"(Y/N)."
Ignazio's voice and the feel of his hands on you pulled you from sleep. Blinking, you scrubbed at your gritty eyes and found him sitting right beside you, the heat of his hand warming your hip. His warmth was welcome, chasing away the chill that had brought goose bumps to your skin. But then you remembered the torment of the past few hours.
Your eyes closed on a deep breath and it took every bit of your willpower not to succumb to the urge to lean into him, touch him and kiss him.
What time had he finally come home?
Ignazio was quiet for a long while, just giving you the comfort of having him close. You waited for him to say what was on his mind.
"(Y/N)," he said finally, his voice somber, his fingers caressing the length of your silk-clad arm. "I can't stand you being unhappy. Talk to me."
You shifted and sat up, putting some distance between the two of you. A million questions and speculations roared through your mind as you took one of the cushions and gripped it tighter.
"It hurts when you pull away from me," he kept on.
WTF? You frowned in confusion and faced him, startled.
YOU ARE READING
SHADES OF LOVE
ChickLit~Sequel to Boschetto's Fifty Shades Darker~ Little did you know that the mysterious and intense man who had swept you off your feet since day one, making you feel you were the light in his life, was a well-known figure in his home country and abroad...
