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She looks up, a flicker of hope in her eyes. “Do you really believe that?”
“I do,” I reply firmly. “And I believe that we can overcome any shadow that our pasts cast over us. Look at you, getting your college diplomas and all that shit. Me in charge of billions in real estate alone. We’re not our parents.”
She gestures toward herself, a hint of self-consciousness in her movement. “That’s why I tend to overeat now,” she says with a self-deprecating smile, pointing at her curves. “Always worried the food might disappear again.”
I study her for a moment, my eyes tracing the delicate contours of her figure. “Emily,” I begin, my voice filled with a genuine admiration that I can no longer conceal, “you are perfect as you are.”
I lean in a little closer, lowering my voice to a more intimate tone. “In fact,” I continue, my eyes locked with hers, “I must admit, I find your curves enticing.”
Her eyes widen slightly at my bold compliment, and a shy smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “Well, that’s very sweet of you to say,” she responds, her cheeks now a deeper shade of pink.
I decide to take a daring step further, my voice soft but unwavering. “But you know,” I say, “you’d be even more perfect with the swell of a pregnant belly.”
Her eyes widen even more, a mix of surprise and intrigue in her expression.
She bites her lower lip, her gaze still locked with mine, and then she asks, “But why with me? What do I have to offer?”
I reach out to gently cup her cheek, my thumb caressing her skin. “You have yourself to offer, and that’s all I want. Money means nothing if I don’t have you. Your laughter, your warmth, your beautiful curves—I wouldn’t trade them for all the riches in the world.
“You make everything more meaningful, and I can’t help but imagine a future where we create something beautiful together.”
The door opens behind me. I don’t turn my head. “I said I wasn’t to be disturbed,” I snap.
It’s Rico. “Unless it was about Orlov,” he says, sounding serious.
I turn to look at him. “What’s the news?” I ask, bracing myself for what he might reveal.
“He’s left the country,” he reports, his eyes meeting mine. “Headed to Russia an hour ago.”
Relief washes over me at first – if Orlov is out of the country, Emily is safe, at least for now. But there’s also a nagging frustration.
He is still a threat, a loose end that needs to be tied up before I can think about our future.
“I need proof,” I say, getting to my feet. I nod toward Emily. “I’ll be back soon.”
7
EMILY
Two weeks later…
I stand by the vast window in the drawing room, looking out at the sprawling gardens that I can’t step into. The last of the daylight is slipping away.
For two weeks, he’s been busy dealing with his business, and I’ve been left to occupy myself. I see him for meals occasionally but he barely speaks to me, his mind elsewhere.
At night, I sleep alone, wondering if this is how it’ll always be? Tease me, flirt with me, then get back to work and leave me bored and alone?
The mansion, for all its opulence, feels like a gilded cage. I want air. I want space. I want to go outside. I’ve watched movies, tried to read. Taught myself chess. Supervised the arrival of my stuff from my apartment.
All without him. I’ve been writing assignments but I can’t stop thinking about him.
Did he mean it? Getting me pregnant? I pray he did. The idea of it being a joke would break my heart.
I sense Alessandro entering the room behind me. I turn to face him. “What’s wrong?” he asks, seeing the frustration in my face.
“I feel suffocated. Can I at least go into the gardens?”
“Perhaps tomorrow.” He approaches me, his expression a mix of concern and resolve. “I know this is hard, but it’s for your safety. The world outside these walls is not safe for you right now.”
