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“Can you change a diaper?” Cassio asked, but his voice held an edge that suggested he knew the answer was no.
I shook my head. “I can learn.”
Cassio’s mouth thinned into a line. He changed the diaper quickly, and Daniele didn’t as much as twitch, only stubbornly stared off to the side. After that, Cassio got his son dressed. As suspected, the clothes were on the verge of being too small. Not too wide because he was thin, but definitely too short. Cassio lowered Daniele to the floor, and the boy went over to his tablet at once.
“For a while he didn’t need a diaper, then…” Cassio fell silent.
Then Gaia died.
“Is that why he’s so thin and not talking?”
Cassio swallowed and his expression hardened. “Yes. See if you can get him to eat more than a few morsels of food.”
Cassio scanned my face, his eyes lingering on my scratched cheek once more. “This was a mistake.”
Me. He meant I was a mistake because I wasn’t what he’d expected. But he and his family weren’t what I’d expected either.
So many things needed fixing in this house. Daniele, the boy with a trauma because of his mother’s death and his father’s possible involvement. Simona, who wailed the second I touched her. Loulou who’d never learned to be a family dog. And Cassio who dealt with demons I had no clue about.
Cassio rubbed his hand over his stubble then sighed. “This isn’t one of the dresses I bought for you. You can’t wear this when you meet your bodyguards.”
I glanced down. I wore black tights, a black pleated miniskirt with suspenders, and a yellow cashmere sweater. It wasn’t fancy, but certainly nice enough for a day at home. “I don’t see why I need to dress up for them.”
Cassio’s eyes flashed. “Giulia, don’t test my patience. Not right now. I didn’t marry so I’d have another stubborn child to deal with.”
Gritting my teeth against a snappy comeback, I turned around. I didn’t want to fight with Cassio, but I wouldn’t change into one of those stuck-up dresses when there was absolutely no reason to do so. I didn’t get far. An arm wrapped around my stomach and sharply pulled me back so I was pressed to a hard body. Cassio’s palm pressed flat against my belly, holding me in place as he leaned down. “You will change now.”
The low command vibrated through my body in a way that thrilled and scared me.
“What’s your problem?”
“My problem is that you keep disobeying me and that your skirt is far too short when I’m not around.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Even my mother had never considered my clothes too daring or sexy, and she was conservative. The miniskirt might be short, but the tights were opaque, and my sweater certainly didn’t scream sexy vamp.
“I’m not joking,” Cassio growled.
I laughed again. “You’re being unreasonable.”
Cassio turned me around, one arm around my waist, the other cupping the back of my head. It wasn’t an intimate, loving gesture. It was dominance. “Don’t fight me on this. Not this. I won’t have you around men in that skirt when I’m not with you. Understood?”
His eyes burned with angry possession. I probably would have said more, but the sound of Daniele’s game reminded me that he was in the room behind us.
“Understood,” I said. “Now let go of me.”
He stepped back. I turned and went into our bedroom to change.
When I came downstairs in long black dress pants and a loose-fitting blouse tucked into my waistband, Cassio gave a pleased nod. I felt as if I was wearing a costume. The clothes were uncomfortable. They weren’t me.
“My men are waiting in my office to meet you.”
“What about Simona? Where is she?”
“With Sybil in the kitchen. After I’ve introduced you to your bodyguards, you need to get Daniele down here. He can’t stay in his room all day.”
“I need to go clothes shopping. Nothing fits him.”
“Then do that. Domenico and Elia will accompany you.”
With his hand on the small of my back, he led me down the corridor to a massive wooden door. As we passed the room Loulou was locked in, she barked, causing Cassio’s expression to tighten once more.
His office offered a stunning view of the gardens, beautifully kept as if they belonged to a mansion in the English countryside and not a family home. It didn’t look as if the garden was used at all. Two men sat in wide armchairs across from a sleek oak desk. Both rose the second Cassio and I entered the room. Cassio kept his hand on my back as he motioned at the older man. “This is Domenico.” The man looked to be in his sixties with short gray hair. He looked like he’d served in the military—straight back, perfectly ironed shirt, no-nonsense expression. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Moretti.”
