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The following Saturday I was rushing around trying to finish my list for the day. I wanted the bakery open in three weeks, but that was starting to look impossible. There was so much to do. So much to figure out. Maria was amazing, and I’d given her a much-deserved day off, but I really wished she were there. As I struggled to pull things together, I’d considered whether I should turn the place over to her, but I wanted a stake in it. Reopening this place and continuing my grandparents’ legacy meant something to me.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes as I thought about how much I’d loved the days when I’d rushed to the bakery after school and my grandmother had greeted me with a hug and a cookie. Why hadn’t I appreciated that more back then? Why hadn’t I visited my grandparents more in their last years? I swiped at my eyes, probably smearing dirt all over my face. I was going to have to stop and clean up soon. Angelo—my lord and master—had texted me that since regular bakery hours would end early on a Saturday, he expected me ready and waiting for him by one.
I glanced at my watch. Shit. It was later than I’d thought. I’d barely have time to shower if I headed up now, but I was determined to fix the leaky faucet in the kitchen. I took a deep breath and picked up the wrench. I’d watched a video tutorial, and it looked like all I needed to do was tighten a bolt and I’d be good to go. I fit the wrench around it, turned the bolt, and water exploded in my face. It seemed to be shooting out everywhere. Fuck, what had I done wrong?
I panicked as I held my hands up to my face, trying to see through the fountaining water. There was a cut-off. Somewhere. But my brain had shut down.
“Reach under the sink and turn the shut-off valve.”
When I turned and saw Angelo standing in the doorway, I froze. He was early, and there was water everywhere, and I wasn’t ready, and—
He moved me out of the way, knelt in front of the sink, opened the cabinet, and turned the knob I knew was the shut-off valve. I was supposed to be a fucking genius, but I couldn’t even fix a sink.
All the stress of the last few weeks came crashing down on me, and I tried to hold them back, but tears overflowed my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. I was horrified to be crying in front of Angelo. I swiped at my face and tried to summon my anger to counter the heavy sadness.
“Are you happy now? Do you love seeing me like this? I don’t know what I’m doing, and I hate that. I hate you. I just want the bakery to be like it was, and I don’t know how to make that happen. I don’t know how to handle all this fucking shit you want from me, and—”
“Come here.” Angelo pulled me into his arms. I fought him at first, but he wouldn’t let me go. Eventually, I gave in, sagging against him. For just a moment, I let myself forget all my animosity toward him. He was warm and strong, and I felt absolutely safe being held in his arms. I hadn’t let anyone hold me like that since I was a little kid.
I expected him to berate me for not accepting Nick’s offer when I obviously needed him, but he didn’t. He just held me against his firm chest as I broke down completely, sobbing for what I’d lost. I missed my grandparents, and I was angry as fuck at my father for ignoring me and for letting the bakery go to shit like he had.
When the tears finally slowed, I pulled away from Angelo. I was sure I looked like shit. Surely, he wouldn’t want me in this state. If he just left me alone now, maybe I could pull the pieces of myself back together and finish the work I’d meant to do that day.
But he just stood there watching me, an unreadable expression on his face. So I fell back on instinct and tried to push him away. “I guess you got what you wanted. You broke me. Did you enjoy watching my meltdown?”
He didn’t stomp off like I’d hoped. He didn’t even yell. Instead, he spoke in a soft voice. “I’m not happy at all. I want your submission. I don’t want you to be miserable. I want you willing to drop to your knees before me, put your hands behind your back, and let me use you any way I want. I want you to want my dominance, to crave it.”
Didn’t he realize I already did?
