I let my eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his closeness.
“Don’t you dare.” He teases my ear with his teeth.
Dear God, this man.
I push him away, more for my own sanity than anything else. “I’ll be fine. Does this have anything to do with the rat?”
“Actually, no. I need to settle a few things in South Africa,” he admits, a careless hand running through his hair. “I’d invite you, but you’d likely be stuck on a plane the whole time.”
“A private one?” I give him a conspiratorial look.
“That we would share with many of my men,” he says as he shoots me down. “Unless you like a few spectators?”
I grimace. “Pass. Any update on Claudio?”
He shakes his head tiredly. “Nothing. It’s becoming…an issue. I’ll let you know if anything changes when I get back.”
I give him a disbelieving look. Despite our previous discussions, he hasn’t told me anything about his plans so far.
“I mean it,” he reiterates, seemingly reading my expression.
“Whatever you say.”
I go to stand up, but Rocco reaches for my hand.
“I will see you in a few days.”
To my surprise, he lifts my knuckles to his lips and kisses them softly.
It’s such a tender gesture I can almost feel myself melt at the touch.
“Try not to miss me too much,” I manage to reply before turning on my heel and walking away before I do something stupid like beg him to take me anyway.
Or kiss him.
The next day starts the same as any other. However, knowing that Rocco won’t return that evening already sets a sour tone.
It’s not until I leave the bathroom that I decide to check my phone.
As usual, there are about a hundred notifications from Mia. But something else catches my eye.
One New Message. Claudio Lazzaro.
My heart begins to thump wildly in my chest. It must be almost a month since the day he signed me away to Rocco. This entire time, I haven’t heard a thing from him. No message of remorse, no goading email calling me a slut.
Not even the pile of personal items he’d promised to send over.
With a shaking hand, I unlock my phone and read it.
“This is shit, Cas. I want to see you.”
A glance at the timestamp tells me everything I need to know about how sober he was when he messaged.
I think about ignoring it, letting him stew in the realization that he’d fucked up for as long as possible. He deserves it, after all.
But…
But Rocco doesn’t have any other leads. He hasn’t been able to get anything out of him so far, and we’re already a third of the way through our time together.
