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He doesn’t say a word for a long time. Instead, he lets me bury my pride and dignity. Finally, his voice cuts through my crying.

“Maxwell, bring the clothes to my bedroom. She’ll be trying them on in here.” The sound of his phone locking is like a gunshot through the quiet. It makes me hypersensitive, and I don’t know why.

“I will leave the clothes in here. You can try them on, then come and find me.” And then he leaves the room.

No fight? No telling me he owns me and to do what he says?

Ferro would’ve insulted me, made his snide comments, tried to guilt me and punish me with his incessant bitching, but DeLuca just forfeited.

I hear Maxwell wheeling in the clothes, and I rush to sit up and wipe away my errant tears.

“Miss, here are your clothes.”

I barely look over my shoulder and give him a soft nod. “Thank you.” He goes to leave, and I stand. Turning, I move to the clothes, when he stops.

“Miss, I know it’s not my place, and my boss would have my head if he found out I was talking to his woman in this manner, but I ask that you trust him. I know that how you came here wasn’t ideal, but he is going to protect you. Trust him.” He doesn’t even let me respond before he’s out the door.

I’m left stunned, completely shocked by his comment.

What is DeLuca protecting me from? What am I missing here?

10

DeLuca

I’m a prick.

Do I care if anyone besides Arabella thinks this of me? No. However, with her, I want her to worship me, not despise me. I want her to trust me and need me. But seeing her break like that and hearing just how unhappy she is and how poorly she was treated by Ferro… that made me weak. I want her to feel the opposite here with me. Fuck me and this goddamn mess. I want to say I regret taking the job, but if I hadn’t taken it, I wouldn’t have her, and someone else would have done the job. To know she would have been killed makes me blind with rage.

“DeLuca?” I stand when she speaks.

“Yes, principessa,” I respond, turning to find her standing in the doorway of my office. I left it open so she could find me, and I posted Maxwell outside my bedroom to make sure she came here and not to snoop around again. If what happened last night wasn’t enough to make her want to leave, then what happened a little bit ago was.

She’s standing in some blue jeans with slits in the knees and a black tight tank top with thin straps. Her hair is falling around her shoulders and collarbone, and my fuck, she looks beautiful.

“I’m sorry I reacted that way. And I do want to say thank you for the nice gesture and the clothes.”

I want to claw at my heart that is beating insanely in my chest for her, but I resist the action, knowing it’s pointless. She has control of me. Nothing will be able to stop or cure that.

“Of course, I wouldn’t deny you simple things. You will have makeup, skin care, and all the other things delivered this afternoon. We can always change what you don’t like. Were the clothes to your liking?”

“Oh, um… yes, they were great. Thank you.” She adjusts the hem of her tank, looking around my office and trying to avoid eye contact. I take a seat in my chair and get back to emails. I don’t say anything, wanting her to feel comfortable enough to enter the room. I keep my eyes focused on the computer but track her movement in my peripherals. She slowly walks in, skimming over my bookcases that take up the entire wall shared with the door. She fits here, makes my office seem homier. After she spends time perusing my books, she comes to stand next to me, lifting herself onto the desk beside me as she sits atop it. Her legs dangle over the side as she looks around.

I like this setting. Her sitting next to me like she’s lived here all along and owns the place.

“So, you said you’re a doctor. What kind?”

Smirking, I close the laptop and turn my chair toward her, doing my best not to reach out and touch her.

“I’m an oncologist.”

Her brows lift. “Hmm, a lifesaving doctor by day, who preys on women by night. Interesting. Sounds like the start of some twisted mystery novel.”

That makes me smile. This is definitely a surprise—her demeanor. She’s suddenly playful and comfortable, making me wonder if Maxwell said something to her for her to have such a change in attitude. I take advantage of it, because God knows when she will put her walls back up.

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