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“Think we can fight this shit all we want, Josie, but there isn’t going to be any denying it,” I told her as I released her, then turned and walked out of the room.

And right into my damn bathroom.

Because I needed to pull myself together before I walked back out into my party.

It took longer than it should have.

But a couple of minutes later, I walked back down the hall, sure I was going to see her somewhere, that either my aunt or Milo were going to snag her, make sure she didn’t run off without eating. Which, in my family, was practically fucking sacrilegious.

She was nowhere to be seen.

I mean, not that I could blame her.

Yeah, the situation wasn’t the best for me. But, clearly, it was worse for her. She was the one who worked for me. She was the one who was blackmailing me.

Some part of her likely thought she’d somehow lost the upper hand by letting me under her skirt, somehow forgetting that she had all the power in that situation, that she got what she needed, and I was left unsatisfied.

I doubt she would see it that way.

Which was why she’d fled.

And as much as I didn’t like that, I had to understand.

So I went ahead and enjoyed the rest of my party.

And then once everyone was gone, I didn’t pause to start cleaning up the mess.

No.

I walked right down the hall to the spare bedroom to access my laptop, signing in to my work computer, and going through the employee records.

It was there I found her number.

And it was then that I decided to text her.

I tried to tell her it was because I wanted her to have my number in case of an emergency. And maybe that was a part of it.

But I wasn’t fooling myself.

I just wanted her to have access to me.

And me to her.

You need to have my number in case you need it for any reason. To report more stalkers. Or to let me know you are heading over to finish what we started. - Matteo

CHAPTER TEN

Josie

Did I obsess over that text message?

Yes, yes I did.

But even more so than that, I obsessed over the events in his bedroom.

What choice did I really have?

Not only was it more action than I’d seen in more time than I cared to admit, but it was good.

God, was it good.

Everything about Matteo was cool, confident, and practiced.

I was a puddle of need in his hands.

I mean, I literally dreamed about sleeping with him. And I never dreamed about real people. It was always weird, faceless nobodies in my dreams. But Matteo’s face was there. As well as all of his other body parts.

Ugh.

I needed to stop.

I’d already had a session with a battery-operated device twice the morning after to try to shake the cloud of desire hanging around me. It barely took the edge off.

And, what, I was just supposed to go to work and pass him during the day and pretend I wasn’t seconds away from going into his office and demanding he take me?

Yes. Yes, that was exactly what I needed to do.

Because I couldn’t let anything like that happen again.

I could excuse one moment of insanity.

But there was no way to claim two incidents as an accident.

Decision made, I went back into my bedroom after my coffee and stripped out of the pencil skirt and sweater I’d put on, slipping on my ugliest, all-white granny panties and a pair of loose-fitting slacks.

No one was going up my skirt that day.

No way, no how.

It was all for nothing, though, because while I did catch sight of Matteo walking down the hall at one point, the day proved busier than usual thanks to two separate clients coming in wanting to plan parties with only a month’s notice for each.

I tried to remind myself that I was thankful to be busy, to keep distracted, and to have more chances to prove my worth to the company.

But there were moments—more than I cared to admit—where my mind wandered, where my thoughts were on a man who I had no business thinking about.

I mean, even if we could look past the whole mafia thing—and that was a big if—there was the whole blackmail thing.

I would have to lose my sight entirely not to see all the red flags.

I couldn’t seem to reason with my libido about the whole thing, but I just had to keep my rational mind about me.

And avoid being alone with Matteo except on the short visit to his office on Monday mornings.

Easy peasy.

“Josie, babe,” Cara said, popping into the office I shared with one of the other girls in the building. “Do you mind locking up tonight?” she asked, wincing at me. “My middle one has the stomach plague. I need to get home ASAP because the ex-hole decided he can’t be a dad to a sick kid,” she said, sighing hard.

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