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“If you had told me sooner, I would have been there to rescue you sooner,” he closes the distance and places a hand on my shoulder, “I wondered where you went after the scandal broke out,” his hand on my shoulder begins to move tenderly, up and down my arm. “I'm just glad you know that I'm your best bet and that we belong together,” he moves his hand up to cup my face and I move back.
“Carlos,” I chuckle nervously, “We belong together?” I scoff, “That's not what this is about, right?” Because I'm not about to trade a madman for a rogue.
He snorts, “Have your bath and be ready for our first public entrance,” he dips his hands into his pockets.
What is it with me and getting the worst of men spun my way?
I pinch the brink of my nose, “Carlos if you brought me here just to have me as your mistress…”
“Lover, not mistress,” he corrects.
Potato, fuckingpotato.
“Carlos, I didn't leave Boston to end up in the same setting.”
He closes the distance a little too fast before I can move further away and wraps his arms firmly around my waist.
“I will take care of you, Rose, you know you are safe with me, and I can give you everything money can buy,” one hand comes up to stroke my cheek. “Just be good,” he lowers his head and is about to kiss me, but I wriggle out of his hold.
“I am not…” I begin to say but he is quick to close in on me and covers my mouth with his, forcing his tongue past my lips.
I hit his crotch with my knee and he staggers back, then takes both hands there as he winces in pain. A typical example of a wolf in sheep's clothing. No wonder he likes white. It gives him the illusion that he is a saint. Sick bastard.
“You are sick,” I stomp to the elevator and type quickly into the elevator, then jump in.
“Rose,” he groans and starts to come after me.
My heart begins to hammer as he moves towards me, but the elevator shuts him out. I sink, releasing a long-held breath.
Then it hits me.
I'm in New York, alone.
Oh, god.
I lean against the steel wall of the elevator and slide to the floor in a crouched position.
I need help. I can't be alone in New York. Surely a friend will help me in person, but the only way to get my circle of friends is to go to Romano and Giada’s wedding. How do I do that alone?
I puff out my breath, trying to think of any possible way out of this. If it had been a few months ago, I would have flirted with Carlos and gotten him to get me the help I needed and then disposed of him. But something changed. I no longer want to see my body as a tool.
It feels wrong. There's a difference between what he was doing and what Benedetto does and I know now that the difference is that I like one and I detest the other.
Shame on me, but still.
The elevator opens and my heart sinks.
I'm alone.
Chapter Seventeen
BENEDETTO
“What’s the plan?” Orazio leans in on the coffee-brown sofa in my room and puffs the blunt I wrapped up for him.
“I'll be attending the wedding,” I shrug.
He snorts, “Amore, you know I'm not asking about the wedding.”
