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Her features are tense with a cautious expression, and her eyes still tremble with horror and fear.
Even though my little mouse is shit scared, she lifts her chin and looks at me.
“You said I have to keep the place clean, but there are certain things I won’t be able to do for the next four weeks.”
Right. She’s still recovering.
When I just stare at her, her tongue darts out to wet her lips. She glances at the kitchen before meeting my eyes again.
“Cooking isn’t a problem. I can sit while doing most of the prep work.”
Again, I don’t answer her, but my gaze leaves hers to travel up and down her body.
Skylar starts to fidget with the skirt of her dress and eventually wraps her arms around herself in an attempt to keep still.
My eyes flick back to the TV screen, and I see the housekeeper sobbing her little heart out in the kitchen. There’s no sign of Harlan.
My gaze moves from one live stream to the next until it stops on Skylar’s empty bedroom.
I finally have the little mouse. I no longer have to watch her from a distance.
I turn my attention back to Skylar, whose breathing has sped up. Sweat beads on her forehead, and she’s back to looking pale as fuck.
“Sit,” I bark.
She darts forward and, a second later, takes a seat on the couch farthest from me.
“A nurse will continue with your follow-up checkups.” My eyes lock with Skylar’s again. “Until Bianca’s cleared you, you’ll only cook.”
I’m surprised when my little mouse is brave enough to ask, “What am I supposed to do with the rest of my time?”
The corner of my mouth lifts, and I almost let out a bark of laughter.
“You’re not here to be entertained,topolina.”
She tilts her head slightly, then asks, “What does the Italian word mean?”
A smirk forms on my face before I murmur, “Little mouse.”
Climbing to my feet, I walk closer until I’m towering over her and she has to look up at me. I bring my hand to her face and watch as she flinches when I brush a finger along the curve of her jaw.
“Have you ever seen a cat play with a mouse?” The question is a low rumble from my chest.
Skylar shakes her head, her eyes sparkling with terror.
I have to be careful because I’m actually starting to like it.
“They don’t kill the mouse instantly. They’ll torture it for hours…” my finger moves down Skylar’s neck to her racing pulse. “Taking a bite here…” I clamp my hand around her throat and only use enough force to make her gasp. “Taking a bite there…”
When I pull her to her feet by her neck, Skylar grabs hold of my wrist with both her hands, her lips parting as her breaths burst over them.
I lean in close until her terrified breaths hit my lips, then I whisper, “When the mouse finally begs for death, the cat rips its head off.”
The elevator doors open, and I let go of Skylar. Turning around, I see Carlo coming in with the shopping. Bianca follows him into the penthouse, carrying a medical bag.
“I think I got everything you asked for, boss,” Carlo says before taking the shopping to the kitchen.
“Just leave it on the island,” I order. My eyes flick to Bianca, and I say, “You can check her here in the living room.”
