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“Come with me,” I say. As we walk away from the stage, leaving behind the opulence and the predatory stares of the auction hall, I sense the shift in her demeanor. She’s not just afraid of the situation.
She’s afraid ofme.
Once we’re settled in the backseat of my car, I see weariness etched into her features.
“You can relax now, dolcezza mia. Nothing’s going to happen,” I tell her, my voice low, attempting to bridge the distance that the auction has placed between us.
“I don’t get paid if nothing happens,” she snaps, her eyes filled with tears. “That was made very clear.”
“I’ll tell Vincent I took your virginity. If money is all you care about, I’m happy to provide it. But I understand why you did this. Your family needed the money, or else...”
She cuts me off, a hint of steel in her voice. “Or we’d be dead. Yes, that’s the size of it. I didn’t have a choice.” Her words are laced with a resignation that tugs at something deep within me.
I nod, acknowledging her stark reality. “I know this isn’t how you wanted things to go. But from here on out, you’re safe. I’ll make sure of it.”
“You mean you’re not going to force me to do anything?” She sounds surprised, and is there a hint of disappointment in her tone?
“You look exhausted. You will sleep at mine tonight. Tomorrow, your family will be paid as arranged.”
* * *
I lead Amelia into the sprawling expanse of my penthouse, guiding her through the luxurious living area, past art pieces and furnishings that speak of wealth and taste.
Her disinterest in palpable; her focus, like mine, is elsewhere.
Stopping at the door of the guest room, I turn to her, meeting her gaze.
“This will be your room,” I say, opening the door to reveal an elegantly appointed space. “You have no further obligations to me tonight. I will not disturb you.”
The look she gives me is complex, a mixture of gratitude and disbelief. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice carrying a weight that words alone can’t convey.
“I’ve never forced myself on a woman,” I say as she lingers in the doorway. “That’s for men like Delaney. If you want me, I’m in the next room. Goodnight, Amelia.”
For a moment, I’m tempted to say more. But I hold back, recognizing that what she needs most is space and silence, a chance to process the whirlwind of events that have uprooted her life.
“Goodnight,” she says. The door closes softly behind her.
* * *
I consider hanging around in my room, but the thought of nothing more than a wall between me and Amelia is too much to handle.
Retreating to the gym along the corridor, I seek refuge in physical exertion, an attempt to quell the storm of emotions Amelia’s vulnerability and bravery have awakened in me.
Each lift, each strike against the punching bag is a battle, not just against the physical form before me, but against the desires and responsibilities that weigh heavily on my conscience.
I have to protect her, shield her from the harsh realities of my world and the darkness that lurks within me.
My original plan was to offer her a deal: carry my baby, and I’ll pay handsomely. But now she’s here, I don’t want to let her go.
It’s not right. She’s innocent and pure, not a mafia princess. A civilian. Half my age. Everything about this is wrong, but I can’t stop thinking how good life would be if I kept her.
As I finish my workout, the silence of the penthouse feels more oppressive than comforting, a stark reminder of the distance between us and the secrets that lie in wait.
Despite the physical exhaustion, my mind races, caught in the dichotomy of my desires and my duty to protect her innocence.
I shower, the hot water a futile attempt to wash away the tension that clings to me.
Driven by a paranoid need to reassure myself of her safety, I find myself outside her door, wrapped only in my towel. I ease it open and peer into the darkness.
