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Forced to live in close proximity, forbidden by the nature of our professional understanding to fall prey to our desires, our relationship is a delicate balance between suppressing our emotional and physical needs and giving in
to temptation.
But it’s in the basement where things really heat up.
Every time Felix walks by me, his scent overwhelms me.
The musky smokiness of his cologne is like a drug to me.
I find myself craving every inch of his body - his broad shoulders, chiseled chest, and washboard abs.
My attraction to Felix simmers and boils as I watch him move around the room, barking authoritative orders at his subordinates.
He’s different at work and at home. At home, he’s endearing, cooking meals, helping me iron my clothes, and bringing me a glass of orange juice after a heavy night of drinking.
At work, he’s impenetrable, a force of nature to be reckoned with.
My desire was getting so out of control that I headed to work this morning before he even woke.
What other choice do I have? Endure another agonizing game of touch-me-not over eggs and toast?
Hell no.
When I walk into the office, it is extremely quiet. Soon, people begin filtering in.
“Good morning,” I say as Enzo walks in. He ignores me.
In fact, he’s ignored me since the day Felix brought me in. It’s been three weeks, and he’s not warming up.
In fact, most people aren’t.
Angelo and Betty from bookkeeping are the only two people who say hello to me.
“How was your weekend?” asks Betty.
“Good, thanks,” I say, smiling sweetly at her.
She looks like she’s about to say something to me, but I soon notice her eyes flicker to a shadow behind me, and she shuts up and moves on.
I turn and see Enzo glaring at her.
The mafia is a difficult world to win trust in, and with this group, I know it won’t be easy.
Especially considering Enzo knows what I did by breaking into Felix’s computer.
But I am thankful that Felix has banned his cousin from disclosing my past escapades to anyone else.
Now bound by fealty, Enzo has no choice but to take out his distaste of me on me.
If he shares my past with anyone, I know I’d be forced out of here in no time.
Enzo scares me.
He makes my life a living hell each day. From dropping hints about the Illuminati to asking me questions about my personal life, I know he wants to learn everything about me.
He doesn’t even do it on the sly - he does it full throttle, unabashed, unashamed.
How long before he discovers Rosalie Battaglia behind this façade?
