As I pushed through the stairwell door, Valentina's words echoed in my head. I pressed a hand against my mouth, stifling a sob. What had I gotten myself into? And more terrifyingly, despite everything, despite the warnings and the humiliation and the complications I couldn’t afford and probably didn’t understand, why did part of me already long to be back in Dario's arms?
When I reached the main floor, I peaked out of the door, hoping no one would be around. It was early and most of the staff didn’t come in until at least noon. I crept out, holding my breath. No one. Not even a whisper from the high roller suites or the lounge. Relief and shame mixed in my chest, swirling together until I almost gasped. The smart thing would have been to run for it. Just keep my head down, never look back.
Except my legs wouldn’t move. I stood just inside the door, my hand pressed to the frame so hard my knuckles ached. God, what had I been thinking? Dario was Dario. Untouchable. And I was—
Well, I was disposable. I’d always been disposable, hadn’t I?
My eyes burned. I rubbed at them, cursing under my breath. Not here. I was not going to fucking fall apart here.
I sucked in a breath and hurried for the staff entrance, ducked into the bathroom, and locked the door behind me. I pressed my back to the door. Just stood there for a long second, breathing hard, clutching my bag to my chest like it could somehow shield me from the humiliation burning inside me. I let the bag fall to the floor and slid down the wall until my ass hit cold tile, knees drawn up, forehead pressed to them.
And then I lost it.
Silent sobs wracked my body, shaking me so hard my teeth clacked. For a minute all I could do was gulp air. It wasn’t just Valentina’s words. It was everything. The shame, the feel of Dario’s hands on me still echoing along my skin, the way I’d wanted to crawl right back into that bed with him and beg for more, even after all the ugly stuff she’d thrown my way because I couldn’t say she was lying. God, what was wrong with me?
Tears streamed down my face and I wiped them away with the heel of my hand. A whimper escaped me as I fought for control.
Valentina had looked right through me. Like I was nothing. Less than nothing. Anger sparked beneath the misery. Not a bonfire, but enough to keep me from drowning in self-pity, but I wasn’t going to let her, or anyone else, see me like this.
A few ragged breaths and I managed to get it together. Eyes burning, but no more tears, at least not for now. I rinsed my face and dried with a hand towel. If I looked like an after hours train wreck, so be it. I’d always been a survivor, not a debutante.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and forced myself up. No one lurked outside the door so I slipped past the empty stock room,then ducked through the staff entrance, keeping my head down and my hair in my face.
But, just like Dario said, the car was waiting for me anyway. A sleek black sedan idled at the curb, engine purring. Marcus Longmire stood beside the open back door. Aviators. No expression. Not even a hint of judgment in his stance. Just doing his job. Just another day, another awkward walk of shame for the boss’s newest mistake.
I hesitated on the stoop. Everything in my body screamed no. I wanted to turn and bolt for the subway. Like hell I’d let Dario “take care of me” after that mess upstairs. But Marcus gave a slow shake of his head, a clear warning not to defy the boss. I really, really didn’t want to get in that car. Every instinct screamed at me to run for it, hop the subway, disappear into the morning like a coward. But Marcus just stood there next to the open back door, all patience and dead-eyed calm, and something in his face told me there’d be consequences if I tried to bolt.
I sucked in a breath and took the first step toward the car. Marcus just waited. He held out his hand to help me in, but I shied away, not wanting to touch anyone, least of all anyone from this place. He sighed, but said nothing as he shut the door and moved around to the driver’s side to slid behind the wheel.
“You’re not gonna say it?” My voice shook, and I hated how small it sounded. “No lecture for the poor dumb girl who fucked the boss?”
“Hey,” Mr. Longmire said, looking at me in the rear view mirror. “Take a breath and hold it. You need to calm down and listen to me for a moment, OK?” I closed my eyes and took that breath he instructed me to take. Then I took a couple more. When I opened my eyes, Mr. Longmire gave me a small smile through the mirror. “Good job, Belle. Good job.” He sighed. “You OK?”
“Sure.” I tried to smile, but my voice cracked. “Just peachy. Will you tell me how much trouble I’m in?”
“You’re not in trouble, Belle. But you have to understand, things are going to change for you now. You have to have protection or Dario will look weak.”
“But, no one knows about us except…” I trailed off, closing my eyes as two tears escaped. “Valentina.”
“I’m afraid so, but trust Dario to keep you safe.”
“Yeah,” I muttered looking out the window. “Wouldn’t want to ruin his reputation for a fucking mistake.” I sounded as bitter as I felt and I didn’t want to feel that way. I knew going in what horrible judgement I had but kept on running headlong into the fire.
“You’re not a mistake, Belle.” Mr. Longmire’s gaze flicked to the mirror, calm and unreadable. “Dario doesn’t do mistakes. He’s put you in this position for a reason.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I swallowed hard. “Am I gonna get eaten alive, Mr. Longmire?”
His lips twitched. “Marcus. And only if you stop fighting.” He pulled away from the curb and took off through the city. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re the perfect choice.”
“Perfect choice for what?”
What Marcus said next chilled me to the fucking bone. “To be the most powerful member of the Luca family.”
Chapter Thirteen
Dario
I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel, checking my watch for the third time in as many minutes. The staff entrance ofThe Grayremained stubbornly closed, the alley empty save for the stray cat prowling between dumpsters. My patience had worn thin two hours ago. Since Valentina's unwelcome appearance at my penthouse that morning, Belle had avoided my calls and ignored my messages. Sending Marcus would have been more efficient, but this needed a personal touch. I needed to see her face when I told her she was moving into Villa Luca. Tonight. No arguments, no discussion. Her safety wasn't negotiable, and Vincent Rossi's sudden interest made the clock tick faster than I liked.
