"This afternoon, I saw the stalker." I lied—I still couldn't bring myself to tell Marco I'd been assaulted.
His face hardened, his griptightening.
"What did he look like?"
Tears streamed down my face. "I don't know. I didn't get a clear look."
"It's okay." He pulled me into his arms. "I'm here now."
His warmth was comforting, his embrace secure.
"I've already contacted my guys," Marco murmured. "They'll find out who this psycho is soon enough."
I nodded.
"Mommy! Uncle Marco!" Stella came running out, holding a storybook. "Can you both read to me?"
Marco released me and gave her a gentle smile. "Of course, little princess. Which one?"
"Sleeping Beauty!"
"Let's have dinner first, then story time, okay?"
"Okay!"
The next day, life seemed almost normal. Marco stayed in the guest room, spending the day drawing and playing games with Stella, and evenings reading on the couch. I tried to focus on work, handling the backlog of orders, but I couldn't help glancing out the windows, paranoid that the creep might reappear.
At ten that night, a new email popped into my inbox from Le Bon Marché, the upscale Paris department store. My heart raced. Three months ago, I'd submitted a design proposal to their buyer, hoping to get Stella into their jewelry and accessories section. There'd been no response since—I thought it was a lost cause.
I opened it. It was an invitation to feature in their spring collection showcase. Le Bon Marché! One of the most prestigious department stores in Paris. This meant Stella was truly breaking into the international market!
"I did it!" I whispered excitedly, clapping a hand over my mouth to avoid waking Stella.
I dashed to the living room, where Marco was lounging on the sofa with a medical journal.
"Marco!" I practically bounced over to him. "You won't believe what just happened!"
He looked up, his brown eyes widening in surprise. "What is it?"
"Le Bon Marché! The one in Paris—they want my designs! They're including Stella in their spring showcase!"
Marco stood up, a huge grin spreading across his face. "Elena, that's incredible! I knew you could do it!"
I laughed, pure joy and excitement bubbling up. For a moment, it even pushed aside thoughts of that damn stalker and the afternoon's terror.
"I need to get some sleep now," I said, as if it had just occurred to me. "I have to be sharp tomorrow—there'll be a ton of details to discuss with Paris."
Marco nodded, and we exchanged goodnights.
I headed to my bedroom and lay down, staring at the ceiling, my mind buzzing with plans for Stella. I needed more design sketches, inventory checks, to contact the artisans in Italy to speed up production... But gradually, the excitement ebbed, and exhaustion washed over me. The events of the afternoon had drained every bit of my energy. My eyelids grew heavy.
Outside, the familiar chirping of Tuscany's night insects lulled me like a hypnotic melody, drawing me into sleep.
In a drowsy haze, I felt the mattress dip as someone climbed onto the bed. My consciousness struggled at the edge of sleep. Was it Stella? She sometimes slipped into my bed after a nightmare, seeking comfort. But the weight felt wrong—too heavy.
A rough, scorching hand slid possessively over my cheek. The touch sent an electric jolt through my skin, making me flush with heat. This wasn't Stella—the masculine scent was overwhelming, suffocating. My heart pounded wildly. I tried to open my eyes, but sleep clung to me stubbornly.
Those unfamiliar hands continued boldly, sliding down my neck and roughly yanking open my nightgown. In an instant, I was completely naked, my nipples pebbling in the cool air.
