Rafe
Cecelia's message lit up my phone screen and my lips curved into a smile before I could stop them. No bra. Tiny lace thong. Fuck, she was trying to kill me. I shifted in my leather chair, adjusting myself as my cock instantly hardened at the mental image she'd so helpfully provided. Five hours since I'd left her sprawled naked across our bed, and it felt like five fucking years.
I typed back a quick response, imagining her smile when she read it. This flirtatious, playful side of Cecelia was addictive. Like everything else about her.
Setting my phone down, I leaned back in my chair and stared at the Manhattan skyline through my office window. Tonight. Our first real date. I wanted it to be perfect.
I picked up my desk phone and dialed the number the most exclusive restaurant in the city. The maître d' answered on the second ring.
"Lucien's, how may I assist you?"
"Antoine, it's Rafael de Luca."
"Mr. de Luca." His tone shifted immediately to effusive delight. "It's been too long since we've had the pleasure of your company."
"I need to make a booking for tonight. Seven o'clock."
"Tonight?" He hesitated. "I'm afraid we're fully booked, but perhaps I could—"
"I don't want a table," I interrupted. "I want the restaurant."
Another pause. "The entire restaurant, sir?"
"That's what I said. Just for my wife and me. I'll pay whatever it costs to clear your reservations for the evening. Chef Marcel can prepare his seven-course tasting menu. The wine pairings are at his discretion."
"Of course, Mr. de Luca."
"And I want the terrace set up. Candles, flowers, the works. But no roses." I remembered the stalker's dead roses and felt my jaw tighten. "Orchids, if you have them. White."
"Consider it done. We'll make the necessary arrangements with our other guests."
"Thank you, Antoine. I'll have my office call to handle the details and payment."
I hung up and turned to my laptop, pulling up the website for, Natalie de la Fuente, a famous designer. My eyes scanned through evening wear options, searching for something that would make those green eyes of hers light up.
A burgundy silk dress caught my attention—off-shoulder with a plunging neckline that would showcase her perfect tits. The kind of dress made to be peeled off slowly at the end of the night. I clicked to check availability and delivery options. Same-day delivery was possible for an extra fee. Obviously.
My phone buzzed with another text. I checked it, expecting Cecelia, but it was Liam confirming our gym session for tomorrow. I typed a quick affirmative response before returning to the dress selection.
"Mr. de Luca?"
I looked up to find Andrew hovering in my doorway, a stack of paperwork clutched to his chest like a shield. My assistant had worked for me for ten years, and he still looked perpetually terrified that I might bite his head off. Which, to be fair, I occasionally did.
"What is it?" I asked, not bothering to hide my impatience. I wanted to finish ordering Cecelia's dress before my next meeting.
"The Goldman contract revisions you requested." He took a tentative step into my office. "And your father called. Twice. He says it's urgent."
Of course he did. Ever since our confrontation about Cecelia, my father had been on a campaign to make my life as difficult as possible. Urgent probably meant he'd found another society princess for me to consider marrying instead of my actual wife.
"Since he’s the one sending me out of town, tell him I’m not available." I turned my attention back to the dress. "And leave those on the desk. I'll look at them later."
"But sir, he seemed quite—"
My phone lit up with Cecelia's name and photo, and everything else immediately became background noise. I snatched it up, already smiling as I answered.
"Missing me already?" I purred.
Instead of her laugh, I heard a scream. Her scream.
