“Good,” Felix said, still staring daggers at him. “Next time, call me if you need something.”
Cosimo gave a small, nod. “Understood,” he said. His voice changed back to the same, easy tone we were talking in when we first met. “Nice to meet you, ‘just Tessa.’”
I forced a tight-lipped smile, letting him have the last word, but my stomach still churned from the encounter. Despite his calm demeanor, I couldn’t shake the memory of Felix’s glare,the intensity in his eyes, and the way the room had practically vibrated with his protective rage.
After I heard the door click, I dared a glance at Felix. A vein pulsed at his temple, stark against his skin, each throb a silent testament to the fury simmering just beneath the surface. His jaw was tight, and the tension in his shoulders made him look like a coiled spring, ready to snap. Even now, with Cosimo gone, the room still felt charged with the aftermath of his rage.
“Did he do anything to you?” Felix’s voice was sharp, every word laced with barely contained fury. His eyes locked onto mine, searching, demanding the truth.
“N-no,” I said, my words barely above a whisper.
“I don’t like people touching what is mine.” He stalked toward me, every movement deliberate, like a predator circling its prey. My heart pounding in my chest, and I instinctively took a small step back, though I didn’t move far.
Then his hand was cradling my face, his thumb brushing lightly along my jaw, tracing the line of my cheek. It wasn’t gentle. It was possessive, claiming, and it sent a shiver down my spine. I froze, caught between fear and the strange, infuriating pull of knowing he was entirely in control.
What is his?!My mind raced, heart hammering against my ribs. I was just his maid, at best. I barely belonged in this house, barely mattered, and yet here he was, his thumb lingering against my jaw, eyes blazing like fire, claiming me in a way that made my stomach twist.
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” he murmured, his voice like velvet over steel. His eyes held mine, the fury in them softening into something that made my breath catch.
I felt my chest tighten, a mix of fear, relief, and something I didn’t dare name swirling inside me. This wasn’t just anger; it was an unyielding, possessive protection, the kind that left no room for argument. And I had no idea why Felix felt it for me.
I opened my mouth, unsure of what to say, but no words came. How could I explain that I was just a maid, that I wasn’t anything special, anything worth this intensity? My hands fidgeted at my sides, and I realized I was acutely aware of every movement he made, every flicker of his gaze, as if I had to anticipate it just to keep myself safe.
Then, he closed the distance without warning. His hand moved from my jaw to the back of my neck, tilting my head ever so slightly, and his lips crashed against mine with a force that left no room for denial. The kiss was demanding, possessive, a claim. It wasn’t soft or questioning, but full of certainty and intent.
His body pressed close, leaving no space between us, and I could feel the rigid tension in him, the same coiled energy that had terrified Cosimo just minutes before. Every inch of him was focused on me, as if daring the world to challenge what was his. My heart pounded wildly, caught between shock, fear, and the dizzying pull of being claimed so completely by someone I trusted but still barely understood.
Felix’s hands snaked their way under my shirt, rough palms grazing the curve of my waist. Heat seared through me, my body trembling under the weight of his claim. His mouth was crushing, demanding, as if he wanted to stamp me with his possession.
And then—just as abruptly—he tore himself away. His breath was ragged, his eyes dark, his chest rising and falling as though he’d barely stopped himself from going further.
For a heartbeat, I thought he might kiss me again. Instead, he straightened, his expression flattening into cool indifference, like nothing had just happened.
“Get back to cleaning.”
Chapter 14
Tessa
My hands were still shaking as I scrubbed at the same goddamn spot on the counter for the third time. The sting of his words—Get back to cleaning—burned hotter than the kiss itself. Who the hell did he think he was, ordering me around like one of his men?
I should have slapped him. I should have told him to go to hell. Instead, I’d just stood there, lips swollen, heart pounding, like some pathetic idiot who didn’t know whether to scream at him or drag him back.
The worst part? I liked it. Every brutal second of it.
And that infuriated me most of all.
Because how could I want a man who kissed like he owned me, then tossed me aside like I was just another piece of furniture cluttering up his perfect world? My lips still tingled from the rough press of his, my skin hot where his hands had been undermy shirt. I hated that my body remembered him when my pride begged me to forget.
I slammed the rag down on the counter and dragged in a sharp breath, trying to exorcise the ghost of him clinging to me. This wasn’t attraction—it was manipulation. A claim. A warning.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
The slam of a car door outside cut through my spiraling thoughts. I stiffened, heart lurching when heavy footsteps echoed up the front walk. Of course it was him.
Felix filled the doorway like nothing had happened, his expression unreadable, that same cool control wrapped around him like armor. He didn’t look at me—thank God—but instead jerked his chin toward the street.
“Dumpster’s here,” he said flatly. “I had one ordered for you.”
