“You’re absolutely right,” I say quietly. “It’s none of my business. Just like I’m none of yours. I’m just the help, just here to help Emmanuel for the rest of the month and then disappear from your lives. I’m nobody.”
“Chloe, that’s not what I meant.”
“Forget it.” I turn to the door and move, as fast as my legs will take me, throwing the last of my venom over my shoulder as I make my escape. “Congratulations again. I’ll be out of here in no time, and you can go back to your perfect life.”
“Don’t you walk away from me!” His voice is sharp, commanding. The Don, not the man who touched me last night. My spine snaps straight, and I stop, but I don’t turn to face him, because something in his tone reminds me of Delan.
“I don’t believe there’s anything left to be said, Mr. Cierro.”
The way I address him so formally cuts through the air like a knife.
“What you just heard, you are to forget. You are not to breathe a word of this to anyone outside of this room. It’s not important, and it’s certainly not something you should concern yourself with. You understand?”
It’s a dismissal as much as a question. Dismissing every ounce of what is between us.Not important.
I turn to face him, tipping my head up, and ensuring my expression is perfectly blank. “Of course. How silly of me to think it mattered. I’ll be sure to stick to my job from now on — spend my time solely with Emmanuel. Nothing further.”
“That’s not what I meant —”
“Isn’t it?” I meet his eyes, refusing to let him see how hurt I am. How desperately I’m trying not to cry. “You’ve made it very clear. This is your business, absolutely none of mine. I’ve overstepped. Message received, Mr. Cierro.”
“Would you stop calling me that? You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“Am I? Because it sounds like you’re planning a marriage with someone else while making me believe that there is something real building between us. While telling me you want me in yourbed. Forgive me for being confused about where I fit in this equation.”
He huffs out a frustrated breath. “You’re being dramatic.”
“And you’re being an asshole.” The words are out before I can take them back, and my hand flies to my mouth, eyes widening. I can’t believe I just said that.
Omero clears his throat, standing and skirting around me. “I should … give you two some privacy.”
He doesn’t wait for Basili’s permission, slipping out the door and closing it behind himself with an audible click. And then it’s just Basili and me, the air between us tense.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says again, his voice becoming low and dangerous.
“Then please, explain it to me.” I take a step toward him, crossing my arms across my chest, my hands clenching at my sides. “Explain how you can have your hands all over me one night and be planning a wedding to another woman the next.”
“That’s not what I was —”
“Then what is it, Basili?” Another step. I want him so badly to deny it, to say I’d heard wrong. “Because from where I’m standing, that’s exactly what it looks like. That's all I am, a convenient distraction. Someone to pass the time with.”
He moves forward then, closing the distance between us in three long strides. Now, we’re toe to toe, close enough that I can see the muscle jumping in his jaw, close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him.
But he doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t reach for me like he’s done before.
“You think that’s all you are? A distraction?” His voice is barely more than a whisper, rough and raspy. “You think I would touch you the way I did, kiss you the way I did, if you meant nothing to me?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore.” My voice cracks as I look up into his eyes, despite my best effort to keep it steady. “You tell me I’m different. That you want me, all of me. And then I find out you’re negotiating a marriage —”
“Chloe, you’re everything I want. That’s not a lie, I promise you it’s not.” His jaw clenches, he’s fighting with the words. “You’re complicated and infuriating, and you’re standing here accusing me of things you don’t understand —”
“Then make me understand!”
“I can’t!” The words explode from him. “You want honesty from me, but you won’t give it in return. You won’t even tell me who you really are! Where you came from, and what you’re running from.”
“That’s not fair. It’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it?” He’s even closer now, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “You heard half a conversation and jumped to conclusions. You didn’t ask. You didn’t wait. You just assumed the worst and came in here ready to burn the house down.”
