It’s been four years of staying away, being patient, proving to her that I can control myself, and she still flinches when I say her name. How strong do I have to be? How much restraint do I have to show before I convince her that I won’t lock her in a wardrobe again? I’m smarter now, and I won’t lose it and panic the moment I feel her pull away. I’ll remember to be the kind of man she wants me to be. Protective, not threatening. Thoughtful, not violent. I’ll be good.
I’ve done everything she asked. Watched from afar while she lived her life without me. When I have her in my arms again—and I will, Iwill—I’ll make sure she feels safe. I know I can make her trust me as long as she never sees me lose control again. I’ll prove to her that I’m not the monster she remembers.
And if I slip? If the mask cracks?
I’ll just have to make sure there’s nowhere left for her to run.
No. No. I won’t think like that.
I’ll be good.
A hand lands on my arm. Manicured nails. I’m suffocated by perfume that’s overpoweringly sweet.
“Cristiano? Did you hear what I said? I’m sick of this dive. We can all go to my place.”
I look at the hand. Then at the girl attached to it. Valerie. Or maybe Vanessa. I can’t remember. None of them are Mina.
But whatsheshould remember is not to fucking touch me. She did this in front of Mina in the restaurant earlier, and I wanted to strangle her.
I flick my gaze up to hers, and the words she was about to say die in her throat.
“Sorry.” She snatches her hand back like I’ve scalded her. “I just— Sorry.”
Mina needs to see me among friends so she believes I’m normal, well-adjusted, and I’ve moved on without her, but my patience is rapidly running out with these people.
I turn to find Tony.
He’s laughing with the guys about something, gesturing broadly, completely oblivious. Of course he is. He knocked Mina to the ground and scattered her belongings across a dirty floor because he’s so careless, when he knows she’s the whole goddamn reason we come here.
“Tony.”
He turns, grinning. “Hey, man, are we all going to Val—”
I grab him by the collar and shove him against the wall.
The grin vanishes. His eyes go wide with shock, then fear. “Cristiano?”
“Didn’t I tell you never to talk to her?” My voice is deadly quiet. “Any of you?”
“I didn’t talk to her.” Tony’s voice pitches higher. “I just bumped into her. It was an accident.”
“You knocked her down. You scattered her things across the floor. You made her kneel on that dirty fucking floor in front of everyone while you walked away.”
“I—I panicked. I thought you didn’t want me talking to her, otherwise I would have helped her, I swear.”
I tighten my grip on his collar, pulling him closer. “You shouldn’t have been near her in the first place.”
Tony’s face is white now. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay? It won’t happen again.”
“No,” I agree. “It won’t.”
I hold him there for a moment longer, letting the fear sink in. Then I release him and step back.
Tony sags against the wall, rubbing the back of his neck. The others are frozen, watching us with wide eyes. The girls have stopped whispering. Tony looks like he wants to be anywhere else.
“Let me make this clear once more,” I say, addressing all of them. “Mina Santoro is off-limits. You don’t talk to her. You don’t touch her. You don’t look at her. If you see her coming, you get out of her way. Am I understood?”
A chorus of nods. Murmured agreements. They don’t understand. I can see the confusion in their eyes. Why do I care so much about the housekeeper’s daughter? What is she to me?
