She’s wearing a white silk pajama set. The shorts are criminally short, riding high on those long, smooth thighs. The matching button-up top is only halfway buttoned, the thin fabric gaping open just enough to reveal a generous hint of soft, creamy cleavage. With every movement, her full breasts shift freely beneath the silk.
She’s been walking around my house like this? In front of my men? A dark, possessive irritation flares in my chest. The thought of Daniel or any of my soldiers seeing her like this enrages me.
Why the hell do I care? She’s my prisoner, yet the sight of her like this pisses me off. I’m going to rip the head off the idiot maid who picked out this pajama set. No one else should see her like this.
Her eyes find mine immediately. That familiar fire sparks in them the second she sees me.
“Good morning,” she says into the kitchen.
Lea turns with a bright smile. “Good morning, dear! Come sit. I made plenty.”
Eleonora doesn’t move. She just stares at me, arms folding across her chest, making her breasts press together in a way that tests every ounce of my control.
I grip my fork tighter. This woman is going to be the death of me.
Eleonora
I barely slept.
The night was a nightmare carousel I couldn’t get off. One moment I was watching Sienna and Domenico get dragged back by Papa’s men, the next Camilla was crying with a fresh bruise on her face while Papa screamed at her.
Then the dreams shifted… a dark-haired, whiskey-eyed, tattooed man had me pressed against the balcony again, only this time his mouth was on mine, his hands sliding under my clothes, doing filthy, unspeakable things that made me wake up flushed and aching.
I hate him for invading even my dreams.
I had just finished brushing my teeth, was splashing my face, trying to wash away the exhaustion, when a firm knock soundedon the door and Daniel walked in. He had introduced himself yesterday as my “personal security.” A nice way of saying glorified jailer.
“Good morning, Miss Caruso. You’re expected downstairs for breakfast.”
I could try begging him to help me escape. But one look at his loyal, steady eyes tells me he’d sooner die than betray Nico. So I don’t bother and follow him as he leads me to the kitchen instead of the dining room where I had dinner with Nico last night.
I’d expected to find Nico at the table, but what I didn’t expect is for him to be shirtless. And as I sit across from him trying to eat all the food piled on my plate, I can’t stop myself from staring.
I try to distract myself by taking in the kitchen. It smells incredible. Coffee, bacon, fresh bread, and something sweet like cinnamon. It’s surprisingly warm and homey for a mafia don’s mansion, unlike our kitchen at home.
Sunlight pours through large windows, gleaming off stainless steel appliances and dark wood cabinets.
I watch the older woman as she stands at the stove, stirring something in a pan. She looks like she’s in her late fifties or early sixties, short dark hair streaked with silver, wearing a simple black dress and a floral apron.
She has a no-nonsense but kind face, the type of woman who could scold you and hug you in the same breath. She must be the Lea Nico had mentioned last night.
I return my attention to my plate but my gaze drifts to Nico again, his chest and shoulders that are on full display.
Heat floods my face as memories of him pressing me against the balcony railing come flooding back, the scent of his skin, how close his mouth had come to mine.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts as Lea adds more eggs to my plate with a kind smile. “Eat up, sweetheart. You look like you need it.”
Nico’s eyes meet mine and I glare daggers at the bastard, hoping he feels every bit of my hatred. He doesn’t even acknowledge me.
Instead, he stands, thanks Lea for breakfast in that low, respectful tone he apparently saves for everyone but me, and walks out of the kitchen without a single glance in my direction.
Arrogant beast.
I pick up my fork and start eating again, mostly to keep Lea happy while I study her. She moves around the kitchen with the confidence of someone who’s been here forever. Could she help me? Does she even know I’m a prisoner? Or does she think I’m just another guest Nico brought home?
I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to watch her carefully. Make sure she won’t run off reporting to Nico when I ask for her help.
I manage to finish most of what she gave me before I lean back, patting my stomach. “Thank you, I can’t eat another bite. I swear I’ll burst.”
