Page 125 of Brutal Heir

“Buongiorno, Sebastian. Not yet. I’m still looking.”

It had become our morning routine these last two weeks.

Each morning, I woke up determined to wear my own clothes.

And each morning, I gave in and wore one of the beautiful designer outfits Sebastian had purchased for me.

Today’s outfit was a Giorgio Armani Milano Stitch Midi Dress in midnight black, paired with a luxurious Valentino gray-and-white wild-print coat.

Although my ideas had won over Florian and his team, as well as the marketing department, whispers and glares from the rest of the staff persisted.

To them, I was nothing more than gossip fodder.

Never mind. I was determined to win them all over. In time.

Until then, I had a bigger battle on my hands.

Sebastian Diamanti.

Every morning, I put on my armor and faced him in the hall of the palazzo for our ride to work.

Every morning, he was annoyingly polite and charming—an absolute gentleman.

Every morning, he found subtle ways to touch me: a caress of his hand against my neck as he helped me with my coat, a touch of his fingers along the sensitive skin of my wrist as he guided me into the car, a brush of his shoulder as we stood side by side in his private elevator.

All perfectly innocent.

All easily explained away.

All torturous.

There were days I wanted to scream, Just fucking kiss me already!

Days when I wished he’d say, Screw being strictly professional, and push me against a wall, yank up my skirt, and fuck me until I screamed.

Which was why I needed to get away.

From him.

From his home.

I loved my new job. More than I thought possible.

My trial month was already half over, and I couldn’t wait to extend it.

The only sore spot was my increasingly detailed lies to my mother.

I hoped that once I’d settled into my own apartment, I could convince her to visit Rome and fall in love with the city’s dangerous, raw beauty as I had.

But there was my primary problem: finding an apartment.

Every time I thought I’d secured one, I’d get an email saying they’d either rented it to someone else or changed their mind.

I suspected Sebastian’s hand, but I couldn’t prove it.

Damn him.

So here I was, stuck in a purgatory of my own making.