Page 49 of Valentino

“It means he probably has his new wife bent over his desk.”

“Oh.”

He gives me a playful wink,

“Alright then.” The thought sends a jealous pang through me, I wish I was happily married and being bent over my new husband’s desk. We walk out through reception with a million hot girl eyes looking us over. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he says all swoony like.

“Good afternoon,” they all singsong back.

Ugh…. He has them all eating out of the palm of his hand and hanging off his every word.

We get into the lift and turn to face the front and as soon as the doors close the air changes, suddenly thick with want and chemistry, what is it about being in a small space with this man?

“Where do you live?” I try to make conversation as I act all casual.

“I have two homes in Milan.”

“Two?”

“I live between an apartment and my place in Navigli.”

“You have a home in the Navigli?”

“I’ll show you one day. but tonight we’ll go to my apartment.”

“Sure.” I shrug, is this casual act fooling anyone, sure isn’t fooling me.

The elevator stops in the basement, I follow him through the parking lot, and he holds the keys up, a blacked-out Range Rover lights up and unlocks. It’s so tall that he has to hold my hand while I climb in. He jumps behind the wheel and we pull out.

“You don’t have anyone follow you around,” I ask as I look around for the other cars. That’s so weird, whenever I go anywhere there’s two or three cars.

“I prefer to be alone throughout the city.”

“So….” I frown over to him. “This car….”

“Is armored.”

“Your car is armored?”

“Can’t stand anyone following me around, it drives me mad. In this car I’m as safe as can be. Not even an explosion would blow this tank up.”

He continues to drive as his words roll around in my head, I don’t know what is more unsettling about that sentence: the fact that not even an explosion would blow this tank up, or is it the fact that he drives a tank because he needs that much protection?

Ferrara land is a whole other world.

We drive in silence as my mind tries to reconcile everything that he casually mentioned.

I wonder what the security issue is.

And what seems like two seconds later we arrive at another underground parking lot of a skyscraper.

“You live here?” I frown as I lean forward to look up to the top of the building. “I never took you for a skyscraper kind of man.”

He smiles as he punches in his security code. “To be honest neither did I. Security is easier here. One elevator and one staircase, very little risk of anyone getting through.”

“Do you stay here often?”

“Only at certain times when I need to.”