Page 47

Paulo shut off the water and grabbed a towel. For once, he didn’t think about strategies or contingencies. He thought about Madelaine. About the fact that if he wanted her, truly wanted her, then he would have to see her in ways no one else ever had.

He tugged on boxers, then reached for a pair of jeans. But Paulo paused with a frown. Something felt…off. He shifted, adjusted. The boxers weren’t sitting correctly. Irritated, he yanked the jeans on anyway and grabbed a shirt. It wasn’t until he went to the sock drawer that he realized the full extent of the problem.

“What the hell…?” he muttered, staring down into the drawer.

Every sock, every damn one, was knotted into a tight ball. And not a single knotted pair matched each other. Rosa always folded them neatly, organized by color, by thickness. Now the drawer was chaos.

“Madelaine,” he growled under his breath, painstakingly loosening the knot. It took several minutes of tugging before he freed a pair, his teeth clenched as he pulled them on. He stomped to his shoes, yanked them off the rack, and paused. Suspicion prickled. He tipped them upside down and shook, half-expecting glitter or gravel to fall out. Nothing. Relieved, he put them on.

But the simmering irritation didn’t fade. It continued to burn in his chest as he stalked toward the door. Then, he stopped.

His gaze dropped to his feet. The knotted socks. The mismatched chaos.

At first, he’d been furious. But the longer he stood there, the more his mood shifted from rage to understanding.

She had done this deliberately. A jab, yes. A prank, maybe. But it was more than that.

Madelaine wanted to be seen.

Every one of her small rebellions, the paperclip chain, the oatmeal swap, the socks, was a flare in the dark, a signal that she mattered. That she wasn’t invisible. And in her mind, his betrayal had confirmed her worst fear: that she was just a tool. A means to an end.

Damn it.

His apology wasn’t going to cut it. Nor was asking her to help with funeral plans. Not even catching her father would prove anything to Madelaine.

What she needed was for him to prove he could see her. Really see her. To understand her.

He clenched his fists, then exhaled slowly. Strategy, Paulo reminded himself, was his strength. But this wasn’t about war or business. This was about a woman who had been forced to hide herself away her whole life.

And he would be damned if she stayed invisible to him.

Chapter 32

The front door opened just as Paulo was walking out of the kitchen. His guards had already warned him about the man’s arrival, but he still wanted the man to leave. He just wanted to focus on Madelaine and figure out how to fix his mess.

A moment later, a tall man stepped into the foyer, Madelaine coming out of the kitchen behind him. Paulo watched as Madelaine took in the tall man and wanted to punch his old friend. Andrei Petrov was handsome in an effortless sort of way. Dark hair, broad shoulders, an expensive suit, and the kind of face that belonged on magazine covers. They’d met on the golf course several weeks ago, but Andrei looked especially handsome in a suit.

And because of that stare, Paulo purposely stepped in between the two people.

"Andrei." Paulo crossed the room and shook his hand. "You’re back."

"I am,” the other man replied, shaking Paulo’s hand. Andrei's gaze shifted past him and settled once again on Madelaine who was offering a polite smile. And that’s the only reason Paulo didn’t knock the man out.

Just as it had been on the golf course, Andrei’s expression didn’t imply interest. It was still just…curious, as if he were trying to solve a puzzle. Which made sense because…sure enough, Skye Wynn was right behind him. The man rarely traveled without her now. So why hadn’t she been with him when he’d visited the last time?

"Madelaine," Paulo said smoothly. "You remember Andrei Petrov?"

Madelaine stepped forward, extending her hand. "Of course!” she said with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Petrov."

"You as well,” the other man replied, even bowing slightly. But Paulo noticed that Andrei didn’t take his eyes off of Madelaine. Paulo glanced behind him and noticed that Skye’s jaw was clenched tightly. She even pulled her cell phone out and typed out something, turning away as if she couldn’t handle seeing her boss staring at another woman.

Skye Wynn was truly lovely. Not in the dramatic way actresses were beautiful, but in a refined, intelligent sort of way. Dark hair swept neatly away from her face. Elegant posture. Sharp eyes that seemed capable of dismantling an argument in three sentences or less. Everything about her projected competence and quiet confidence.

By then, Andrei had stopped looking at Madelaine altogether. He turned toward Paulo. "I was hoping we could discuss the factory issues that we weren’t able to conclude during our golf game as well as a few other issues that have come up. Could I have a private word with you?"

Paulo's eyebrows rose. "Of course." Paulo turned to look at Madelaine. “Could you…?” he started, but Madelaine was already on it, heading around him to the other woman.

For a moment, Paulo hesitated, making sure that Skye wouldn’t do or say anything to hurt Madelaine’s feelings. But he shouldn’t have worried. Skye was the ultimate professional. She smiled, with only a slight bit of reserve, as the two greeted each other.