Katie
I’m once again sitting in Michael’s sleek black sports car, only this time we drive right through Auburn Heights. He tells me we need to go back to his place to get a change of clothes. I don’t argue. Mostly because I’m extremely curious to see where Michael Amato lives.
He’s a billionaire CEO. I know it’s going to be fucking ridiculous.
His hand is resting firmly on my bare thigh because he told me to wear a dress. Apparently, I just obey him now. He walked into my closet, looked around for maybe three seconds, grabbed a dress, and tossed it onto the bed.
“This one.”
It’s light blue with tiny little white flowers all over it. The top fits snug, and the skirt falls into this floaty shape that moves when I walk.
It’s sweet, it’s pretty, and apparently, it’s the dress Michael Amato decided I should wear today.
“You are going to love the crepes at The Orchid Room,” he says as he gets off the freeway.
“The Orchid Room, huh?”
The Orchid Room at Amato Plaza—his hotel. The one with his fucking name on it.
He glances over and narrows his eyes. “Heard of it?”
“Are you a narcissist?” I ask sweetly.
His head falls back, and he laughs—loud enough that it fills the car. My stomach does a little flip, and before I can stop it, a smile slips across my face. I place my hand over his where it rests on my thigh and squeeze.
“You like me?” he asks.
He’s not being smug or teasing me. He’s just curious.
“Very much,” I say.
He bites his lip and grins.
Fuck me.
Michael turns off the road, and the car rolls onto a long stretch of smooth pavement that disappears into a wall of trees.
We drive for maybe thirty seconds before I see them—gates.
Tall wrought-iron bars framed by massive stone pillars tower above the car.
They’re the kind you only see in movies about billionaires and dictators.
The car slows, and the gates glide open. I stare at them as we roll forward.
“Michael.”
“Yes, Doll.”
“Why does your house have gates?”
“Security.”
“Security for what?”
“Did you forget that I’m a billionaire?” he smirks.
“Did you forget that I’m a billionaire?” I say in a mock voice shaking my head.
He continues smiling.
The driveway curves through the trees for an unreasonable amount of time, winding deeper and deeper until I start wondering if we’re driving into the middle of a national forest. Then the trees suddenly break, and my brain stops working because sitting in the middle of a massive stone courtyard is a house so enormous it takes a second for me to process what I’m actually looking at.
Columns rise two stories high across the front. Balconies wrap around the upper floors, and massive black double doors sit at the top of a wide staircase. There are fountains—actual fountains. Flower beds explode with bright red blooms. Perfectly trimmed hedges curl into spirals.
Michael doesn’t say anything. He just drives the car forward, rolling into the massive stone courtyard and stopping at the base of the wide front steps.
Men stand along the steps in suits. I count them in my head. Eight. There are eight of them.
“Are you in the CIA?”
He laughs.
“No, Doll. And even if I were, I couldn’t tell you.”
My hand moves for the door handle, but Michael reaches across and shakes his head once.
I pause.
One of the men is already walking toward the car. He opens Michael’s door, and he steps out without a word, handing him the keys.
“Boss,” the man says, nodding respectfully.
Michael doesn’t respond. Instead, he walks around the front of the car and opens my door himself. He leans down, offering his hand. I stare at it before taking it. He helps me out of the car. We pass the men on the stairs. None of them speak, and Michael ignores them.
What the actual hell?
He’s still holding my hand when we reach the top of the steps, and the massive front doors swing open before he even touches them. What is he, some kind of goddamn king?
A man steps forward from inside, and behind him is Luca.
“Luca!” I say, relieved. “Hi.”
“Miss Katie,” he says. “Nice to see you.”
The other man’s eyes flick between Luca, me, and Michael.
“Boss,” he says.
“Marco,” Michael says calmly. “This is Katie.”
“Hi!”
Marco gives me a single, polite nod. He looks down at our hands. Michael notices, and the look he gives him is lethal. Marco looks away.
We continue inside, and once again I’m assaulted by opulence. The foyer stretches two stories high. Marble gleams under a chandelier the size of a small car. A sweeping staircase splits in two directions.
People line the walls in immaculate uniforms. Apparently, he has maids and butlers. They stand perfectly still with their hands folded in front of them.
I lean into Michael.
“Dude, who the hell are you?”
He smiles at that and pulls me against his side, his arm settling around my waist. I catch Luca and Marco exchanging a quick look before their attention shifts back to Michael.
An older maid steps forward.
“Mr. Amato, good morning. We didn’t know what time to expect you. We don’t have breakfast prepared,” she says.
“Beatrice,” he says warmly, “it’s alright. I’m only here to change.”
He looks down at me.
“This is Katie.”
Beatrice’s face brightens immediately.
“Miss Katie,” she says with a smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Beatrice, do you think you could take Katie up to my room? I’ll be up shortly.”
What?
“Of course.”
I turn and run straight into Michael’s chest.
“Where are you going?”
His hands settle on my arms.
“I’ve got a few loose ends I need to deal with. Work stuff. It’ll take forty-five minutes, tops.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I whisper.
Behind him, Luca and Marco look at me before averting their eyes somewhere else.
“Doll,” he says patiently, “I promise I’ll get it done as quickly as possible, and then I’m taking you to breakfast. If you don’t want to sit in my room, Beatrice can show you the grounds.”
I sigh dramatically. “This sucks.”
His mouth twitches.
“Now,” he murmurs, rubbing my arms, “it’s adorable when you pout, but I really do need to take care of this.”
I close my eyes and exhale.
“Fine, but you better hurry.”
“I promise.”
Then he leans down and kisses me. Right there in the foyer, with Marco, Luca, Beatrice, and the household staff standing a few feet away. His hand slides up to the back of my neck as he pulls me closer, completely unconcerned with the audience.