Chapter 2
Emilia
I can’t believe I’m going along with this stranger, hopping into his expensive-looking car and letting him take me wherever he wants.
It’s dumb. Insane.
But it’s too late to stop it now as the car has already begun to drive.
My body feels frozen, and I don’t know if it’s from the cold rain soaking through my clothes or from this man whose warm, callused hand I can still feel wrapped around my fingers even though it’s no longer there.
I stare at my hand, afraid to throw even one glance.
But I can see him look my way through the left side of my eyes. “Do I frighten you?”
I rub my lips together and shake my head.
He snorts and smiles softly.
Fuck.
Of course he can see right through my posturing.
I push through my anxiety and turn to look at him, but I’m struck in awe at how handsome he truly is.
His chiseled jaw with a neatly trimmed beard, that short, textured salt-and-pepper hair with a low fade, buff arms barely contained in that Colbert of his, the intricate tattoos snaking up from his hand all the way to his wrist hiding underneath his clothes, and those piercing blue eyes with a smoldering gaze that reminds me of the moon in the night sky.
Simply breathtaking.
Those eyes will make me do things I’ll regret.
A blush spreads on my cheeks, and I quickly look away again.
He must be twice my age.
My hands tighten across my waist. I cannot let my guard down, no matter what.
“It’s okay,” he says.
Suddenly, I feel a tickle near my neck. Gently sliding across my skin, his finger pushes a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Most people are intimidated by me.”
I shudder against the lavish leather seat.
His hand leaves my skin, and so does the warmth that filtered through my body, goose bumps erupting all over.
I throw another glance at him. I don’t even know what I’m thinking going along with this. But I was in such a low place there that I couldn’t resist taking him up on the offer when he took my hand, even though I know it’s dangerous.
My mother taught me to be wary of any and all men.
Especially the ones who make too many promises.
But what value do her words have now that she threw me out onto the streets?
“I won’t hurt you,” he says. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not,” I lie, glancing over at him once more, even though his killer looks make it so damn hard. But I can’t afford to look weak, despite my obvious low. If there’s anything I know about this world, it’s that people love to take advantage of those in a bad spot.
“If you want to stop the car, you can tell me, and I’ll drop you off. No questions asked,” he adds.
“I’m fine,” I reply, licking my lips. “I just want to know why you would take me with you?”
A coarse, thin smile forms on his face. “Because I saw you hunched over in that alley. Crying.” His fingertips reach for my face, but he stops right before he touches my cheek. “I can’t resist helping occasionally.”
“So you do this often? Take in girls off the streets?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Not often, no. But I have helped people before.”
People. I wonder who.
Judging from the brand of this car, the suit he’s wearing, and the driver in front of us, he’s got loads and loads of cash to dish out. Which means he’s either a businessman or a criminal. Knowing my track record, probably the second.
But can I really say no to help when I have nothing at all and no one else to go to?
“I’ve given you my name, but you still haven’t told me yours,” he says, breaking my train of thought.
“I, uh … Emilia.” I don’t want to give my last name just yet.
Who knows what he intends to do.
Suddenly, my stomach roars, and I rub my hand along my side to stop the noise. But when I turn my head, he’s looking at me with that raised brow and a filthy smirk on his face, and I know he heard.
Goddammit.
“You’re hungry.”
Not a question. A statement.
“I’m f—”
He snaps his finger at his driver. “Take us to Pierre’s.”
“Yes, sir,” the driver responds.
“What’s Pierre’s?” I ask, confused.
“A restaurant,” Vincenzo replies. “One that serves the best dishes this city has to offer.”
Pierre as in … Pierre Faveurre?! The most expensive restaurant in this city?
I swallow. Now I’m sure he’s loaded.
“No, no, wait,” I mutter. “I can’t go there.”
“Why not?” He sounds so calm even though the place he just suggested is so out of reach to people like me, but like it’s the most normal thing in the world to him.
“I-I’m not dress—”
“I’ll get you a dress,” he says, and he grabs my hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the top. “Everything’s on me today.”
I’m too flabbergasted to know how to respond.
He snaps his fingers again. “Quick stop at Nalaga first.”
Nalaga? Outfits there cost at least a thousand a piece, if not more.
“Yes, sir,” the driver responds, and he makes a quick turn to the left.
I don’t know what to say, it’s all a bit too much. And within seconds, we’ve already arrived.
The car stops, and Vincenzo steps out, only to open my door for me like a real gentleman. And I don’t know what I did to deserve all this … or if it’s all a trap.
Vincenzo holds out his hand. “C’mon.”
I reluctantly take it and let him guide me into the big, intricately designed building. There’s a red carpet welcoming the customers, along with rows and rows of closets filled with lavish dresses, all carrying cards with dizzying numbers on them.
“Pick any you like,” he says, releasing my hand.
“There are so many …” I mutter.
“Do you want them all?”
My eyes widen. He sounds like he means it. Literally.
“This one looks nice,” I say, and I grab a long purple dress that’s one of the cheaper ones.
He scratches his chin and raises a brow. “You sure, or are you just picking that one because it costs the least?”
I grin and push the blush away. “I like it.”
“Can I help you?” a lady at the front desk asks as she approaches us. She lowers her nose at me in that same way rich people usually do when they spot me. My drenched clothes definitely give away that I don’t belong in a place like this.
Vincenzo steps forward, blocking her from coming to me. “Dressing room.”
The woman swallows and stares him up and down. “And who will be paying for that outfit?”
“I will,” he snarls.
She huffs but eventually caves. “All right. Dressing room’s that way.” She points me in the right direction.
“Thank you,” I say under my breath as I carefully grab the purple dress off the railing.
Vincenzo grabs my wrist, stopping me. His smoldering eyes are directed only at the lady who runs the store. “She said ‘thank you.’”
“It’s fine,” I mutter under my breath.
“No,” he responds in a calm but threatening manner. “She disrespected you.”
The way he looks at her almost makes me want to say a prayer for her.
Who really is this man?
The lady looks embarrassed, and she quickly steps back. “You’re welcome. Take your time.”
Vincenzo’s lip twitches until the woman finally spins on her heels and returns to the front desk register.
Just one look already made her scurry off like a scared little mouse.
Who has that kind of power?
A dangerous man.
I clutch the dress close and quietly walk to the dressing room, not taking a breath until I’ve locked myself inside.
Oh my God. What are you even doing, Emilia?
What were you thinking going along with a man like that?
He could do all sorts of things to you, and no one would ever find out!
But it’s too late to turn back now. He’s right outside this room, waiting for me to put on this dress and see if it fits.
I take a deep breath and start undressing. No point in delaying the inevitable. Though, when I slide the fabric over my skin, I’m surprised by how well it fits.
I chuck my wet clothes onto the wooden chair in the back and open the door when I’m ready. The glinting look in his eyes catches me off guard as they swoop over my body from head to toe, his tongue dipping out to lick the top of his lip.
“Gorgeous,” he says.
And just that one word makes my skin erupt into goose bumps.
Compliments from random strangers have never made me want to blush. And I don’t understand why I so easily go with everything he says and does.
He has this kind of charm about him that’s impossible to ignore.
But it also makes it hard to defy him.
“Almost like it was made just for you,” he adds, making me smile.
He makes me feel something I haven’t felt in a long while … like I’m actually pretty.
But I feel like I’m only playing pretend. “I could never pay for this,” I reply.
“You don’t need to,” he says, and he walks to the desk. “The lady wants to continue wearing it.”
“Of course,” the woman at the desk responds, rolling her eyes.
“She left her old clothes in the dressing room. Dispose of them, if you will,” he says. “Put it on the tab.” Vincenzo puts down his card. “Take ten percent off the dress’s price.”
She eyes him down.
“Or do you want me to tell your supervisor how poorly you treated one of his biggest customers?”
She swallows again. “Of course, sir. Ten percent off it is.” She hastily enters it into the machine on the desk, then grabs his card and swipes it. “Thank you, sir. Would you like the receipt?”
“Keep it.” Vincenzo makes his way over to me and holds out his hand. “Ready?”
I’m still too stunned to even know how to reply to all of these random acts of kindness, but also because I just don’t trust what’s going on.
Who would help a random girl off the streets?
What does he gain by doing all this?
But when his hand folds into mine, I still let him pull me back out onto the street, wearing this fancy, overpriced dress that I would never be able to wear if it wasn’t for him.
The driver opens the car door again, and I step inside. Vincenzo scoots in behind me, and the driver shuts the door.
“You seem overwhelmed,” Vincenzo says, breaking the spell of silence between us.
I shrug. “It’s just that … I’m not used to this kind of …”
“Kindness?” he fills in for me.
I nod. “That, but also this kind of lifestyle.”