12
I couldn't get Luca's words out of my head.
"You're mine."
The way he'd said it was firm, unwavering, and so intense that it left no room for doubt. It wasn't the kind of statement you could brush off or misinterpret. It had felt... possessive, almost uncomfortably so. And yet, a part of me—a part I wasn't ready to acknowledge—had warmed at the idea.
I tried to shake the thought as I went through my tasks for the morning.
The office was busy, the sound of phones ringing and quiet conversations filling the air.
I focused on the familiarity of my work: organizing Luca's schedule, confirming appointments, and making sure every detail of his day was perfectly planned.
But even as I buried myself in my tasks, my mind kept drifting back to yesterday. The way he had looked at me—so intense, so consuming—it had felt like he could see right through me.
And then there was his protectiveness, the way he'd insisted I come to him if anyone made me uncomfortable. He had seemed so sincere, almost tender in his own way. It was confusing.
And part of me liked it. Soaking up all the tender sides of him which I was craving since I was a kid.
I wasn't used to people looking out for me.
Growing up, I'd learned to rely on myself. My father had been a cold, distant man, quick to anger and impossible to please. Then Sam had been worse. I'd spent my childhood trying to avoid their wrath, walking on eggshells and shrinking into myself.
Luca's anger had reminded me of him, if only for a moment. That's why it had hit me so hard, why it had triggered memories I'd worked so hard to bury. But unlike my others, Luca had apologized. He'd taken responsibility for his actions, something no one had never done.
And now... now I didn't know how to feel.
I glanced up from my desk, my gaze drifting to the glass wall of Luca's office. It was one-sided so all I saw was black. Flushing at the thought he might be looking back I looked away.
Beneath that calm exterior of him, I could sense something deeper, something darker.
I just didn't know what it was—or what it meant for me.
From the moment I walked into the office that morning, my mind was consumed by her.
She was a distraction, a weakness I couldn't afford. And yet, I couldn't stop myself from wanting more—more of her smiles, more of her soft-spoken words, more of the way she looked at me with those mismatched eyes, like I was both terrifying and fascinating all at once.
Oh Lenora, I'm going to have all of you.
I watched her from my desk, my gaze lingering on her delicate frame as she worked. She moved with quiet efficiency, her focus entirely on her tasks. But I noticed the way her fingers trembled ever so slightly when she typed, the way she bit her lip when she was nervous.
She was hiding something.
The way she flinched when someone spoke too harshly to her, the way she avoided conflict at all costs—it wasn't just shyness. It was fear.
And I wanted to know why.
Not because I was curious, but because it mattered. If something—or someone—had hurt her in the past, I needed to know. I needed to protect her, even if she didn't realize she needed protecting.
The thought of someone else causing her pain, of someone else leaving scars on her heart—it made my blood boil. I wouldn't let the person rest well.
But I couldn't show that. Not yet.
For now, I had to focus on business. The board was breathing down my neck about the Becker's deal, and I couldn't afford any distractions—not even Lenora.
Or so I told myself.
The morning passed in a blur of meetings and negotiations. I was ruthless, cutting down objections and sharp . The board members nodded along, too afraid to challenge me. That was how it should be.
But even as I dominated the room, my mind kept drifting back to her.
By the time lunch rolled around, I couldn't resist the urge to see her again.
"Lenora," I called through the intercom.
"Yes, Mr. Maroni?"
Fuck that voice.
"Come to my office."
It didn't take long for her to appear, clutching her tablet like a shield. She looked up at me with wide eyes, nervous.
"Close the door," I said.
She obeyed, her movements quick and precise.
"Sit," I instructed, gesturing to the chair in front of my desk.
She perched on the edge of the seat, her posture stiff.
I leaned back in my chair, studying her. "How are you feeling today?"
Her brows furrowed slightly, as if the question caught her off guard. "I'm fine, thank you."
"Fine," I repeated, my tone flat. "That's not exactly reassuring."
She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her tablet. "I—I'm doing better than yesterday."
"Good."
"We're having meeting the day after tomorrow in Italy, I want you to accompany me."
She looked shock, "I..Italy?"
"Yes."
She bit her lips looking at a distance before nodding, "When are we leaving?"
I tried to hide my surprise, while I expected many questions lining up she simply asks the dat.
"Tonight, you don't have to worry about passports and forms since I've taken care of it."
"W-what?" she said shocked.
"You can leave after this and pack up and I'll pick you up at 8:00 pm," I said as she gulped nodding.
All I wanted to do was get her ass over my desk and claim the fuck out of her.
Slow down Luca.
"That's all, you can leave."