Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chloe
I woke up in my bedroom, unsure how I’d ended up there.
The last thing I remembered was lying on Zane’s chest, enveloped by his warmth. It usually would take me hours to fall asleep, but not last night.
I pulled my hair into a messy ponytail, threw on some leggings and a loose sweater and the morning sun was already streaming through the windows when I made my way downstairs.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I spotted a tall, blonde woman by Zane’s office.
She turned around and her eyes immediately narrowed when she noticed me. The way she looked at me felt like a knife cutting through the air, her disdain palpable.
I kept walking toward the kitchen, pretending I wasn’t seeing her, but her voice stopped me. “Chloe, isn’t it?” she asked, more a statement than a question, not bothering with pleasantries.
The red of her lipstick made her teeth annoyingly white. How could a color feel annoying? I don’t know, but everything about this woman annoyed the hell out of me.
I walked toward her, shortening the distance and choosing not to let her perfectly styled hair and manicured nails intimidate me.
“Yes,” I replied evenly. “And you must be Arianna.”
“Why, yes, darling. I’m glad you already know the name,” she said with that exaggerated, self-centered authority, looking down on me as though she was watching me from a throne.
I was not usually the aggressive type, but if the princess had dared to extend a hand for me to kiss, I might have bitten it.
Before either of us could say anything else, Zane appeared, glancing between us briefly before focusing his gaze on me.
“Chloe, go to your room,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
He looked territorial, and I couldn’t help but wonder why he always seemed so irritated whenever my attention was on Arianna or vice versa.
He turned to her, his arm shooting between us, placing a hand on her shoulder as he guided her into his office. The jealousy pooling in my chest only worsened when Arianna shot me a mocking look that said a clear look who he chose to be with.
Her lips curved into an evil smirk before the door clicked shut behind them.
I wanted to open it again. Storm inside and act like a petulant child refusing to leave them alone.
But I wasn’t going to give either of them that satisfaction.
Instead, I forced myself to turn and walked away, following the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee floating in the air in the opposite direction.
When I entered the kitchen, Clarisse was busy at the counter, and the smell of eggs made my stomach growl. She looked up and gave me the same warm, welcoming smile I was starting to get used to.
“Good morning, Chloe,”
“Good morning.”
The kitchen always felt strangely comforting to be in compared to the rest of the house.
Maybe it was Clarisse’s presence, or maybe it was the smells—the aroma of coffee, the buttery scent of toast, the comforting spices in the air. Smells of a home. Or at least, it was how I imagined a happy home should smell.
Clarisse ushered me to the kitchen island, setting a plate in front of me with toasted bread with melting cheese, a sprinkle of oregano, and fresh cherry tomatoes arranged neatly on top. It was obvious she’d taken the time to make it appealing.
“Eat up, dear. I hear you’ll have a big day ahead.”
I frowned slightly, unsure of what she meant, but too hungry to ask.
I took my first bite, the warm, savory flavors melting on my tongue, doing wonders to ease the tension still lingering from my encounter with Arianna.
Even the small hairs on the back of my neck stood up. It was that good.
I’d been broke all my life, counting pennies week after week, surviving on canned tuna, boiled eggs or other people’s leftovers.
Now, I was getting homemade food served to me every day, made with the freshest and most carefully selected ingredients.
All of that prepared by someone whose hands could easily belong to a top chef anywhere in the world…
…Which reminded me that I didn’t know a lot about Clarisse.
She didn’t look to have been forced to be here like I had been, although she rarely—if ever—left the house either. Everyone respected her but she couldn’t be Zane’s relative, or she wouldn’t be dressed like a maid straight out of the sixties.
“Clarisse,” I began, adjusting myself on the stool, “how did you ended up here? How long have you worked for Zane?”
Her gaze softened as she lifted her eyes to me. “I’ve been with the Santino family for many years. I started working for Zane’s father and his uncle in Italy, then was transferred here when Zane’s mother was pregnant with him, to help around.”
She paused, her eyes drifting somewhere far away, lost in memories.
“It hasn’t always been easy, but… I’ve done my best, you know? I’ve always taken care of him like he was my own.”
I nodded, trying to picture a younger version of Zane, a version untouched by the crime world he’d grown up in.
“You must have seen a lot, then.”
“Oh, I have.” She let out a nervous chuckle. “I’ve seen it all. The beautiful and the ugly. One thing that never changes is his fierce protectiveness over those he cares about, even if he doesn’t always show it in the kindest ways.”
Her words felt aimed directly at me, hinting at something I might have been missing.
“You really care about him,” I said, more an observation than a question.
“I do," Clarisse nodded, her expression turning thoughtful. “Zane’s been through a lot, and it’s hardened him in ways you might not fully understand. But deep down, he’s still that little boy who lost his parents too soon.
He just needs someone to remind him that life doesn’t have to be so heavy. That life can be a lot more than this.”
There was a strong sense of loyalty that ran deep in this house. It made me realize that maybe Zane wasn’t just a cold-hearted criminal. He couldn’t be just that when he had people who genuinely cared for him, people he protected back in ways I couldn’t fully understand yet.
Must be nice to have that type of bond with someone.
I was about to ask more when a voice interrupted, “Morning, Chloe!”
I turned to see Jane standing in the doorway, wearing a suit that made her look like an attorney.
“Morning,” I replied with a smile as she strolled in, and then I watched as she leaned into the kitchen counter to grab an apple, taking it to her red-lined mouth.
“I hear you’re going to the mayor’s daughter’s party tonight,” she said between bites. “Are you excited?”
I blinked, taken aback by the question. “Party? I haven’t heard anything about a party.”
Clarisse shook her head, and Jane pressed her lips together.
“Oh, I assumed Zane would have mentioned it already.” She hesitated, as if realizing she might have let something slip.
“It’s supposed to be a birthday party for the mayor’s daughter, but in reality, it’s more of an event for her father.
A big deal. Everyone who’s anyone will be there.
It’s not every day you get an invite to a high-profile gathering. ” she added.
Actually, during our dinner last night, Zane did mention something was going to happen today.
Was he really taking me to a party?! And if so, was it part of some sick plan?
Before I could press her for more details, the sound of footsteps approaching made us look at the doorway.
Zane appeared, his presence instantly commanding attention.
I hadn’t noticed before, but he looked like he’d just stepped out of a high-end fashion ad.
The crisp white dress shirt hugged his arms perfectly, its sleeves half-rolled up, bringing attention to the expensive watch on his wrist, one that he always wore as if it was his signature.
My gaze lingered for a second too long, admiring his strong forearms. Over the shirt, he wore a dark vest, buttoned neatly, emphasizing his build.
And to finish off, a simple tie to pull everything together.
And here I was, sporting a baggy sweater and wanting this specimen of a man to take me seriously.
“Chloe,” he called out, his voice firm but not unkind. “I won’t be around but I’ll send a car to pick you up later. Clarisse will give you further instructions.”
I nodded, still captivated by the sight of him.
Zane’s gaze lingered on me for a moment before he turned to Clarisse. “Make sure she’s ready in time.”
“Of course,” Clarisse replied with a respectful nod.
Zane’s eyes moved back to me and lingered there for a long second, his expression cold but captivating, and then he turned and walked away with Jane following behind him, until they were both gone.
Leaving me in the dark once again.