Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Nico
She's not afraid of me.
She should be. I've given her every reason.
"You're wrong about me." The words scrape out of my throat before I can stop them.
Kristen tilts her head, those grey-blue eyes studying me the way I've been studying her for weeks. "Am I?"
"I'm not safe, Kristen. Not for you. Not for anyone."
"I didn't say you were safe." She closes the textbook, sets it aside. "I said you wouldn't hurt me."
The distinction shouldn't matter. It does.
"I can't stop thinking about you." The confession feels like bleeding out. "I've tried. I've run the numbers, calculated every reason this is a catastrophic idea. You're temporary. You have a daughter. You're in my family's debt. You should hate me."
Her breath catches. "I don't hate you."
"You've been avoiding looking at me for days."
She trie to form words and then stops herself. Shakes her head. "It doesn't matter."
"It matters."
"Nico—"
"Say it."
The command comes out rougher than I intend. Kristen's eyes widen, but she doesn't flinch. Doesn't look away. Instead, she lifts her chin in that defiant way that makes my blood run hot.
"Every time you walk into a room," she says slowly, "I forget that wanting you is probably the dumbest thing I've ever done, and I've made a lot of dumb decisions."
I shouldn't do this.
I shouldn't move closer. Shouldn't let my hand reach up to cup her jaw, my thumb brushing across her cheekbone. Shouldn't watch her pupils blow wide, her lips part.
I close the distance.
Her lips are soft. Softer than I imagined, and I've imagined this more than I should. The kiss starts gentle but the moment she sighs against my mouth, something snaps.
I pull back just enough to see her face. Her eyes are still closed, lashes fanned across her cheeks. My lips ache from the loss of her.
So I kiss her again.
This time I don't hold back. My hand slides into her hair, tilting her head to deepen the angle. She moans and I go hard so fast.
Her fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer, and I let her. I'd let her do anything right now.
Then she freezes.
Kristen pulls back, her breathing ragged. "I'm sorry."
The words don't compute. "What?"
"That was—I shouldn't have—" She's scrambling now, standing up so fast she nearly trips over the medical textbook. "I provoked you. That was completely unprofessional. You're my employer and I'm living in your house and I just—"
"Kristen."
"—made everything complicated when you've already done so much for me and Lily, and this is exactly why I shouldn't drink, even one glass makes me stupid and—"
"Kristen."
She stops. Stares at me with those wide grey-blue eyes, already rebuilding her walls. Already talking herself out of what just happened.
I reach up and grab her wrist. One gentle tug, and she's falling—onto my lap, her thighs bracketing my hips, her hands braced against my chest for balance.
"What are you doing?" she breathes.
"You didn't provoke me." I hold her gaze. "You couldn't provoke me into something I didn't already want."
"But—"
"I kissed you because I've been dying to for days."
Her pulse hammers against my fingers where I'm still holding her wrist.
"This is a terrible idea," she whispers.
"I know."
"You're my boss."
"I know."
"Your family is—"
"I know what my family is." I release her wrist, but only so I can settle both hands on her hips. She doesn't move away. "I know exactly what I am. And I'm telling you anyway. I want you."
Kristen's eyes shine. For a terrible moment, I think she's going to cry.
Instead, she leans down and kisses me.
Her mouth moves against mine like she's been starving for this. For me. The thought sends heat straight to my cock.
I grip her hips tighter, pulling her flush against me so she can feel exactly what she's doing. Kristen gasps into the kiss, and I swallow the sound. My fingers dig into the soft flesh at her waist through the thin fabric of her shirt.
Mine.
The word echoes through my skull like a gunshot.
"Mommy?"
Kristen launches off my lap so fast she nearly takes out the coffee table. I bite back a groan as cold air replaces her warmth.
Lily stands in the doorway. Her eyes blink sleepily at us.
"Baby, what are you doing up?" Kristen's voice comes out three octaves too high. She smooths down her hair with shaking hands. "You should be sleeping."
"I had a bad dream." Lily's gaze drifts to me, then back to her mother. "What were you doing?"
I watch Kristen's face cycle through approximately twelve shades of panic in two seconds flat.
"I was—we were—" She gestures vaguely at me. "Mr. Nico wasn't feeling well."
"He looks okay."
"He's not. He's very sick. I was checking him."
Lily frowns. "Like when Dr. Patterson checks me?"
"Exactly like that." Kristen nods so hard I'm worried she'll give herself whiplash. "I was examining him. Because that's what you do when someone's not feeling well. You examine them. To see what's wrong. Which is what I was doing. Examining."
She's still talking. The words tumble out faster and faster, a runaway train of bullshit that would be hilarious if I wasn't currently hard enough to pound nails.
"—and you know how I read those medical books? Well, that's basically like being a doctor, except not officially, but the point is I was just checking to make sure he was okay because he said his—his chest hurt—"
"My chest," I confirm, because watching her spiral is entertaining as hell.
Kristen shoots me a look that promises murder.
Lily just stares at her mother with the blank acceptance only a four-year-old can manage. She doesn't care about the explanation. She doesn't understand that two minutes ago, her mother was grinding on my lap like her life depended on it.
Thank God for small mercies.
"Are you done examining?" Lily asks, already shuffling toward Kristen. "The shadows were being scary and I want to sleep again."
Kristen's entire demeanor shifts. The panic drains away, replaced by worry. She drops to her knees and pulls Lily into her arms.
"Of course, baby girl. The shadows can't get you when Mommy's there."
Lily burrows into her mother's neck. "Is Mr. Nico going to be okay?"
"He'll be fine." Kristen stands, hoisting Lily onto her hip.
Kristen finally meets my eyes over Lily's head. Her cheeks are still flushed, her lips swollen from my mouth. She looks wrecked in the best possible way.
"Goodnight," she says. The word carries a thousand things she can't say in front of her daughter.
This was a mistake.
We can't do this again.
I want to do this again.
"Goodnight." I keep my voice even. Controlled. Like I'm not dying to drag her back to this couch and finish what we started.
Kristen turns and walks toward the hallway. Lily waves at me over her mother's shoulder, Sir Floppington flopping limply in her grip.
"Night night, Mr. Nico. Feel better."
"Thanks, Lily."
Then they're gone. Swallowed by the shadows of the hallway.
I sit there for a long moment, staring at the empty doorway. My cock throbs against my zipper. My skin burns where Kristen touched me.
Fuck.
I scrub a hand over my face and lean back against the couch cushions.
Kristen
The kiss plays on loop in my head like a broken record I can't stop.
Monday morning breakfast comes and goes. Lily chatters about the pancakes I made, shaped like bunnies because of course they are. Nora laughs at something Vittoria says. Sophia picks at her food, still worried about Lorenzo being in Sicily.
I smile. I nod. I pour orange juice.
But my brain? My brain is stuck on last night. On Nico's hands in my hair. On his mouth demanding everything I had to give.
Get it together, Kristen.
His chair at the table sits empty.
Giulia told me that Nico sometimes disappears. Works through the night. Forgets meals exist. "He's been like this since he was a boy," she said, shaking her head with fond exasperation. "The mind never stops with that one."
So I don't know if he's avoiding me or just being himself.
I don't know if it meant anything or if it was just... a moment. A mistake. Something we'll both pretend never happened.
After breakfast, I find Maria in the laundry room. She's sorting darks from lights, humming something in Italian under her breath.
"The guest linens need changing in the east wing," I tell her, checking the tablet Giulia left me. "And Vittoria wants her dry cleaning picked up by noon."
"Sì, sì." Maria waves a dismissive hand. "I know Miss Vittoria's schedule better than she does."
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I pull it out expecting a text from my mother—we haven't spoken since she sold me out to Jack—but it's a call. From a number I recognize.
My lawyer.
"Excuse me," I murmur to Maria, stepping into the hallway.
"Ms. Thomas?" Patricia Chen's voice is careful. The way she sounds when delivering bad news.
My stomach drops.
"What happened?"
"Jack filed for sole custody this morning. His lawyer submitted the motion at nine."
The words don't make sense. They rattle around my skull like loose change, refusing to form meaning.
"I'm sorry—what?"
"sole custody of Lily. His filing claims you've demonstrated unstable behavior and are currently employed by individuals with alleged criminal connections."
I laugh. It sounds unhinged even to my own ears.
"He—" I press my free hand against the wall, needing something solid.
I informed her about the situation because what choice did I have?
But I can't believe that this is really happening.
He stole a hundred thousand dollars from me.
He put a loan in my name with the Russian mob. And he's calling me unstable?
"I understand your frustration—"
"No." My voice cracks. "No, you don't understand. He moved to New York with his mistress. He hasn't paid a single cent of child support in eight months. And now he wants to take my daughter?"
Silence on the other end.
"Ms. Thomas, I need you to stay calm."