Chapter 8
8
M assimo
"Black coffee? Is that all?" Colleen, my housekeeper, asks. She's run a tight ship at my house for the last few years, taking care of the daily stuff. She raises her thin eyebrow, then wrinkles crinkle around her blue eyes as she shakes her head.
"For now," I say.
She shrugs. "Back in my day, newlyweds had a robust appetite the morning after getting married."
I chuckle. Colleen certainly gets away with saying shit most people would not. But we have a good rapport, and she's only trying to look out for me. When she became my employee, she also needed help. Protection. Her husband was in trouble due to gambling debts. We took care of it, and even with her snarky comments here and there, I feel her gratitude.
"You must still be working your appetite in the morning, given how late you've been arriving the last few weeks," I say, to put her in her place.
She smooths her hand over her petite frame. "I joined a new yoga class. I need exercise to keep healthy at my age. Besides, don't change the subject. I saw your wife at the wedding last night but didn't get the chance to exchange more than a few words. How's she doing?"
"Good."
I look at my watch—nine am.
When I left the room an hour ago, Amara was still asleep.
She should be tired by all accounts. After we had sex, we fell asleep, and I woke her up a few hours later for round two. And then three.
All in the dark, as she requested.
The idea bothers me. It shouldn't. I've tried plenty of different kinks to keep an open mind about things. It was the notion that she didn't want to see me.
Annoyance crawls under my skin. Something was different when we had sex. Even when I could bet my life on her coming, I could tell that she was trying so hard to keep her distance.
Rationally, this works. I don't need a clingy wife who monitors my every move. It's the ideal scenario. But why does it bother me so much that even when she had countless orgasms, I could tell there was a part of her I didn't reach? A part of her I want to reach. Badly.
What could it be?
"Oh. There she is," Colleen says, her voice softer. "Good morning."
She's wearing workout clothes, a tight shirt with a matching pair of leggings. The outfit clings to her body, and my cock moves. Last night, I didn't get to see her naked, and even though I enjoyed her epic tits and curvy ass, seeing them would have been the cherry on top.
"Good morning, Colleen. We didn't get a chance to talk last night."
"Trust me, we will. Have a seat," Colleen says.
Amara smiles at her, then takes a seat across from me. "What's your schedule like?" she asks, and her smile dims when her eyes meet mine.
"Monday through Friday," Colleen says. "If you have any food allergies or need anything, I'm your woman."
"Perfect." She takes a bite of a buttery croissant. "Do you have any eggs?"
"Cook to order. How do you like them?"
"Scrambled."
"I'll be right back."
"She's a gem," Amara says.
"Yes. She's been the lady of the house for a while." And she'll still be, even with you here , I refrain from adding. Although I don't get domestic diva vibes from Amara, I hope she can gel with Colleen's quirks.
She grabs a linen napkin and places it on her lap. "Oh, I don't doubt it. Are you going to work?"
"Soon. What are your plans for today?" I ask, wanting to deflect from her question. Then my phone buzzes, and I scoop it from the table.
The driver has been found, but he's not willing to talk.
A message from Dante. We've been trying to track down a disgruntled driver who worked for us before. He was seen talking to the Santinis, and we need to know if he gave them any confidential information before we end his life.
I type. Where is he?
Nebraska.
Oh great. One day into my marriage, and I already have a work trip. But I can't let Dante or anyone else handle it when I was the one who fired the bastard in the first place. I need to see it through like I do all my affairs.
"Something came up, and I'll be out of town for the next few days. Anthony is available to take you anywhere. He'll also be your bodyguard. When you go to busier events without me, someone else will join him."
"I don't need a babysitter."
Hasn't she had her own security? I understand her family was cutting corners, but I've been to her home and seen men guarding the place—just like the team I have, securing my perimeters at all times. Cameras, the works. "Anthony has been working for my family for years. He's trustworthy."
She picks a piece of bread from the basket and breaks it in half. "I didn't ask for his resume. I'm able to drive and don't want to be tracked."
An impossible demand. Even for me. I have a collection of sports cars I enjoy driving, but in my daily life? I'm chauffeured all the way—faster to get things done, plus added security. My driver and assistant, Tom, has worked for the family for ten years and is skilled in four martial arts. "Why? Worried Anthony will see the skeletons in your closet?"
"Killing is your specialty, not mine," she says, then tilts her head to the side.
"I'm a businessman, not a hitman."
She lifts her chin, her gaze fiery. "I know exactly what you are."
I rock back in my chair, unfazed. "I doubt it. If you did, you wouldn't talk like this."
She takes a deep breath, maybe reassessing her attitude, then looks at me again, a vulnerability crossing her expression. "I don't want a bodyguard."
"That's non-negotiable. It's for your safety." I'm not running short on enemies, a common occurrence in the trade. The fact that the Santinis were hounding my employee shows they were lurking, waiting for the right time to attack.
"If he lays one finger on me…." She trails off, her voice wavering for a moment as she glances down at her lap.
I frown. Isn't she listening? The bodyguard is supposed to protect her from danger, not to cause it. She should know, coming from her family. But maybe she's unsure because it's a new environment, and she doesn't know what kind of people work for me. "If he lays one finger on you, I'll break it myself. Then I'll cut it off and stuff it in his mouth."
She parts her lips, but words don't come out. I see the small bob making its way down her throat. I got her attention. Good. "I'll remember that."