Chapter 7
LORENZO
This woman has a perfectly rehearsed stink eye, which she frequently trains on me.
“You can use the guest room downstairs, but my room is completely off limits,” she says as she opens her apartment door. Her apartment building is prestigious and well known, as expected of anyone who carries the Taylor name.
It seems to infuriate her more that I don’t give in to her threats, which, dare I say, might even be cute if she thinks they have any genuine weight against me.
When we first walk in, I scan the main living area. It’s ridiculously spacious, yet it has a nice flow to it. It’s contemporary in feel, with small splashes of beige and light pinks. But mismatched colored vases sprinkle the room with various flowers that have already begun to wilt.
On my left is a large island counter with barstools framing a polished kitchen.
In front is a living space that, instead of a TV, has a large wooden library filled with books and a fireplace.
I curiously walk over, ignoring the plush couches and cushions, grimacing as I look over the titles, which are all romance.
“Don’t come in here and judge what I read,” she says defensively as she removes her heels and leaves them at the door, stacked with another ten pairs. Then she begins removing her jewelry, starting with the earrings.
I’m not judging her choice of reading, but more so the fact that I don’t understand the appeal of romance.
The floor-to-ceiling windows let the night spill in. It’s busy, bright, irritating—and dangerous. “The blinds are to be closed at all times.”
She snorts, and I turn to face her, her hands on her hips. “I like the nightlife and the city. The blinds stay open.”
My temple pulses as I lick my lips, trying my hardest to play nice. “Have you ever seen a movie where the target gets a bullet through the head because they’ve been sniped through a window?”
She immediately pales. A cold, palpable tension drifts between us.
“You’re so obnoxious. If you’re as good at this security thing as you say, then you’ll figure out another way.
They stay open. I’ll remind you that you’re a guest in my home.
Actually, not even that—you’re lucky I’m giving you a room at all.
I could very well just make you sleep on the floor outside the apartment door. ”
I casually shrug. “I’ve slept on worse. But, no, whatever room you’re in, I’m in.”
She raises her finger to silence me, and my temple pulses again.
I can already tell this woman is going to drive me insane.
“Ground rules. You don’t go into my room.
I need my privacy, especially if I have to entertain this fake boyfriend bodyguard bullshit.
If you come to my shop, you stay in the back and out of my way.
No, inviting any weird cold-blooded killer friends into my home.
Most importantly, you’re not going to parties or events with me.
The sooner this is over, the better, and we’ll pretend like it never happened. ”
“I go wherever you go.” I fold my arms in front of my chest. For such a tiny woman, she’s very defiant.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I need my privacy. You’re not coming into my room.” She stands her ground. “And no parties where gossip will definitely spread.”
“I think you misunderstand the point of using the cover of being in a relationship. I’m with you everywhere, unless you’re daring enough to create a believable excuse as to why you suddenly have a bodyguard. It’s your choice, Sunshine.”
She doesn’t seem to like that as her cheeks turn a shade of furious red.
“Do you even know what a relationship looks like?” she berates.
I shrug. “I get the gist of it.”
“No to you being in my room.”
“Then you close the blinds in your bedroom,” I challenge.
“No.”
“Yes.”
She waves her hands in the air. “You’re so insufferable.”
“Your attempt last night to seduce me would say otherwise,” I say matter-of-factly.
Her cheeks flush a deeper red.
“I actually hate you.” She turns toward the staircase that, from what I can see, leads to a private room.
Her bedroom, I’m assuming. She points to the room beside the living space.
“That’s your room. Don’t speak to me.” She hovers at the middle point of the stairs and looks over her shoulder.
Despite the upheaval she’s gone through in the past few days, she appears regal as she looks down her nose at me.
“And the blinds stay open,” she adds defiantly, then continues storming up the stairs.
“You still haven’t eaten today,” I call out. The door slams behind her. This woman is going to be unbearable to deal with. She’s bratty, which only complicates my role. Sure, I can understand how this might inconvenience her, but I’m not letting that jeopardize her safety.
I search the home, which has hardly any security. I send a text message to Sky, one of the hounds, with an immediate request. I then call Izak, the hound whose strength most certainly lies behind a computer screen.
He answers on the second ring. “Quite the extensive security list you want installed in her apartment.”
“Get it done tomorrow while we’re working in her shop.”
He chuckles. “While we’re working at her shop. You already sound domesticated, brother.”
“Need I remind you that I can easily have you removed?” I grit out, sick of these little punks and their attitudes.
“Touchy. Of course, I can get it done. Wouldn’t it be easier to have her at your property, though? Why go to all of this effort?”
I cut the call. I’d already considered that myself, but as I look up at her closed door, I would’ve had to drag her kicking and screaming. At least being in her own space might offer her some type of comfort, and she should be grateful that I’m being so fucking accommodating.
I continue investigating the apartment. Her preferences, her art, the lack of food in the fridge—soaking in everything I need to know about Lily Taylor. Of course, I already know more about her than I should, since I looked into her right after she first piqued my interest almost two years ago.
A memory I’ve tried countless times to forget, but one that has lingered far more than any other, pushes its way into the front of my mind.
Luca had stormed the club, Telltale, where Ara and her friends were dancing, to take his woman home.
After I'd driven Luca and Ara back to his apartment, he'd ordered me to return to make sure her friends were okay. I’m never particularly agreeable when it comes to leaving his side, but much like now, I had no choice.
By the time I'd arrived, two of her friends were preoccupied with the men they’d chosen for the night.
Lily had been shining brightly as she'd danced and drank herself into a stupor, and the moment a guy approached her on the dance floor, and she'd stumbled back to kindly say "no, thank you," I'd already been moving through the crowd.
The little fucker had stopped persisting after I'd loomed over her back, staring at him like the Grim Reaper.
I'd thought she’d be the easiest to return home safely. From what I’d observed in our few previous interactions, she was quiet and agreeable. That night, Lily had been a reminder to never let my guard down or underestimate anyone, even if they came in such a petite package.
The memory of her soft skin pressed against me that night lives in my mind and resurfaces more frequently than it should.
Two years ago…
“You don’t really talk much, do you?” Lily asks from the back seat of my car. “How do I know you’re not kidnapping me? He wasn’t that bad looking.” She sulks, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I was definitely doing you a favor,” I reply dryly, looking through the rearview mirror. Objectively, I suppose he was handsome, but not nearly enough to match her in any regard. “Also, don’t you think you should ask that question before getting into my car?”
She casually shrugs. “I just assumed since you came with Luca, that you’re his friend.
Why? Are you going to hurt me?” Her blue eyes slice to mine through the mirror, and there’s a gentle challenge there.
My cock twitches at the temptation of all the ways it’d like to break something so precious.
But that’s the thing with this little one—she would shatter.
Crumble within seconds, even at the thought of my depravities.
“No, I’m not,” I say.
She looks down at her phone with a sigh and then turns to gaze out the window.
I can’t gauge what she’s thinking, nor do I care.
Drop her off at home—that’s all I have to do, and then I can return to Luca.
I don’t trust Ara Barone alone with him.
He might say it’s for his own entertainment and gathering intel on her, but I know there’s far more to it.
I’m uncomfortable when he doesn’t disclose all of his motivations to me.
It makes outcomes unpredictable, something I prefer to limit.
I’m the keeper of his secrets and his first weapon.
When he doesn’t depend on me… it makes me feel useless.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Lily suddenly says.
I hook a sharp turn against the curb and am out of the car in seconds, opening the back door for her. Her eyes widen at the sight of my offered hand. I'm not letting this car stink of whatever concoction of alcohol she consumed tonight.
Skeptically, she takes my hand and steps out of the car.
She looks pale… but isn’t she always pale?
Her hand is small and cold compared to mine.
As if noticing the same thing, she’s quick to remove it, a blush blossoming on her cheeks.
Shit. Too innocent. If hand-holding is taboo for this little princess, then she has no right to even step out into the real world.
“Are you a virgin?” I blurt.