23. Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Three
Emilia
R ough hands softly brush the hair from my face before sliding down my exposed back, stirring me into that half-awake, half-asleep level of consciousness. A sigh of contentment slips free as I snuggle down into the bed even more.
I smell coffee and a woody spice that is uniquely Vincenzo, as he leans down from where he sits on the edge of the bed to kiss my cheek.
I crack open the one eye not smooshed into the pillow and see his damp hair falling over his brow as he rests his chin on my shoulder, and runs his hand down the arm I have hanging over the side of the bed to entwine our fingers.
“I have never wished to laze in bed more, than this very moment,” he whispers, before feathering soft kisses over my shoulder and down my back.
I practically purr at the attention and attempt to roll over to face him.
His hand gently presses down between my shoulder blades, stopping the movement though, as he releases my hand and sits up.
I lift my head slightly and notice he is dressed for the office, full suit and tie, which makes me pout.
Clearly this is not going to be the wake-up call I was hoping for.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yes, everything’s fine. That call I got last night was just about one of the worksites, and I have to head in early to deal with it.”
“M’kay. Give me ten and I’ll be out of your hair.” I close my eyes and silently will my body to move without success. It’s like the bed is holding me hostage.
“No,” he says with a low chuckle as he applies a little pressure to his hand on my back to keep me still. “Stay. It’s five a.m. The sun isn’t even up yet. And you didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night.”
I open my eyes again, lifting my brow at his self-satisfied smirk when I don’t argue. I am deliciously sore all in the right places, and in truth I could use a few more hours of rest.
“I just didn’t want you to wake alone and wonder where I’d gone.” He lifts my arm that was still hanging off the bed and brings it up to his face. He kisses each finger then the back of my hand, before tucking it under my chin.
“Could have left a note,” I say through a stifled yawn. I can feel my eyelids grow heavy.
“Okay, next time I’ll just leave a note.”
“Mighty cocky of you to think there will be a next time,” I mumble as my eyes droop closed.
The bed shifts again with his weight as he leans in and kisses my forehead, then pulls the blanket that is pooled at my lower back up to my shoulders.
“I always get what I want. Now sleep, sweet Emilia. Dream of colour. I’ll call you later.”
I can’t open my eyes, but I feel his presence leave the room. The door clicks closed softly, and I drift off again to the sound of his footsteps on the stairs.
Faint sounds of the outside world stir my consciousness a while later.
Bright sun filters through the tinted windows, flooding the room with light as I roll over and take in my surroundings for the first time.
It was dark when Vincenzo led me up here last night, and my focus was definitely not on the large open space.
I sit up slowly, taking in the masculine and minimalist decor, which looks straight out of a magazine, that would otherwise make the room seem cold.
But the splashes of colour from the various art pieces that hang on the walls give it a personal touch that is uniquely him .
From my vantage point in the middle of a sea of white linen bedding, I can just make out the edges of large gilt frames in the hallway, outside the bedroom door.
I shake my head in disbelief. I had been so completely distracted that I didn’t even notice them as we made our way upstairs, but then again, my focus had been otherwise well occupied. I smirk to myself as the memories from last night filter through my mind.
I stretch my arms out, my attention is pulled away from the incredible art as my hand brushes over the pillow beside me, and I hear the distinct crinkle of paper. My smirk grows to a full-blown grin when I spot the torn page sitting under a single red rose.
Oh, I do enjoy watching you sleep, Kitten. I left a little something for you downstairs. Xo
I scamper off the bed and find the bathroom behind the first sliding door I check.
I rush through a shower and hope that Vincenzo won’t mind me taking the liberties in his space.
With no idea where my panties ended up, my cheeks heat as I make the walk of panty-less shame down the stairs.
On tiptoes, I walk with my shoes in hand, in case Vincenzo is home, but my soft calls of his name go unanswered.
A memory of my panties being torn from my body in the gallery room brings a smile to my face, but I opt out of going to search for them.
It feels like an invasion of privacy when I still don’t know Vincenzo all that well.
Instead, I head towards the kitchen. A more neutral space.
As I wander past the elevator doors my eyes are drawn to the dinner table.
My bowl of spaghetti still sits mostly full with half a glass of wine next to it and my napkin on the floor.
I bite my lower lip seeing the disarray of Vincenzo’s place, half full bowl and empty glass scattered across the table from where he brushed it all aside to lay me down and turn our romantic dinner into a feast. I shake my head to clear my thoughts, the tingle of arousal starting all over again just at the memory and turn towards the kitchen.
I head straight for the fridge in the hopes of at least some bottled water when I notice another rose on the counter.
I pick up the stem with a smile and lift it to my face, breathing the sweet perfume in.
My eyes catch on my phone connected to a charging cable on the bench, a glass covered platter next to it with various muffins.
The full battery symbol on the phone screen shows when I tap it, indicating it has been on the charge for a little while, but also that my phone is still off.
I was so caught up in our date I forgot to turn it back on after dinner.
I push the button on the side before heading back to the fridge while it turns on.
I weigh my options between water and juice when my phone starts to buzz with incoming notifications at an alarming rate, but they cut off a moment later when an incoming call sounds.
I let out a sigh when I see Silas’ name light up the screen.
Between him and Javier both trying to call me last night, I’d decided to be selfish for a change and not let them ruin what turned out to be a pretty amazing night.
Swept up in my memories again, I barely notice the call rings out until the screen lights up again with Silas’ name.
“Good morn-”
“For fucks sake, Emmy, where the hell have you been all night? I have been callin’ and callin’, but your phone just kept goin’ to voicemail.”
“What the hell, Si,” I growl back, annoyed at his tone and how his tone bursts my happy little bubble.
“My phone died. I had a headache and went to bed early. I plugged my phone in but didn’t turn it back on before I fell asleep.
” The lie rolls off my tongue so easily.
“I didn’t mean to worry you. I only just got up.
Your call came through pretty much the second I turned it back on. ”
“You only just got up? It’s after ten where you are. You never sleep that late. Are you comin’ down with somethin’?” his voice softens with genuine concern.
“I’m fine,” I rush out, guilt gnaws at me for the worry my lie causes. “Just all those sleepless nights catching up with me, I think. Honestly, I’m good. I’m going to grab something to eat and then head into the studio to work on the Monet.”
“That’s why I was callin’ you, cher. The buyer is fuckin’ losin’ their mind, Emmy. The piece was meant to be done weeks ago. They are threatenin’ to pull out of the deal.”
“Honestly, Si, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. I am finding it so hard to work, and my heart just isn’t in it right now. Let’s offer them a full refund and maybe throw in one of the pieces I have in storage as an apology. It won’t be the Monet, but it might be enough to-”
“Emilia,” he cuts in. The use of my full name has my back up. “These are not the kind of people you just offer a refund and an apology to, and they move on.”
“I know that, Si-”
“No, I don’t think you understand. These are the kind of people who you don’t get to disappoint twice, yeah?
They don’t give second chances. It’s not just that they will tell everyone that you can’t deliver on a contract, but they might try and take away your opportunity to deliver on any contracts in the future.
Ever .” The threat is clear in the words he doesn’t say, genuine fear in his voice.
“Jesus, Si. What am I supposed to do?”
“I have bought you the rest of the week. That’s it. No more extensions. If that paintin’ is not in their hands, and perfect, by midnight on Saturday then there is nothin’ either of us can do. No place we can hide. You hear me?”
“I hear you. FUCK!” I shout and slam my hand down on the counter in frustration.
“I hear you, Si. I’m so sorry. It should never have come to this, and it is all my fault.
Now you are in danger, too? God.. I just..
. I’m so fucking sorry. But I’ll fix it, okay?
I’ll work night and day and get it done and ready for pick up on Saturday.
Can you arrange a courier to collect it from the gallery? ”
“Yes, fine. But Emmy, I need you to really hear me. You cannot be late with this delivery. I will have the courier there at three p.m. It's the latest they can pick up and get the delivery completed in time.”
“I hear you, Si. I swear, it will be ready.”
“Okay. Speak soon.” He hangs up before I get the chance to apologise again.
I wipe my hand down my face, flooded with guilt.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me. This isn’t me.
I have always put my work first. I’ve worked so hard to build up my reputation, Silas by my side the whole way, and I am destroying it all.
For what? A man who I thought had something to do with my father’s death?
If I am being honest with myself, I stopped believing that before I came here last night.
What started as an investigation has quickly become an obsession.
I may still be learning about him, but I know in my gut that Vincenzo is not responsible for what happened.
He isn’t the kind of person who would poison a man and then go date his grieving daughter.
He may want to buy the gallery but fucking me isn’t going to get him that sale.
And it isn’t how he would want to win. I know that much.
That doesn’t mean his family isn’t guilty, I’m not that naive, but I can’t see Vincenzo being a party to what happened.
For now, that knowledge will have to be enough. I need to get my focus back on what matters most. Get this commission done and find out who killed my father.
I grab my purse and shoes. I am tempted to grab a muffin for the road when my phone screen lights up again but this time with Javier’s name this time.
I reject the call and hurry to the lift.
I don’t have time for his needy drama right now.
I shoot off a quick text to Vincenzo to let him know something has come up and I will be out of contact for a few days for work while I wait for the lift to arrive.
My phone lights up again as I step into the elevator, a smile on my lips as I go to answer Vincenzo’s call, but it is cut off when the doors close.
I decide it’s for the best that I don't let him distract me again, so I silence my phone and put it in my purse.
I pull my shoes on as the lift heads back down to the lobby, where I ask the concierge to call me a taxi.
I sit in the backseat of the taxi once it arrives as we speed back to the apartment, determination ignited within me. I can make it up to Vincenzo when my work is done.