Chapter 32

"Thank you," I whispered.

As his rigid body eased from my touch without rejecting me by moving away, I stayed. And I allowed the moment to linger.

Under the darkness, between death, wrath, and Italian words, I saw the possibility of a future with a killer.

For a moment, I allowed it.

For a moment, I grew weak.

For him.

I swear I'd lost my mind. I woke up with a smile, even in an empty bed. Today I got ready without hiding, and with a strapped knife underneath my white dress, I enjoyed each click and clack of my red bottoms. I knew, soon, they would be replaced by workout wear. Because Massimo gave in once, the second time would be easier. Or so I hoped.

There was an extra bounce of determination with each step I took downstairs. Because the high of getting my way was a feeling I could get used to. One I enjoyed, even if it felt naive.

Massimo had promised to take me into the city, and I looked forward to leaving the house. Perhaps I could get my way again under the sun instead of a veil of darkness. At this point, I would never stop trying. Addicted to the possibilities, the risks, and the chances for another moment of treaty.

Breakfast should be served soon, but I had left the coziness of the bedroom to catch him before the presence of others. To measure his mood; maybe it had lifted as mine had.

The door to his study was shut, the house was quiet without his men running in and out, and I stood still in front of the heavy wood frame.

Where was everyone?

I didn't bother to knock. I just pushed the door open and took a step inside.

My feet failed me, and my body froze at the sight.

Forget about Massimo and his mood. I was petrified by two bears that sat on each side of him.

With wide eyes, a bouncing chest, and a hammering heart, my foot slid backward.

"Don't," Massimo's calm tone assured.

Yet, nothing in me eased.

I knew their breed. Knew their protective line and their long wolf-like teeth that could tear and kill when trained. They weren't dogs. They were weapons.

Caucasian Shepherds.

One white as fresh snow, the other midnight black. Opposites in appearance but equals in threat.

They stood at attention, waiting for a command as they closely watched me.

"Massimo." My voice hitched, and their ears twitched.

"This is Wix and Vine," Massimo introduced the two wool balls of monstrosity.

I could feel his eyes on me from the middle of the room. He remained seated in front of a table with a game of chess before him. Only three moves had been made on the board, but I couldn't catch the plays. Not when I was the stranger in the room with two dogs who wouldn't take their sight away from me.

It all made sense. The lack of movement inside the home, the quiet halls. The serenity. They were inside. Even with high-maintenance training, Caucasian Shepherds could turn on anyone if they felt their owners were at risk. Always alert, always looking for danger. Never let their guard down, even at home.

As we all stood quietly growing accustomed to one another, I saw their beauty. It was brutal and yet regal against their master.

"Vadim has been keeping an eye on them since you arrived. It was time to bring them home and introduce them to you."

My eyes snapped at his cool tone, and I took the chance to look at him. A clean black dress shirt clung to his body as he sat on the leather cushion, untouched by any trace of death in his eyes or blood from the night before. Casual and detached, Massimo spoke as if my small victory from the night before in the darkness had been forgotten.

It weighed my chest down, but I couldn't concentrate on my feelings or his. The company of who he'd named Vine and Wix outweighed it all.

Massimo stood, and so did they. They followed his footsteps, and I kept my eyes on Massimo. Afraid to look down and make a rash movement.

"Don't be afraid," Massimo murmured as my eyes closed.

"I'm not."

He found humor in my words as he'd exhaled quietly through his nose.

"They are very smart."

His fingers feathered my neck before they wrapped behind its base, pulling my body closer for our bodies to meet. I liked the way he felt against me. Even enjoyed the overpowering sense he brought along.

Massimo wasn't gentle; all his movements were always harsh and direct, but something about them attracted me deeper to his roughness. He handled my body with power, and I could feel how I submitted to his controlling touch.

While in his hands, I found myself at his mercy. It was sickening how easily my body and heart betrayed me. But desire was a feeling I had been deprived of, and now, with him near, it was one I wanted to explore.

It was exhilarating. The touch of a man.

His touch.

How I felt powerless under the weight of his hand and small beneath his tall frame.

I shouldn't let it win, shouldn't allow his strength to excite me. However, as his thumb spread open, lifting my head harshly, I opened my eyes to stare at his cold and dark brown eyes.

I wanted to touch, feel, and enjoy his skin as he did mine, and it infuriated me.

I was supposed to be repulsed by him, not this.

I pulled back.

Massimo's hand fell, and his eyes narrowed.

Wix and Vine stood behind both sides of their master, waiting.

Neither of us moved, only our eyes held each other. I should have stayed, played the part. It was what I wanted and planned to do. To be vulnerable enough for him to trust me, but I wouldn't have played a part. It would have been real.

"How am I supposed to teach them who you are, and show them who is mine to protect, if you step away from my touch?" While his words were collected, I could also hear their annoyance.

"I've been patient." Massimo's tone darkened. "And I've given you time, Alessandra. Time to adjust, time to come to terms with this." His hand waved in slow circles and fell. "But right now, I'm losing my tolerance."

My head shook, listening as my pulse quickened. He didn't get it. He was a man. A boss. Massimo had nothing to fear, nothing to feel.

Could he not see the difference?

I wasn't dead inside. I felt.

And I could only allow so much because I was already broken with issues I'd never faced. I'd only hidden them. And he was the last person I should allow myself to feel with. Massimo would never care.

"Come," he ordered.

I didn't.

"Now."

My heels took one small step, and Massimo's head arched back. Our eyes fought as he waited, and I took the last step. It wasn't as close as when he held me. My approach wasn't enough for him because his hands gripped my hips forward, and my hands shot to his shoulders, holding on to him to keep my feet grounded by his pull.

Some would call this an embrace as we stood wrapped in each other, but I held on to the distance between our chests.

This couldn't be the only way to convey what he wanted for his dogs. The only way for them to trust me enough to not see me as a threat. And how could we display affection when we didn't do such a thing, and never have tried?