Chapter 4 - Playing with Fire
By sunset the following day, my entire reality had been ripped apart and reconstructed from the ground up.
Leo had been picked up in an executive medical transport and checked into the St. Jude Specialized Recovery Pavilion—a private hillside facility with private gardens, swimming pools, and top-tier physical therapists. When he called me, sobbing with joy, telling me the doctors promised he would walk without a cane within six months, I had to bite the inside of my cheek until it bled to keep from breaking down over the phone.
“How did you do this, Mara?” he had asked, bewildered. “Where did the money come from?”
“I got an executive consulting job, Leo,” I had lied smoothly, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my new bedroom suite at the Moretti estate. “Just focus on walking. Let me handle the bills.”
Now, I was standing in front of a three-way mirror in the master dressing room, surrounded by an army of high-end stylists, tailors, and makeup artists that Adrian had summoned like an emperor demanding tribute. Racks of silk, velvet, and bespoke tailoring filled the room.
""Madame has gorgeous proportions,"" the lead French designer, Jean-Paul, declared, pinning a midnight-blue velvet gown around my waist. ""Most women starve themselves to look like coat hangers. But this... the curves, the decolletage... she will look like a Renaissance painting among modern paper dolls.""
I caught my reflection. For years, I had hidden inside dark, baggy clothes, trying to become invisible so the world wouldn't mock my softness. But the dress hugging my frame didn't hide anything. It swept low across my collarbone, cinched at my waist, and hugged my wide hips in rich, midnight-blue silk velvet that caught the light like liquid ink. My dark hair was pinned up in loose, romantic waves, framing my face, while subtle makeup highlighted my hazel eyes and full lips.
On my left ring finger, the heavy diamond felt like an anchor tying me to a storm.
The dressing room doors parted, and the stylists immediately fell silent, scattering to the edges of the room with hurried bows.
Adrian walked in. He wore a tailored tuxedo with silk lapels that broadened his already imposing silhouette. His dark hair was brushed back, neat and aristocratic, but the lethal aura surrounding him was undiminished.
He stopped five paces away from me. His gray eyes swept over me—starting from the tips of my emerald satin heels, tracing slowly up the curve of my hips, pausing at the swell of my breasts, and finally locking onto my face.
For nearly ten seconds, the man who commanded hundreds of armed killers didn't say a single word. A dark, possessive heat flared in his eyes, so raw and unfiltered that my pulse spiked in my ears.
""Leave us,"" he commanded quietly.
The stylists slipped out the side door like phantoms, clicking the lock behind them.
I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling naked despite the heavy velvet. ""Do I... look acceptable for your dinner, Mr. Moretti?""
He closed the distance between us with slow, deliberate steps until he stood mere inches away. He reached out, his warm, rough fingers tracing the exposed skin above my collarbone. A violent shiver rippled through my spine, my knees turning to jelly.
""You look breathtaking, Mara,"" he murmured, his voice husky and low. ""So breathtaking that I am having severe second thoughts about allowing other men to lay their eyes on you tonight.""
""It's just business,"" I whispered, though my voice lacked conviction.
Adrian smiled, a dangerous, thrilling tilt of his lips. He stepped closer, his chest brushing against mine, his towering height completely casting me in his shadow. ""When we enter the Castiglione estate tonight, every snake in this city will be looking for a crack in our armor. They will try to insult you, diminish you, test your nerve. They want to see if you are my weakness.""
""And what will you do if they find out I'm just a waitress playing dress-up?""
May you like
Adrian reached down, his large hand resting firmly, possessively on the curve of my hip, pulling me gently against his hard frame. The heat between us was suffocating.
""If anyone breathes a disrespectful word in your direction tonight, little bird,"" Adrian whispered against my ear, his lips grazing my skin, ""I will burn their empire to ash before dessert is served. Now let's go show them who owns this city.""
