Thirty Three.
"Miss Cross," His rich accent sweeps over me and I pause typing to turn my head and gaze at him.
Instantly my breath catches when our eyes collide. He looks handsome this morning and I pull my bottom lip in between my teeth full of arousal as my eyes slowly travel up his body.
Black Italian oxford dress shoes, draped by grey slacks hugging his muscular thighs, a crimson red tie over his white long sleeve shirt and a grey vest matching the colour of his pants.
"Come to my office in two minutes." He requests standing outside my office door.
I open my mouth to reply but quickly clamp it shut as he doesn't bother to wait for my answer and walks into his office.
I look over my computer, discreetly watching through the window between our offices as he hangs up his jacket he has draped over his forearm and sits behind his desk.
My eyes shift to the photo I have of Sandro next to my computer and I let out a sigh full of misery. I rang Aces phone every five minutes before I fell asleep while watching,
'How to get away with murder'
It's quite ironic as I've committed some heinous acts over my life, including being tricked into shooting someone in the head.
I've already gotten away with his murder as the Mc Carthy family never reported it to the police which is to be expected with the mafia.
Everything is always hush, hush and you only ever get the police involved to do the dirty work that can't be carried out by yourself.
I push back in my chair, picking up my phone and I make my way into his office, standing on the threshold as I wait for him to notice me.
His gaze is deeply fixed on the file in front of him, "Close the door behind you and take a seat." He says sternly, his eyes never meeting mine.
The air in his office has a certain strain to it, and I quickly become curious as to why he has summoned me to his office this early in the morning.
There are no meetings scheduled for today as he likes to keep the 18th of every month free.
I take my seat, "Is everything okay?"
He slides the file towards me. (No!) "Hayir!" He answers with a sneer. "After seeing you so torn up yesterday, I went ahead and did a deep dive on the man that left your apartment."
"You did what?" I cry out, snatching the file from his desk.
I rapidly examine the first page and let the folder fall from my grasp, spilling the papers everywhere.
Tears fill my eyes.
It's over.
He knows who Castello is.
"He is a member of the Esposito family." He spits out with utter disgust, rising from his chair and he stands in front of me.
Looking down at me from the tip of his nose.
"I can explain," my voice breaks.
"Explain what, Miss Cross. That you have deceived me right from the start or that you intended to seduce me and take my designs-"
"No, I.. uh."
(No) "Hayir, what. Mila?" He snarls.
I snap my head up at the sound of my name leaving his lips. The realisation of him saying my birth name is like a bucket of ice water being poured over my feverish body.
His hands are fisted at his sides, and his posture is predatory and menacing. He doesn't look like he will fall for the bullshit I was planning to feed him. And I fear, knowing that I am about to crumble under his severe scrutiny.
So I do what I do best.
I push myself out of my chair and rush towards the door. Turning the handle as I yank it open and cry out when he slams it shut.
He presses his body against mine, crushing me against the door as his hand snakes around my waist, his fingers splayed across my abdomen.
"I told you yesterday that if you run, I will only catch you, kedi yavrusu." (Kitten) He sighs out. "We haven't finished talking, so I suggest you turn around and sit back down if you know what's good for you."
He spins me around so that I am facing him. Guilt and terror pound into me, forcing me to shift my head to the side, unwilling to meet his gaze.
I am caught in the crossfire of two realities.
Held captive in one, and restrained in the other.
"I can't give you the answers you want, Mr Burak."
"So it's true. You were sent here to seduce and steal from me?" He says roughly.
The door behind me creeks as he leans in closer. "I will make your life a living hell. I can only assume they have targeted me to get to Sedar?"
"I don't think you can make my life worse than it already is."
"And whys that?" His eyes narrow into thin slits.
"Because I don't value my life enough to care. It's the life of another for why I'm doing this." I turn my head and look at him. "So you can rain hell on me all you want, Mr Burak. But the truth is, it won't matter because I've been living in hell for many years. My mind, body, heart and soul have all been through the wringer. I've been subjected to more shit than your mind could possibly imagine." Surprisingly my voice remains strong as I continue to talk.
"Well, when you fuck an Italian mobster what do you expect? Chocolates and roses?." He says sarcastically with his lips curving upwards.
I shove him.
He doesn't move, continuing to stand there like a brick wall and it bothers me.
I shove him again, and again and again...
Finally, he flinches and stumbles back a foot or two. Amusement dances in his gloriously mesmerising eyes.
"If you really want to know the answers to your questions, I suggest you do a deeper dive and when you find what you're looking for or maybe stumble across something you'd never expect to find... Don't come looking for me." I leave his office and walk into mine, slamming the door as I turn the lock.
I sit down and immediately the phone begins to ring and I ignore it. Turning away from my desk I face the wall and wrap my hands around my face, determined not to break down and cry.
A tapping sound on the glass echoes in the room, getting more persistent the longer I ignore it and the phone continues to ring mercilessly.
I pick it up.
"Yes, Mr Burak," I say, bracing myself to be instructed to collect my things and to get out of his building.
"We aren't done talking, we'll continue this conversation later on. In the meantime make reservations at the seafood bar along the waterfront for two at 6 pm."
"Dinner for two, at the waterfront." I grab a pen and write it down.
A pang of jealousy nags at me with the thought of him having dinner with another female.
(Yes.) "Evet, so meet me downstairs at 5 p.m. to ensure we arrive on time for our reservation. I will spend the remainder of the day upstairs." He then hangs up.
