Chapter 16

This home was too loud, too crowded, too foreign. I retreated to where we had detoured from.

The path to his room. Our room now. Once I stood in front of the same staircase on the left, I climbed each step eagerly to get out of the black, sleeved dress and find solace in an empty room.

A long hallway displayed three doors. The last one stood before me at the end. The master bedroom. I opened the door, and his scent hit my face.

Possessive, powerful, and cruel with a hint of smoke.

Asphyxiating.

And yet, I inhaled its danger. Allowing the sick part of me to long for what it craves.

Want.

I closed my eyes, accepting my fault, but the second I opened them, it had become a distant memory.

Instead, I focused on the layout of the bedroom. Like his scent, the black and brown tones of the darkened bedroom reflected him in the same way. Elegant and dangerous. Inviting.

A brown cashmere throw blanket, shades of black, and granite-colored pillows drowned out the white bedding's glow. Dark walls spread all around, so dark the shade of color mixed with black was unknown. I followed the walls, and the higher I looked up to the tall, vaulted ceiling, the more the illusion of a void played in my mind. The lighting wasn't strong. There were two mounted structures that acted as lamps on each side of the bed, shining their light up the walls and creating a calming atmosphere. But what I could fall asleep looking at was the long, hanging, crystal-pendant chandelier. As if large diamonds rained at different speeds. Only bright enough to showcase their beauty.

A mix of modern and classic blended flawlessly into something stunning.

Ready to discard my dress, slip inside the bed, and drain the day off my body, I searched for my bags. With no luck, I found the walk-in closet. Rows of Massimo's dress shirts, suits, and shoes lay immaculately on built-in cabinets. Nothing stood out.

A desire to find a flaw lured me closer. That's how I found a few dark jeans, workout pants, shorts, and plain tees in drawers. Neatly folded and in perfect condition. I headed to the drawer on the island, only to discover his watches and cufflinks.

Picture-fucking-perfect.

Running my finger over a detailed Mcufflink, I twisted it.

There.

Before my smile widened, I looked up. It turned out, all I had to do was look to my left.

My leather suitcases stood out along with the empty and broad space they rested before. Not one was missing, but I specifically only cared for the one that held my most prized possessions, my knives. In long strides, I met what I had left of my life, opened it, and found comfort. As I walked out of the closet, I stepped out of my heels, leaving them behind near my bags, and headed toward the bathroom.

The amount of water that poured over my body was unable to wash off the unsteady feeling of today. In the darkness, I drifted off to sleep with wet hair, questions, and fleeting feelings.

A faint rustling sound drifted me away from sleep. Slowly, my hand slipped under the pillow without a sound. Ready for a threat, I opened my eyes. They found Massimo stepping out of the bathroom with only a white towel wrapped around his hips. Under so much ink, his strong back muscles were hidden, even most of his legs. My eyes followed the leftover water that ran down his hair, neck, and arms. Massimo walked unbothered and unconcerned until the ink, his tan skin, and cut body disappeared out of view into the closet.

Relaxing once again, I peeked through the covered windows. Sunlight had not slipped through, but a ray of hope to catch sunrise did. It may have been the same sun, but it wouldn't be the same Italian morning.

The closet door cracked open, and Massimo stepped out in another full suit. It was blue. White shirt, matching vest, no tie.

No tie. Why did I notice such a detail?

Not once did he turn my way, or acknowledge I'd slept in his room, his space. He just made his way to the bedroom door and stopped once it opened.

"Breakfast will be served in an hour." His head inclined to his left, and I saw his clenched jaw. "Don't ever sleep with a weapon in my bed again."

The door shut, leaving his threat behind.

Fuck.

I stood up and tossed my pillow. My chest rose and fell with the fast beat of my heart.

It was empty.

My butterfly knife was missing.

A burning rage and blinding ire demanded its return. With a quick glance at the door, I knew the only way to get it back was through him.

The sunrise would have to wait. I had a part of me taken, and I was bound to get it back. But first, I had to dress for the façade.

Another dress and another flawless face later, I walked out of the room with my heels pronouncing each step I took. With my push dagger securely strapped to my leg, I was ready for him.

I had no clear vision of where I was headed, and after I took the last step down the stairwell, I wandered to the back of the house. The trail of plate clatters and the aroma of freshly baked pastries led my feet. Ignoring the grandly structured rooms and the detailed décor, I shadowed the path to Massimo. Two double doors were opened, and the glimpse of a chair announced my destination.

I took a deep breath before exposing my lust for pain and walked inside.

He wasn't alone.

I paid the second figure no attention, even as it stood by Massimo's side with a phone in his hand talking to him. Meanwhile, I remained by the entrance with emotions that grew stronger as I saw him.

Cruel and calculating bastard.

He sat composed and relaxed with an untouched plate of fruit at the end of the table.