PART 3:

Why would you stay? I told everyone they could leave at 5. Because you left me those contracts. because I thought you needed them done. Because I’m invisible and I thought if I left them unfinished, you might finally see me. And what you’d see would be disappointment. I couldn’t say any of that. So I said nothing.

Christian studied my face for a long moment, and I saw the exact instant he understood. His expression went carefully blank, the way it did when he was processing something that threatened his control. The contracts, he said. You stayed to handle the contracts. I nodded. Olivia. He crouched in front of me, bringing us to eye level.

And the gentleness in his voice undid something in my chest. Those contracts were for next week. The note on them said to handle them when you had time. Not tonight. Never tonight. I stared at him, feeling something crack inside. But you wrote I wrote that you could take care of them after the holiday. He reached up, brushed a strand of wet hair from my face with fingers that trembled slightly.

I never meant for you to give up your New Year’s Eve. I thought I assumed you had plans. Someone waiting for you. The laugh that escaped me was broken. No, no one’s waiting for me. Something flickered in his eyes, too quick to identify. Then he stood. All business again. We need to get you out of these wet clothes.

Can you manage or do you need help? The thought of Christian Lombardo undressing me sent a bolt of heat through my frozen body. I can manage. I’ll be right outside. Call if you need anything. He paused at the door, his hand on the frame. And Olivia, you’re not invisible to me. You never have been. Then he was gone, leaving me alone with the sound of running water and the echo of words I didn’t know how to process.

I managed to peel off my frozen clothes with shaking hands, wincing as feelings started to return to my extremities in painful prickles. The shower was almost too hot against my ice cold skin, but I forced myself under the spray, letting the heat slowly work its way back into my bones. Through the steam, I could see Christian’s bathroom, all black marble and chrome, a bathroom that probably cost more than my yearly salary.

This was his private space, intimate and personal, and I was standing naked in his shower on New Year’s Eve while he waited outside. Nothing about this night made sense anymore. When I finally emerged, wrapped in the plush robe Christian had left hanging on the door. I found him sitting on his bed, staring at his hands.

He’d changed into dry clothes, black jeans, and a dark henley that showed off the tattoos on his forearms. Without the armor of his suits, he looked almost human, almost approachable. Then he looked up and the intensity in his gaze reminded me exactly who he was. “Better?” he asked. I nodded suddenly hyper aware that I was naked under his robe, that my hair was dripping water onto his floor, that we were alone in his bedroom while a party raged somewhere beyond these walls. “Sit.

” He gestured to the chair by his fireplace, which I only now noticed was lit. Flames dancing behind the glass. I’m making you tea. You don’t have to sit, Olivia. Not a request. I sat, watched him move to a small kitchenet area I hadn’t noticed, efficiently preparing tea like he did this every day.

His movements were precise, controlled, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the rigid set of his jaw. He was still angry, not at me, at himself. When he brought me the tea, our fingers brushed, and I felt that same electric shock from earlier. His eyes held mine for a beat too long before he pulled away, settling into the chair across from me.

“I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice low. “And I need you to be honest with me.” I wrapped my hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth. Okay. How often do you stay late because you think I need something done urgently? I didn’t answer immediately and his expression darkened. How often, Olivia? Most nights, I admitted quietly.

Most nights, he repeated it like the words tasted bitter. And tonight on New Year’s Eve, you stayed because you thought I needed contracts handled that weren’t even urgent. I just wanted to do a good job. a good job. He laughed, but there was no humor in it. You do an exceptional job. You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had.

You anticipate my needs before I know I have them. You handle crises without breaking a sweat. You make my life run smoothly in ways I don’t even notice because you’re that good at your job. I felt warmth that had nothing to do with the tea spread through my chest. But somewhere along the line, he continued, his voice dropping.

I made you feel like you had to sacrifice everything, including your own safety, to please me, and that’s unacceptable. Christian, do you know what went through my mind when I saw you out there? He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and the raw emotion in his face took my breath away. I thought I was too late.

I thought I’d lost you before I even He stopped himself, jaw clenching. The fire light cast shadows across his features, highlighting the sharp angles, the darkness in his eyes. Before you even what, I whispered. For a long moment, he just looked at me. Then he stood abruptly, pacing to the window. I realized 3 hours into that god-forsaken party that you weren’t there, that I hadn’t seen you leave.

👉 [Tap here for the Next Part ] 👈