PART 8:

I was in Christian Lombardo’s bed. He’d made love to me like I was the most precious thing in his world. He told me he wanted me to stay, not just for the night, but always. Always. The words still echoed in my head. Impossible and wonderful. But in the growing light of day, reality started creeping back in.

I was his secretary. This was my boss. Yes, we’d crossed a line last night. But what did that mean for Monday morning for every day after? How did this work in the real world? And more than that, his world, the violence, the danger, the illegality of everything he did. Could I really live in that world? Could I look the other way when he did things that went against everything I believed in? The bathroom door opened and Christian emerged looking thunderous.

He was already pulling on clothes, his movements sharp with controlled anger. I have to go, he said, and I heard the frustration in his voice. There’s a situation at one of the warehouses. I need to handle it personally. What kind of situation? I asked, sitting up, holding the sheet to my chest. He paused in the act of buttoning his shirt, his eyes meeting mine.

The kind I don’t want to involve you in. The kind that’s better if you don’t know the details. There it was, the line between his world and mine, stark and unavoidable in the morning light. Christian, I know. He came back to the bed, cupped my face in his hands. I know this is complicated. I know you’re probably having second thoughts in the cold light of day.

But Olivia, please don’t pull away from me. Don’t disappear while I’m gone. I’m not going anywhere. I said, even though part of me wanted to run uts, what it looks like going forward, we will. he promised. As soon as I get back, I’ll clear my entire day. We’ll talk about everything, figure this all out together.

He kissed me hard and possessive, stay here, order breakfast, take a bath, go through my closet, and find something to wear. Just be here when I get back. Okay, I whispered. He left and I was alone in his penthouse, surrounded by his things, his scent, the lingering warmth of his touch. I got up, wrapped myself in his robe again, and wandered through his private space like a ghost, trying to find evidence that last night had been real.

The party debris was still visible in the main suite. Champagne glasses and discarded napkins, reminders of the celebration I’d missed. the celebration where Christian had realized I was gone and come looking for me. I found myself back in his office, the place where I’d spent so much time over the past 2 years. My desk was exactly as I’d left it, neat and organized, a monument to my invisibility.

But now I saw it differently. Now I knew Christian had been watching me here, wanting me, fighting his desire for me while I did the same. The contracts were still on his desk where I’d left them. My color-coded notes still attached. I picked up the top one, saw his handwriting on the post-it. Handle when you have time.

Not urgent. Enjoy your holiday. CL. Handle when you have time. Not tonight. He’d never meant for me to sacrifice my New Year’s Eve. I’d done that all on my own. Assuming I had to prove my worth. assuming I was only valuable for what I could do for him. But he’d seen me. He’d always seen me.

I just hadn’t believed I was worth seeing. You’re still here. I spun around to find Marcus in the doorway, looking surprised and slightly uncomfortable. His eyes took in my appearance, Christian’s robe, my disheveled hair. An understanding dawned on his face. “Oh,” he said. “Oh.” I felt my cheeks burn. Marcus, no, it’s fine. It’s just unexpected.

He shifted awkwardly. The boss sent me to check on you. He was worried you might have left while he was dealing with the warehouse issue. He sent you to babysit me. I couldn’t keep the irritation out of my voice. Marcus held up his hands defensively. His words were, “Make sure Olivia has everything she needs, not babysit.

Though between you and me, I’ve never seen him like this. He called me three times on his way to the warehouse just to confirm you were still in the building. Something warm unfurled in my chest. Really? Really? In 20 years of knowing Christian Lombardo, I’ve never seen him panic. Not once. Not even when the feds raided his offices last year.

But the thought of you leaving, he was practically vibrating with anxiety. Marcus smiled. Whatever happened last night, it changed something in him. It changed something in both of us, I admitted quietly. Marcus studied me for a moment, then nodded. Good. He needs someone like you, someone real, someone who sees him as a man, not just a boss or a meal ticket.

The things he does, Marcus, the business, I know about it. I’ve always known and you’re still here. Marcus pointed out that says something about you or about how you feel about him. I don’t know if I can live in that world. I confessed. I don’t know if I’m strong enough. The fact that you’re worried about it means you are.

Marcus said it’s the people who don’t question it who you have to worry about. Look, I’m not going to pretend Christian’s world is safe or legal or easy. It’s not. But I’ve watched him build an empire from nothing. Watched him protect the people he cares about with everything he has. If you’re his Olivia, he’ll move heaven and earth to keep you safe.

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