Marco
I didn't trust her. I wanted to. I really wanted to. But something about Leona never quite added up. She was too guarded, too careful, as if she were always one step ahead, as if she were playing a game where only she knew the rules. And I didn't like that. Not one bit.
Because I plan to tell her she's mine. Whether she admitted it or not, whether she fucking liked it or not, she belonged to me.
So why the hell was she with Dante Moretti?
I gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white, the memory searing through my brain like a hot brand. I had followed her tonight. Not because I was paranoid. Not because I doubted her. But because I needed to know her whereabouts. And now? I wished I hadn't seen it.
Seen her standing there with him. Dante, that prick that took my goods and never wanted me to settle. I knew the struggle and the millions it cost me to get that goods and he took it from me, shutting me out even. And now, he was stealing something else. Something far more important. I clenched my jaw so hard it ached. Was she working with him? Betraying me?
I had let her in. I had trusted her, at least as much as I trusted anyone.And now, I was starting to think that trust had been a fucking mistake. The door creaked open, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Leona stepped inside, her brows pulling together in confusion. "You wanted to see me?"
I studied her. She was calm. Like she didn't just spend the evening with the one man I wanted dead.
I gestured to the chair in front of my desk. "Sit."
She hesitated. "I'm tired, Marco. Can this wait?"
"No."
She let out a small sigh before reluctantly dropping into the chair.
I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees. "Where were you tonight?"
Her posture stiffened slightly, but her expression remained unreadable. "Out."
I smiled, slow and humorless. "Out?"
She shrugged. "Yes. Out."
I exhaled through my nose, feeling the heat of my anger flaring under the surface.
"I don't like lies, Leona."
She rolled her eyes. "Then it's a good thing I'm not lying."
I studied her again. The way she crossed her legs, the way her fingers tapped against the armrest of the chair.
Defensive. Guarded. I see.
"Who were you with?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm.
She met my gaze. "Why does it matter?"
I let out a sharp laugh. "Why does it matter?" I repeated, tilting my head. "Let's see, maybe because the last person I saw you with was Dante fucking Moretti."
For the first time, her mask slipped. A sign of shock, guilt, something else entirely passed through her eyes before she quickly recovered. I grinned. Got you.
"That's what this is about?" she scoffed. "You think I'm working with Dante?"
I leaned back in my chair, watching her carefully. "Should I?"
Her jaw clenched. "You're paranoid."
"Maybe." I rested my hands on the desk. "Or maybe I don't like seeing my woman with my enemy."
She let out a bitter laugh. "I'm not your woman, Marco."
The possessiveness inside me flared. I reached out, grabbing her chin between my fingers, forcing her to look at me.
"Then whose are you?" I murmured.
Her lips parted, her breath hitching. She didn't answer.
I smirked. "That's what I thought."
I let her go, leaning back.
She rubbed her chin, glaring at me. "I'm not working with Dante."
"But you're hiding something," I countered.
She tensed. I could see it in her eyes, the way they changed for half a second, the way her muscles went rigid. She was hiding something, and I was going to find out what. I stood up, rounding the desk slowly, until I was standing directly behind her chair.
She stayed still. Unmoving. But I could feel the tension radiating off of her. I leaned down, my mouth just inches from her ear.
"If I ever find out you're lying to me…" I whispered, my voice laced with quiet menace, "I won't be forgiving."
I felt her breath hitch again. Good. Let her be scared. Let her understand that this wasn't a game. I straightened, stepping back, waiting for her reaction. She didn't give me one. Instead, she stood, turned, and met my gaze head-on. And then, with a smirk that sent something dark and wild through my veins, she said:
"Good thing you won't find out, then."
And just like that, she walked out. Leaving me standing there, fists clenched, heart pounding.