His Virgin Stripper

31- Mine Before the Ink

Marcello

Sienna’s eyes snapped toward the heavy door behind her once more.

Her shoulders went rigid under her top. Her chin dropped just a fraction. A physical acknowledgment of the reality she was trapped in.

Then she seemed to remember the heavy mechanical snap from a few minutes ago. The sound of the deadbolt sliding home when my hand went under the desk.

There was no way out. No back exit. No Roxy to hide behind. Just the two of us in a sealed room.

She turned her head back to face me. Her chest heaved. The movement was fast and erratic, a frantic rhythm against her collarbones. I stood still, watching the pulse point in her throat throb against her skin.

She closed her eyes. She squeezed them shut, holding them like that for three long beats. She was fighting herself. Forcing the hysteria back down into her stomach before it choked her.

When she finally opened her eyes, the wild panic was gone. Not completely. But it had hardened into something else.

Defiance.

Her hands dug into the sleeves of her shirt, her fingernails clawing the fabric like an anchor.

"Are we still talking about that right now?"

Her voice shook. She tried to steady it, tried to inject some venom into the words, but the tremor broke through anyway.

She took another uneven breath. Her gaze flickered down, avoiding my eyes, settling on the front of my dress shirt.

"You just said you're a m—" She stopped. Her jaw tightened. "A m— Mafia Don.”

The title came out broken. Her tongue tripping over the syllables like her brain was still rejecting the data. It didn't fit her view of the world. It didn't fit the man who had handed her a card in a dark basement.

"You never told me that," Her voice grew louder, fueled by the unfairness of the trap. "How was I to know? Was I supposed to look at you and just guess that?"

A calm chuckle escaped my throat. It was a low, gravelly vibration that barely cut through the quiet of the office.

I didn't find her fear funny. I found her logic fascinating. She was trying to apply normal rules to a world that didn't use them.

I pushed my weight off the edge of the mahogany desk. My tailored trousers shifted easily as I moved closer to my table slowly.

I didn't rush. Inside this room, time belonged to me. Every second was under my control, and I wanted her to feel the weight of it.

I reached down to the corner of the desk. My fingers wrapped around a bound document with a stark, dark cover.

It was the physical proof of the boundaries she’d spent years building around herself. Boundaries I intended to tear down.

I held it loosely as I crossed to the private seating area, passed the three plush cushions, and stopped at the edge of the low marble table.

"You didn't ask."

My voice was flat. Smooth. I kept my eyes locked directly onto her face as I dropped the dark-covered document onto the center of the marble surface.

Thud.

The sound was heavy. Cutting through the silence like a closing latch.

Sienna went completely quiet.

The arguments she had been building in her head seemed to evaporate on the spot. Her expression went blank.

Her mouth parted slightly, her lips frozen mid-breath. I had just wiped the script straight out of her hand. She hadn't expected an answer that basic. She wanted a speech, and I had given her three words of cold reality.

She stood there, the silence stretching out between us for five long seconds while she searched for a counter-move.

"That's it?" Her brow furrowed, a sharp line cutting between her eyes.

I gave her a single dip of my chin. The truth didn't need a defense.

She let out a sharp, frustrated breath through her nose. Her eyes darted down to the document on the marble, then snapped back up to my face.

"So you couldn't even mention it in any of our discussions? Not once? When we were in your basement? In my room? You didn't think that was a vital piece of information to throw in?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning my weight onto one leg. I let my eyes trace the tension in her jaw.

"What kind of don goes around telling anyone who he is?"

The question wasn't a joke. It was the fundamental rule of the life I lived. You don't advertise the shadow you cast.

You don't hand your identity to strangers unless those strangers are already bought, paid for, or marked for a six foot hole in the ground. You keep the mask on until the door is locked.

Sienna’s jaw tightened. She swallowed hard, her throat moving as she processed the words. After a long beat, she gave a slow, reluctant nod.

"That…" Her lips pressed together for a half second. "Okay. That actually makes sense."

The admission tasted like poison. I could see it in the way her mouth twisted. She hated that her ignorance was the only shield she had left, and it was completely useless against the man standing in front of her.

Her gaze drifted away from my face. It tracked downward, sliding past my chest until it finally caught on the object sitting between the three big cushions.

The dark-covered document seemed to pull all the light out of the room. Her body stiffened all over again. Whatever tiny bit of ground she had gained by rationalizing my title was gone, crushed by the weight of the paper on the marble.

"What is that?" Her voice dropped to a low whisper.

It was a stupid question, and she knew it.

I tilted my head slightly to the side, keeping my expression entirely flat. I didn't give her an answer because the room didn't need one.

We weren't in this office to discuss the security layout. We were here to sign the paperwork that had been drafted the second she took my card.

She read the silence perfectly. She took a step back, her boots dug into the rug, her arms wrapping even tighter around her middle. She was trying to shrink. Trying to put distance between her skin and the table.

"I'm not signing it," Her voice was firmer this time. The tremor was gone, replaced by a stubborn, hard line along her jaw. "I don't care what's written in there. I am not signing my name to anything belonging to a... to someone like you. I'm not doing it."

I let out a slow, heavy breath through my nose. The slight amusement left my chest.

I took one more step forward, clearing the distance between the table and her body. I towered over her, my shadow blotting out the light from the desk lamp, my eyes burning down into hers.

"The day I gave you to think about it is over."

My voice dropped into that cold, quiet register that didn't allow for arguments."That was your window, Sienna."

Her lips parted.

"It's closed now.”