CHAPTER 3
1213 Words
Kylie POV
I did not know what I expected when I stepped into Antonio’s world, but it was not this.
A woman stood in front of us. Tall, elegant, dressed like she walked out of a magazine cover. Her dress hugged her figure like it had been sewn on her skin. Her makeup was perfect, lips sharp red and eyes that looked like they had never known softness.
Her gaze slid over me slowly. Not curious. Not surprised.
Judging.
She was beautiful in the way expensive things are beautiful. Flawless. Cold. Untouchable.
I felt suddenly aware of everything I was wearing. Shoes that were coming apart on the inside. A shirt that had been washed too many times. Hair frizzy from the long day. Hands that still smelled faintly of yeast and bread.
She was the kind of woman who lived in his world.
I was the girl who served bread behind a broken counter.
She looked at me like she already knew who I was.
Nobody.
Antonio’s jaw tightened. Only slightly, but I saw it.
“What are you doing here, Bianca?” he asked.
Her smile widened, slow and confident. “Your gate staff still remembers me. They did not think it was a problem to let me in.”
Antonio’s eyes turned cold. “I will handle them.”
She shrugged, like it did not matter. Her eyes returned to me. “So. You work here now.”
I did not speak. If I opened my mouth, I might break.
Antonio stepped slightly in front of me. Not blocking me completely. But enough.
Possessive. Protective. It startled something inside my chest.
“Her employment has nothing to do with you,” he said.
Bianca laughed. The kind of laugh women like her use when they believe they are above everything. “Of course not. I just find it interesting. You usually like your women glossier.”
Heat rose in my chest. Shame. Embarrassment. Anger. I did not know which first.
Antonio’s voice was calm. Too calm. “We are done here. Leave.”
Bianca’s eyes flashed. There it was. The first c***k in her perfect surface.
“Do you think she will survive here?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes sharp. “Do you think she can handle your world, Antonio? She looks like she might cry if someone raises their voice.”
I swallowed hard. I refused to look weak. Not in front of her. Not in front of him.
“I am not as breakable as I look,” I said.
Her eyes flicked to mine. Assessing. Measuring.
Then, her smile disappeared.
“We will see,” she murmured.
She turned and walked away, heels clicking on marble floors like a clock counting down something I could not yet understand.
The moment the door shut behind her, I let out a breath I did not know I was holding.
Antonio looked at me. Really looked at me.
“Do not think about her,” he said. “She is part of a world you are not required to engage with.”
His voice was steady. But something was underneath it. Tension. Memory. Something like regret.
“Was she your girlfriend?” I asked before I could stop myself.
His jaw tightened again.
“She wanted to be,” he said. “But I do not do relationships.”
That answer should have made everything clear.
It did not.
Instead, my heart beat faster.
I followed him through the house. The floors were polished marble. Light spilled through high windows. Everything smelled of quiet money, old wealth, and something colder underneath.
A house this large should feel full.
It felt empty.
“Your room is here,” Antonio said, stopping at a door on the east side of the hallway.
He opened it. The space inside was bigger than my entire apartment. A window overlooked the city. The bed looked soft enough to sink into forever. A closet with empty hangers. Waiting for clothes I did not have.
My throat ached.
“This is for me?” I asked.
“Yes.”
No hesitation. No uncertainty.
I stepped in slowly, like I might break the room just by breathing.
He watched me. Not in a distant way. Not like I was a responsibility or a charity case.
Something else.
Something that made it hard to breathe.
“I do not know how to thank you,” I whispered.
His expression shifted. His eyes darkened, but not with anger. Something warmer. More dangerous.
“You do not need to thank me,” he said.
And then he stepped closer.
Not close enough to touch me.
But close enough that I could feel the heat from his body.
Close enough that I had to tilt my chin up to keep his gaze.
Close enough that my pulse jumped.
“Do you understand something, Kylie?” he asked quietly.
I nodded. “What?”
“You are safe here.”
The words hit me harder than I expected.
Safe.
No one had said that to me in a long time.
I felt something break inside me. Not in a painful way. More like a dam loosening. Like breath filling spaces that had been empty for too long.
I nodded. “Okay.”
His eyes dropped to my mouth.
For a second, the world held still.
I could feel it. The pull. The gravity. The awareness between us.
His hand lifted. Slowly. He touched my chin lightly. Just his fingertips.
My skin shivered.
My breath caught.
If he leaned forward one inch, his mouth would be on mine.
I wanted him to.
I should not have.
He pulled back suddenly. Like something snapped inside him.
“You should rest,” he said, voice lower now. Rougher. “Dinner is at eight.”
He turned and walked out.
Leaving me standing there with my heart pounding in my throat.
When the door closed, silence filled the room again.
But I did not feel alone.
I felt watched.
Not in a frightening way.
In a way that made every nerve under my skin feel awake.
I sat on the bed.
The mattress dipped.
I sank.
My hands trembled.
I had entered this house expecting a job.
Not this.
Not him.
Not the way he looked at me like I mattered.
Not the way his presence filled a room like gravity.
Not the way my body reacted to him without permission.
I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
My life had changed in one afternoon.
My heart was changing too. Slowly. Quietly. Carefully.
And that scared me more than anything else.
Because men like Antonio do not love.
And girls like me do not survive wanting them to.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
I sat up.
The door opened.
A woman stood there.
She was not Bianca.
But her eyes held the same cruelty.
She smiled.
“Antonio did not tell you everything,” she said.
My chest tightened. “What do you mean?”
She stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind her.
“You are not the first girl he has brought here to save,” she said.
And suddenly, I could not breathe.
- Writer
