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1151 Words
I didn’t reply to him.
Not to the text he sent last night.
Not to the one that followed.
And definitely not to the one this morning that simply read:
Come to my office. Now.
I told myself I was ignoring him because I had self-respect, dignity, boundaries the whole curated list of qualities a sane woman should possess. But the truth was uglier I was avoiding the way his presence made my pulse react like it had never learned discipline.
I saw him yesterday.
Another woman in his space too close, too comfortable.
And the whispers… they weren’t whispers. They were facts with glittering dresses and glossy lips.
Lorenzo De Luca was a man women beg to be with,the one every women dream about,Ruch,strong,intelligent and handsome.
A man like him never belongs to just one person.
I told myself I didn’t care.
I was lying.
But ignoring his message apparently wasn’t an option, because now I was here walking towards his office, palms cold and heart unreasonably alive.
I knocked once. He answered immediately.
“Come in.”
Of course he was already watching the door.
Of course.
He stood behind his desk jacket off, sleeves rolled to his forearms, the quiet kind of power that doesn’t need volume. The room felt smaller with him in it.
“Sit,” he said.
I didn’t. I shut the door behind me and faced him. “You wanted to see me.”
His jaw flexed. “You ignored me.”
I lifted a brow, keeping my tone cool, steady, dignified. “I was busy.”
A humorless exhale left him. Not quite a laugh. “Busy.” He stepped around the desk, closing distance in slow, measured strides. “You weren’t busy. You were avoiding me.”
“I don’t avoid anyone,” I said, even though my pulse was very loudly disagreeing.
His eyes dragged over my face not hungry, not greedy but aware studying my expression closely.
My chest tightened.
“You saw something that wasn’t what you thought it was,” he said.
For a moment, the memory flickered behind my eyelids her hand on his arm, his unreadable expression, the ease of it.
I hated the way it made my stomach twist.
“So enlighten me,” I said quietly. “Because what I saw looked very familiar.”
He stepped closer.
Too close.
Close enough that I had to tip my chin up to hold his gaze.
“You think I make a habit of entertaining women in my office,” he said.
“Your clubs exists, Lorenzo. I don’t have to think. I just have to look and hear .”
The air tightened like the two of us were pulling opposite ends of the same thread, waiting to see who snapped first.
His voice dropped low, precise, dangerous.
“You are not them.”
My heartbeat stumbled my pulse quickened,and I swallowed I hate that he makes me feel this way but I enjoy it.
“And you don’t get to pretend you don’t know that.”
There it was the shift the spark of something neither of us had language for yet.
I swallowed. “Even if I did know that, you don’t get to summon me because I hurt your ego.”
His hand moved not fast just deliberate fingers coming to rest against my jaw, tilting, guiding, asking without asking.
“Is that what you think this is?” he murmured.
My breath caught and I felt moist down there oh my……
I hated that he noticed.
“I think you’re used to women doing what you want,” I said. “And I’m not one of them.”
His eyes flickered something sharp, something interested.
“No,” he said, tone almost thoughtful. “You’re not.”
He stepped forward, and I stepped back.
Once.
Twice.
Until the edge of his desk touched my spine.
His body followed, heat without pressure, intention without force. His hand stayed at my jaw warm, steady, unbearably gentle.
This was worse than being grabbed.
Gentleness meant danger.
“What do you want from me?” I whispered.
His eyes didn’t waver. “Honesty.”
A laugh almost escaped me. “You want honesty?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” I met his gaze head-on. “I don’t want to care. I don’t want to be another name, another rumor, another piece in your orbit. And I hate that I even have to tell you that.”
His expression didn’t soften it sharpened.
“Sophia,” he said, voice quiet like a threat, “if you were ‘just another,’ I wouldn’t be here right now.”
And then he kissed me even before I could blink it happened fast
Not rushed.
Not messy.
Controlled.
His hand at my jaw held me exactly where he wanted me, and the world narrowed to heat and breath and the weight of him the way he chose restraint instead of hunger. The roughness was under the surface held back like he was waiting for permission he already knew he’d get.
My hands found his shoulders without me realizing it.
I didn’t pull him closer but I didn’t push him away.
When he deepened the kiss, it felt like falling not sudden I felt breath knocked out of my lungs.
He broke it first.
His forehead rested against mine breath mingling with mine not rushed, not desperate just there. Connected.
“I don’t share,” he said quietly.
I felt the words in my throat, in my chest, in the place I’d been trying to keep locked shut.
“I didn’t ask you to,” I whispered.
Footsteps.
The door opened.
We didn’t move.
Isabella stood in the doorway.
Perfect hair. Perfect poise. Perfect control.
Her eyes flicked once from my flushed lips to his hand resting lightly on my hips.
The silence was a blade.
“Oh,” she said softly, smiling like a knife dipped in honey. “I see.”
She didn’t sound surprised.
Just… interested.
Lorenzo straightened but didn’t step away from me.
And that was what Isabella noticed.
Not the kiss.
Not the closeness.
Something unreadable flashed behind her eyes.
“I’ll come back,” she said smoothly, already turning already planning.
“No,” Lorenzo said.
Isabella stopped.
“We’re done,” he finished.
She smiled again the kind that promised storms.
“Of course,” she said, before leaving the door open behind her.
Of course.
Because she’d be back.
I exhaled slowly aware of everything that just happened.
Lorenzo looked at me not impatient not unsure just there, grounded in his decision.
“We’re not finished,” he said.
I nodded, because we both knew he was right.
We weren’t.
We wouldn’t be.
No matter how dangerous this was becoming.
And God help me I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop.
- Writer
