4

Alessandro

What the fuck is she doing in my room?My head is pounding, my vision blurry from alcohol. But through the haze, I can still make out a figure—Emily—clutching the sheets to her chest like a shield.

“What are you doing in my room?” I ask.

“This is MY room!” she stammers, eyes wide with a mix of indignation and fear.

I squint, looking around the room. Shit, it’s dark, but even in my drunk state, the differences slowly creep in. Wrong rug. Wrong color on the walls. Hell, even the scent is all wrong—floral, not the smoky blend of my own cologne and leather.

“Why the fuck are you naked?” I manage to spit out. “Aren’t you supposed to be the nanny?”

Emily’s face flushes a deep shade of red as she struggles to cover herself with the sheet. “I-I always sleep this way. I didn’t expect anyone to come in!”

I can feel my anger rising, fueled by the alcohol coursing through my veins.

“That’s not exactly appropriate behavior for a nanny, is it?”

I step closer to her, towering over her petite form. Her eyes widen in fear as she tries to back away, but there’s nowhere for her to go. She’s trapped between me and the bed.

“I don’t appreciate this kind of behavior in my home,” I growl, grabbing her wrist tightly.

Emily flinches, her eyes darting from my grip on her wrist to my face. “I didn’t invite you in. And for the record, this is my room! Nicolas gave it to me.” Emily snaps, pulling her gaze away from my clenched fist.

My eyebrows shoot up. “Is this the only thing he gave you? The room? Or are you here to seduce us?”

“Let me GO!” she yells.

And I let go of her wrist. Her face turns a deeper shade of red, indignation flashing in her eyes.

Emily scrambles, grabbing the first pieces of clothing she finds—a shirt and a pair of jeans—and starts hastily putting them on.

Just as she’s pulling the shirt over her head, the door bursts open again. It’s Damon, his eyes darting from Emily’s semi-dressed state to my clenched jaw.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

His voice is calm, but the tension ratchets up another notch, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Emily quickly finishes dressing and steps away from me, putting as much distance between us as possible. Damon seems to notice this and takes a step towards her, his hands held out in a non-threatening manner.

“What happened here?” he asks softly, trying to defuse the situation.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “She’s in the wrong room, and she was naked,” I say through gritted teeth.

Damon’s eyes widen slightly, but he remains calm. “Is that so? Emily, what’s going on?”

Emily glares at me before turning to Damon. “I was given this room by Nicolas himself. I didn’t know it belonged to Alessandro.”

Damon nods slowly, taking in the information. He then turns to me. “You are drunk, Alessandro! Leave the room. Now.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.” I walk towards him.

He doesn’t break my eye contact.

“I can and I will. You’re in no state to be making decisions right now. Go to your own room and sleep it off.”

I clench my fists, but I know he’s right. I turn on my heel and leave the room, slamming the door shut behind me.

Despite the thickness of these walls—or lack thereof—their voices seep through, carrying fragments of a conversation I shouldn’t be privy to, but can’t ignore.

I hear Damon’s voice, softer now, “Emily, did he hurt you? Did he touch you in any way you didn’t want?”

“No, Mister Damon, I—I’m fine,” Emily replies with a shaky voice. “It was just a misunderstanding, but thanks for asking.”

From my room, the door not fully closed, I catch snatches of Damon’s voice, softer, more intimate than before. “Emily, if you ever need anything or feel uncomfortable, you can always come to me, okay?”

“Thank you, Damon,” her voice sounds touched, maybe a bit relieved. “I’ll remember that.”

“Do you want me to find another room for you?” Damon’s voice is so damn considerate it annoys me.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll stay here for now. Alessandro knows this is my room, so I don’t think there will be any more issues,” Emily replies.

“Alright. Sleep well, Emily.”

“Goodnight, Damon.”

I hear footsteps fade away, and I realize I’ve been clenching my fists the whole time. I take a deep breath, my head pounding in rhythm with my accelerated heartbeat. When did I get so damn lightweight? I collapse back onto my bed, but sleep, it seems, is going to be elusive tonight. I keep replaying the scene in my head, Damon’s soft, protective tone, Emily’s relieved response, and it all leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

Damon bursts into my room, and I’m immediately on edge. “Ever heard of knocking?”

“Obviously, you haven’t,” he snaps. “Really, Alessandro? Harassing that young girl? You scared the shit out of her. And you’re drunk!”

He crosses his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched.

His voice escalates, and I can see the veins on his neck standing out, a clear sign he’s genuinely pissed.

“Yeah, well, I thought that was my room, okay?” I shoot back defensively, struggling to get my swirling thoughts in order.

“No, she’s inherroom, which you barged into. Don’t make this about her; this is on you.” Damon’s voice is icy now, controlled but seething.

I don’t have a good comeback. Deep down, I know he’s right. But my ego, and the alcohol clouding my judgment, won’t let me admit it.

“Just get out, Damon,” I finally growl.

“Not until you promise to leave Emily alone. She’s here to work, not to become another one of your distractions. Also, don’t forget about theFrostbitetomorrow.”

As if I could. I’ll think about that motherfucker tomorrow.

I don’t answer, but the look on my face must tell him enough. He huffs, shakes his head, and finally leaves, closing the door hard behind him. I’m left alone with my thoughts, which are anything but pleasant right now.

My thoughts drift to Emily. Poor thing.

Her eyes, wide and filled with both fear and a hint of something else. Perhaps, innocence. And, if I’m honest, it fuels my desire.

She was so vulnerable, yet feisty, and despite my less-than-commendable actions, I can’t get the image of her out of my mind. The way she clutched the sheets to cover herself. Her flushed face as she looked up at me. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this; it’s wildly inappropriate given our roles in this house, and my current state. But I can’t help it.

I toss and turn in my bed, trying to rid myself of these thoughts. But, no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake Emily from my mind. It’s like a fever that’s taken hold of me, and I’m helpless to resist its pull.

I rise and walk to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face as if that could wash away my confused feelings. Staring at my reflection, it hits me. I’ve been an ass—a major one. What the hell was I thinking, bursting into her room like that? She’s new here, already stuck in a complicated situation, and what do I do? Make it worse.Way to go, Alessandro.

Shaking my head, I dry my face with a towel and make up my mind. Time to do the right thing for once.

I stride out of the bathroom. There’s only one way to resolve this: confront it head-on. No half-measures.

I gently knock on her door, hoping she’ll answer. When there’s no response, I try the handle, surprised to find that it’s unlocked. Without thinking, I push the door open and step inside.

Emily is sitting at her desk, poring over some papers. She looks up when she sees me and quickly stands up, her hands clenched at her sides.

“What do you want?” Her voice trembles.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly.

She looks at me incredulously. “What are you apologizing for?”

“For everything that happened earlier. It was completely inappropriate of me.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stares at me with those beautiful green eyes of hers.

“I accept your apology,” she finally says, her voice still shaking.

I take a step closer to her, my heart beating faster than ever before. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, Emily?” My voice is low and husky, my gaze fixed on her face.

Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she seems to steel herself. “I’ll let you know,” she holds my gaze. There’s a note of caution there, but also something else. Curiosity, maybe?

I step even closer, close enough to catch a hint of her perfume, something light and floral that makes me think ofspring. My eyes drop to her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again.

“Take your time deciding, Emily. But don’t take too long,” I murmur, my voice dropping lower. The tension vibrates between us like a plucked string.

Her eyes flicker to my lips and back up to my eyes. She bites her lip, as if holding back words—or actions. “I won’t,” she replies softly.

I nod and turn to leave, each step weighed down by the effort it takes to walk away. “Goodnight, Emily.”

“Goodnight, Alessandro.”

The door clicks shut behind me, but the tension, woven with promise and unanswered questions, lingers. And I know neither of us will sleep easy tonight.