8

“Thank you for your time. I expect the signed contract in my inbox by the end of business tomorrow.”

The seller and his legal team grunt their agreement. Roger, ever the professional, extends an offer to answer any further questions they might have.

It’s all just a formality. I’m offering twice the value of the planes, fully confident they’ll boost our profits by thirty percent in no time. Sometimes, being generous is part of the strategy. Turning down my offer would be foolish.

Roger’s knowing grin reflects his agreement.

“Nice work,” I tell him, loosening my tie as the video call concludes.

“Want a drink?” he offers.

I decline. “I’m going to grab some coffee from the kitchen.” As I rise, I add, “You should take the rest of the night off. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends.”

He looks puzzled. “Since when is working too many hours a problem?”

Given that I’m anticipating a special visitor and would prefer not to be interrupted, I’d rather not have him around. I’m unsure whether I should confront her about her previous visit or give in to the temptation of what she clearly wanted that night. Tatiana didn’t specify her arrival time, so I’m on edge, waiting. Roger’s presence would only add to the tension.

“If I need you, I know where to find you,” I say. His house is just a minute’s walk away on the compound grounds.

As an afterthought, I add, “Tatiana mentioned Caterina will be staying here while she’s away. So, we have our answer about where she’s moving.”

The mention of Tatiana’s name makes Roger’s brow furrow. I know she gets under his skin, but if anyone can handle her, it’s him. As long as he doesn’t speak ill of her in my presence, we’re fine. “She didn’t mention that to me.”

“Same here. She dropped that little surprise on me as she was leaving. Always full of surprises,” I reply with a sigh. “Just wanted to give you a heads-up in case you see her around. The staff’s used to her being here, but with Tatiana gone, there might be some questions.”

“I’ll make sure everyone knows,” Roger says, and I grunt my thanks before heading to the kitchen.

Sheryl, our long-time cook, looks up as I enter.

“Just coffee,” I say, as she wipes her hands on her apron. Sheryl may look like a sweet old grandma, but she’s got a sharp tongue and can handle a knife better than most men I know.

“Gianni, if you don’t eat, you’ll wither away,” Sheryl scolds, her hazel eyes narrowing.

I’m not sure who appointed her as my mother, but her concern, though sometimes irritating, shows she cares. “Doubtful, but if you’re really worried, I’ll make sure to eat something before I go to bed,” I assure her with a smile.

She crosses her arms. “You better. If I come back and those meals are untouched, I’ll be slicing more than vegetables.”

I almost laugh. She’s not much taller than five feet, her graying hair tied back in a bun, and she looks frail, yet she’s threatening me.

I chuckle. “Your threats don’t scare me.”

“They should. You have no idea what trouble I caused back in my day.” She winks, leaving me shaking my head.

Truthfully, my appetite is nearly nonexistent. I’m on edge, waiting for something significant, and my longing for what’s to come is making it hard to sleep. It’ll be a miracle if I get through the month without collapsing from exhaustion or starvation.

I can’t stop my body’s reaction to her. Damn, she’s like an angel—perfection and innocence wrapped up in a beautiful package. A warning echoes in my mind.

But she’s also a woman. Just like any other.

No wonder I can’t eat. My heart and mind are raging war against each other. Torn to pieces, I’m battling between what little conscience I have left, my jaded views of women, and the ever-present craving that’s slowly consuming my entire existence.

A craving that magically materializes as a stunning young woman who appears at the other end of the hall.Caterina.Her shoulders are turned inward, her body facing away from me. I can’t make out her face from this distance. Then, like a misty fog, she disappears and ducks into my office. My legs threaten to carry me to her without thinking through what might happen next.

Fuck, I don’t trust myself enough around this girl.How unfortunate, then, that she’s staying here while your daughter is gone.

With a single look, I can strike fear into the heart of the hardest, most brutal men. Certainly, I can handle this little girl, no matter how enticing she is. It doesn’t matter that we shared one dirty secret. Yes, it was wild and hot as fuck, but it was a onetime thing. She probably assumes I didn’t see her anyway. It’s not a big deal. We were both caught up in lust. No doubt that’s how she’s chosen to brush it off.

The desire to confront her pulls me forward. As I walk the length of the hall, every step bringing me closer to her, the animal lust flaring to life low in my gut leaves me wondering if I should fuck her and get it over with or at least eat her pussy the way I’ve been longing to do since that night. Business wise, it might mean getting her out of my system. The way such acts typically leave me bored and uneasy almost as soon as I’ve finished, prepared to show the woman in question to the door and promptly forget we ever met.

Caterina is different. I can’t forget her. She’s part of my life, part of Tatiana’s.

She’s also too young for you.

I fight my subconscious. She’s a grown woman.

She’s your daughter’s best friend.

Tatiana never has to know.

My insides are coiled with tension as I step through the doorway. I stop, taken aback by the sight before me. The room is filled with quiet sobs, and Caterina’s shoulders tremble with every breath. She looks fragile and delicate, as though she might shatter at any moment. Seated in the chair behind my desk, her small hands are covering her face. Is she embarrassed by her tears? She has no reason to feel that way. My protective instinct competes with my lingering desire, each vying for dominance.

I want to both comfort her and fulfill my desires.

One thing is clear: my feelings for her are too intense to ignore. I can’t dismiss her as merely a distraction or temptation when her tears compel me to seek out whoever caused her pain.

The urge to protect her is overwhelming, and I feel an intense rush of anger. I’ve never felt such a strong, possessive drive towards a woman before. I can’t just stand here and let her cry; her sobs are breaking me down.