Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
The massive office takes up fully half the top floor, yet the presence of whoever works inside lingers, overpowering it. Eclipsing it.
"Hello?"
No one answers.
Of course they don't.
"Jesus, Genesis." I shake my head hard, hauling my cleaning bucket into the office. "There's no one here. No one ever works this late, especially not men who have offices like this."
I drop my bucket inside the door and stroll around, curiosity getting the better of me. It's our first time cleaning Valentino International. I guess their usual company quit unexpectedly yesterday. Lydia didn't share the details with me.
Like the other executive offices, this one lacks anything personal. Yet it feels more lived in, as if the brother who works in it spends more than his fair share of time here. Which is he?
Rafe, the brother everyone fears? Luca, the one everyone respects? Gabriel, the brother no one really knows?
I stop behind the antique desk, running my fingers along the swirls in the expensive wood. My eyes fall on the top drawer, which is pulled partially open. Stacks of cash peek from inside. Literal stacks.
I hesitate for a full five count before I slide the drawer open, peering inside. Who keeps this kind of cash inside a desk drawer without a lock on it? Why? I reach inside, not sure what I'm even doing or why. I'm not a thief. And yet…and yet I reach anyway. I pull out a stack of cash anyway.
"What the fuck?"
I yank my hands from the drawer as if burned, spinning with my hand over my heart.
Furious hazel eyes meet mine, anger snapping in their depths.
"You scared me." I lick my lips, trying to work moisture back into my mouth. Why is it so dry? I know instantly which brother he is. Gabriel Valentino, the youngest. I've seen his brothers' pictures in the paper enough to know he isn't one of them.
He looks like them in all the ways that count, but his hair is lighter, his expression darker, harder. Water slicks his overly long hair and drips down the strong planes of his face. It slides down his broad shoulders and defined chest as if flowing along a path carved from muscle.
Save for a towel clutched in front of his groin, he's naked.
"I…um…" I should look away, but I can't. If he's going to kill me for touching the mafia's money, at least I'll die having seen all of him because wow. He may be the single most beautiful man I've ever seen, but there's an unholy darkness to him, as if the scars that crisscross his abdomen and mottle his side also mangled his soul. There are so many scars. What happened to him?
"Are you usually jumpy when you're stealing?" he growls, striding into the office from the attached bathroom as if he's fully clothed.
"Stealing?" I gape at him. "I'm not…I wasn't stealing!"
I wasn't going to take the money…was I?
I don't know how to answer that question, and that shames me.
"You aren't now." He wraps the towel around his waist with a flourish as he crosses the floor to me in four steps. Before I can move, he's in front of me, standing so close I feel the heat of his body against mine.
"Back up," I whisper.
"You should have kept your hands out of the cookie jar, little girl."
I seethe at the name and the way he says it. I seethe even more when he refuses to back up and instead places one arm behind me, blocking me into place between him and the desk. "I have a name, and it's not little girl, Gabriel Valentino."
He laughs abruptly, one brow rising. "You know who I am, and you still decided to try to steal from me?"
"I told you I wasn't stealing from you." I try to slide around him, attempting to put space between us, but the jerk refuses to let me. He blocks me with his other arm, effectively imprisoning me between his body and the desk.
I've been here before, backed into a corner by a man who thought he could control me. Only, this time, terror doesn't clog my throat. A thrill goes through me, and my body reacts, heat pooling low in my belly.
I react to that about as well as I did to the fear. I bring my knee up hard, aiming for Gabriel's groin. He dodges my knee, allowing me to slip around him.
I barely make it a step before he's got his arms around me, hauling me up against his broad chest. "Fuck, you have fire," he growls in my ear. "Keep fighting, little girl. You're only making it harder."
I groan when I feel his erection against my back and realize what he's talking about. His dick. I'm making him harder.
"Stop fighting me."
"Then let me go."
"I just caught you trying to steal from me. You aren't going anywhere, piccola fiamma. Not until I decide to let you. Not unless you want to explain to the police why you were in my office with your hands on the cash in a drawer you have no business opening."