CHAPTER 2:HOUSE RULES

I should have said no.

The penthouse on Fifth Avenue had three floors, six bedrooms, a chef's kitchen I couldn't even name, and a man who looked at me like I was a problem he already solved.

His housekeeper, Mrs. Potts, showed me my room.

"Next to Lily's," she whispered, smiling. "He never lets any nanny sleep on this floor. Only family."

My room was bigger than my entire apartment in the Bronx. King bed. Silk sheets. A closet full of new clothes — not my size? No, my EXACT size. Chubby size. Soft dresses. White tops.

How did he know my size?

Before I could ask, Lily ran in and jumped on my bed. "Isabella! You are here! You are soft like my pillow!"

I laughed, hugging her. She smelled like strawberries.

"Do you want to watch cartoons, baby?"

"No. I want pasta. The other nannies made salad. I hate salad."

"I will make you the cheesiest pasta in New York."

Lily cheered.

Downstairs, the kitchen was a dream. Marble, gold taps, fridge bigger than my door.

I opened it — empty except for protein shakes and green juice. Billionaire diet.

I found pasta, cheese, milk. I started cooking, humming — my hips swaying in my cheap leggings.

I didn't hear him come in.

"You dance when you cook."

I jumped. Luciano De Luca stood in the doorway, shirt sleeves rolled up, tie loose, watching my hips.

My white crop top rode up. My soft belly showed.

"Mr— Luciano! I was making Lily pasta—"

"I can see." He walked closer. Too close. "House rules, Miss Reyes. Number one—"

He stopped behind me. I could feel his heat.

"—No crop tops in my kitchen if you don't want me to lose control."

My breath stopped. His hand — for one second — brushed the soft roll of my waist. Just a brush. But my knees almost gave out.

"Are you trying to seduce me on your first night?" he whispered in my ear.

"No! I— I only have these clothes—"

"Then I will buy you more. Clothes that cover you. Because if my friends see you like this at the gala tomorrow, I will have to kill them."

Gala? What gala?

He stepped away as fast as he came. Cold again.

"Lily, dinner is ready," he called, like nothing happened.

Lily ran in, oblivious. She ate three plates. Luciano watched me eat. I ate like a chubby queen — with appetite — and he watched my mouth like a starving man.

"Good girls eat," he said quietly.

Mrs. Potts winked at me.

After Lily slept, I was in my room, trying to breathe, when there was a knock.

Luciano stood there with a small black box.

"House rule number two," he said.

He opened it — a thin gold necklace with a small crown.

"My nannies don't wear cheap jewelry."

"It's too expensive—"

"Isabella."

That voice. That possessive voice.

He stepped behind me, moved my hair, clasped it around my neck. His fingers brushed my nape. Goosebumps everywhere.

"There. Now everyone knows you belong to this house."

I touched the crown. My heart was beating like crazy.

"Mr. De Luca—"

"Luciano," he corrected, his lips almost touching my ear. "And rule number three — you don't lock your door at night. Lily has nightmares. She might need you."

That was a lie. Lily slept like an angel.

He wanted my door unlocked for him.

"I understand," I whispered.

He smiled — the first real smile — dark and possessive.

"Good queen."

He left. I locked the door anyway.

But I kept the necklace on.

Outside my window, Fifth Avenue glittered. Inside, a billionaire was obsessed with my soft waist.

And I — for the first time in my life — felt like a queen in a penthouse that was not mine.

Until tonight.

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