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Chapter Twenty Four.
I take my seat, despite the fact that a part of me wants to scold him for speaking to me in this manner. I mean, the word 'please' never really hurt anyone.
He removes a portfolio from the top drawer of his desk. He stares at me with pride, his palms resting on top of the leather fabric.
"I have something I would like to present to you." As he unzips the leather portfolio, he murmurs gently. "I need a clear set of eyes to analyse my design and tell me the truth."
"I'm truly honoured, Mr Burak. However, I believe that my opinion will be irrelevant. Particularly with regards to your designs." I inform him apprehensively.
He would soon realise that I have no sense of fashion whatsoever if he were to know that I dont pick out my weekly outfits. Castello chooses everything I wear. He has also gone through the trouble to name my clothing after the days of the week.
He's done his best to try and dummy-proof everything for me.
If I had it my w
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I walk out of Castello's office feeling utterly stupid. To be more specific, a failure. Castello's folder, which he gave me a few weeks ago, is still in my bottom drawer, hidden beneath my clothes. I thought it was a brilliant idea to approach this mission blindly. I was hesitant to study his file in the hopes of judging him based on the facts provided to me only. For some odd reason, I wanted to judge him objectively, based on my own experience. I am curious about what makes him tick, and the last thing I want is for him to question how I have gathered so much information about him.I mean, yeah. His backstory can be found on any search engine if one is truly committed to doing a deep dive and getting to know him better than he believes he does. However, as my mother always used to say. 'You can't believe everything you read.' I close the
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I reach halfway up the stairwell, praying like fuck that there will be no bloodshed tonight. If either of them gets their hands covered in blood.There will be an uproar within the family.And if Trent survives, it is a certain conclusion that he will also have my head. He will make it clear that I was the catalyst for their falling out. And that is not a possibility for me. Prior to Sandro's birth, I would have looked death in the eye like a lovestruck teenager.However, my greatest fear at the moment is dying, abandoning little Sandro. I want more for him; I do not want him to believe that being an Esposito family member is all he is capable of.Beyond these kingly-sized iron gates. There is a world full of wonderment and I want, no. I need him to work towards a future that will not tarnish his beautiful hands."Tesoro," (Treasure.)I come to a halt and turn around to see Ace at the bottom of the steps, holding Sandro in his arms. If
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"Hey, Akira." I stand at her desk after she buzzes me in. Today, she is wearing a maroon dress that ends just above her knees and hugs her figure, highlighting her womanly curves. "Good morning, C.C." Her cheeks are slightly flushed with a faint smile. "You're looking very professional today?" She arches a brow as her gaze sweeps over me. I tuck my loose curls behind my ears and stare down at myself. "A pair of black dress slacks and a white blouse is hardly professional." I chuckle. "It is more a case of playing it safe." I groan, wishing I possessed the confidence to dress up like the majority of the girls around here. "Is he in?" I enquire sceptically, hoping that I am not too late. "Nope, he is upstairs this morning, I believe." "Thank the Gods," I reply. "I'll catch up with you later." "I'll be here." She hums as the sound of her tapping away on her keyboard follows me down the corridor. I take a seat behind my des
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When the SUV comes to a halt in front of the Burak building, I dont wait for Gerald to hop out from the driver's seat to open the door for me.I have a sudden urge to call Ace and check up on Sandro. I walk through the lobby of the building, my heels clicking against the marble flooring with determination to get to my destination quickly.I reach the bank of elevators, pressing the button and I step away, running my fingers through my loose curls. I start to gather it up into a ponytail and I feel him standing behind me."Lütfen (please), leave it down. I like the way it frames your face." He implores as he wraps his hand around mine and tugs it away from my hair.The doors slide open and he glides me into the elevator car with his hand on the small of my back. I say a silent prayer to the Gods to keep my trembling legs from giving out beneath me. People start piling into the car with us. It quickly becomes overcrowded and we are fo
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His hand moves from my jawline to the base of my throat as he kisses my feverish skin along my neck.I moan, my eyes pressing tight as a shiver runs through my body. I know I should pull back and put an end to this little exploration of curiosity between us. But, his touch ignites my body, and I savour the sensations running through me for a little bit longer."What are you doing to me, Miss Cross?"Another shiver slides through me at the way he says my name with an authoritative bite heavily masked by his accent.On the inside of his jacket, I slide my hands up his torso and feel the hard planes of his powerful chest. "Mr Burak.." I moan."Evet (yes), Miss Cross?" He answers hoarsely, his lips moving up my neck and across my jawline. "One touch is all I need, askim (my love)."My eyes spring open and I push him off me.Those words...I remember those exact words being used against me over a year ago.
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His head jerks forward, and his eyes study me. "Did he harm you?" His voice is dangerously low and I swallow back the notion of him finding out who Castello is. The sound of a door slamming shut lingers in the air and I watch as he turns his head for a split second in the direction Castello left. I also manage to catch a glimpse of his hands curling into tight balls at his side. Smearing a ghostly shade of pale white across his knuckles before he relaxes them and returns my gaze. "No, Mr Burak." I shift my gaze from his face to the ground in front of me. My body is flooded with emotions that are quickly making me sick to my stomach. And, I'm unsure on how to begin processing anything that is happening between me and Aydem or what has been expressed between me and Castello. The burden of my worries is getting increasingly too great for me to bear on my own shoulders. I take a deep breath and peer up to see Ay
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I sit on the bottom of the staircase, nervously biting my nails as I wait for the bastards to return. I comb my fingers through my hair as I watch Trent's goons wander the corridors in pairs with their guns tucked into the side of their pants. "Questa cagna ha le palle." (This bitch has balls) I hear one of them chuckle as he looks me up and down. When I feel a primal instinct to flip him the bird, I bite my tongue. They all assume I have not picked up any Italiano throughout my stay here. I've learned to gnaw on the inside of my cheek to keep my secret, despite the fact that I occasionally want to scream and yell at them for the crude things they say to me. I swiftly decide against it, as I believe I can leverage it to my benefit when the time is perfect. I take out my phone and dial Aces' number while pressing the phone against my ear. It rings three times before it goes straight to his voicemail and a soft growl leaves my
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