Chapter 10

Amelia's POV.

The moment Don Mateo stepped out of that bathroom, the air in the room changed completely.

The towel hung dangerously low on his waist. 

The water still running down his chest in slow trails and I fixed my eyes on the wall like my life depended on it.

It didn't help.

I could still feel him moving around the room, still smell that cologne that had no business being that good. 

I pulled the sheets up and pressed my thighs together, having a quiet, very serious argument with myself.

He is your ex's father.

He is dangerous.

You literally watched him chop off someone's finger.

Stop it. Whatever this is, stop it right now.

My body didn't listen. It never did.

The heat sitting low in my stomach didn't care about contracts or danger or the fact that this man's son had just thrown me out of his house less than twenty four hours ago. 

It just sat there, burning quietly, refusing to go away.

Then the bed dipped on his side.

I completely stopped breathing for a full second. 

The warmth coming off his skin reached me even with the distance between us and I shut my eyes so tightly it hurt.

Do not move, I told myself. Do not breathe too loud. Do not be stupid.

I lay there stiff as a board. 

I was painfully aware of every small shift he made on his side of the bed, every exhale that broke through the quiet of the room.

 It took longer than I would ever admit out loud but sleep eventually came and pulled me under.

***

Morning came before I was ready for it.

My hand moved across the bed before my brain did. 

A slow drag across the sheets, reaching without knowing it was reaching. 

My fingers found nothing, just cool, empty fabric of the sheets. 

I opened my eyes.

His side of the bed was empty and already cold which meant he'd been gone a while. I just lay there staring at it, sitting with that strange hollow feeling that crept into my chest.

I didn't think about what it meant.

I really didn't want to.

I got up, took a nice long bath and went to the wardrobe.

Just like the night before, everything in it was exactly my size. 

I pulled out a white bodycon gown and stepped into it and just like everything else in this room it fit perfectly. 

It sat just right on my waist, skimmed my hips like it was made for me.

I stood in front of the mirror and the unease crept back in slowly.

How did he know my size?

The question had been sitting at the back of my mind since I'd first opened that wardrobe. 

My skincare products were on the vanity. My preferred tea was on the shelf. Everything was exactly right, exactly mine, and it unsettled me so much that I couldn't shake off.

Either Don Mateo had very thorough staff or he'd been watching me for a long time.

Neither of the possible answers made me feel better.

I pushed the thought away and headed downstairs. 

The dining room was already set and I'd barely settled into my seat when a large shadow fell across the table.

I looked up.

A man built like a small building was standing a few feet away from me. 

He had square jaw, sharp eyes and the kind of face that didn't invite conversation.

He dipped his head once, “I'm Marcus. Your new bodyguard.”

I blinked at him, trying to make sense of what he'd just said, “My bodyguard?”

“Yes Madame.”

I looked at him for a moment, “Did Don send you?”

“Yes Madame.”

I nodded slowly and turned back to my food, though my appetite had mostly disappeared. 

The only thing on my mind was my mother. I needed to see her with my own eyes. 

I needed to confirm that she was actually being taken care of the way Don had promised me.

“I want to go to the hospital,” I told Marcus, “To see my mother.”

“Whenever you're ready Madame.”

I rose from the chair, smoothed my gown down and followed him towards the front entrance. 

The morning air hit my skin the moment the doors opened and I stepped outside, grateful for something that felt normal.

Then I stopped walking.

Six armed men stood wrapped around the car like a wall.  

 My eyes moved slowly across each of them before settling on Marcus.

He looked back at me without flinching.

“You're the Don's wife now Madame,” he said, his voice flat and even like he was reading from a script, “That makes you a problem for a lot of dangerous people.”

I looked back at the men standing around that car.

Then I got in without a word.

My earlier confidence shrank with every word Marcus had said, folding into itself slowly, until there was very little of it left.