All Chapters of SOLD TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

I stood in the middle of Stefano’s office, roller in hand, staring at the wall in front of me, trying hard not to laugh at how ridiculous it already looked. The gray, intimidating walls that had always screamed power, control, and perfection were now slowly being swallowed by bubblegum pink, the sunlight from the tall windows turning the color almost blinding. My grin spread wider as I imagined him walking in, seeing everything I had done, and losing whatever composure he usually wore like armor.“Take that, Stefano De Luca,” I muttered to myself, dipping the roller in the thick paint and spreading it across another section of the wall. “This is for breakfast. This is for Sofia. This is for every time you act like I don’t exist.”I worked carefully, rolling the paint over the molding, even onto the edges of his polished desk, my mind buzzing with mischief. I tied a pink ribbon around the back of his chair, placed a small flower vase in the center of the desk, and even wrapped his leat

“Who is that?” Stefano asked again, his voice low and controlled as we walked.I swallowed before answering. “He said he was my mom’s ex-husband.”Stefano’s jaw tightened slightly. “Do you remember him?”I shook my head. “No. I really don’t. But my body reacted like I should.”He glanced down at me briefly. “You looked terrified.”“I felt terrified,” I admitted quietly. “I don’t even know why.”They walked a little farther before he slowed his steps and gently turned me to face him near a quiet corner of the mall.“Did he hurt you?” he asked, not gently, not harshly, just directly.“I think he did,” I whispered. “I just don’t remember how. Or when. Or what exactly happened. I only remember the feeling.”Stefano studied my face carefully, like he was trying to read something hidden beneath my skin.“You don’t have to remember today,” he said. “You don’t have to force it.”I nodded, feeling strangely relieved hearing that.He brushed his thumb lightly against my arm in a grounding gestu

I watched Marco and Cassius disappear into the crowd until they blended into the normal movement of the restaurant, but the strange weight of their words stayed at the table with us like an extra presence that refused to leave.For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.Stefano calmly returned to his food as if nothing unusual had happened, but I could tell from the way his fingers rested too still around his fork that he was thinking. Not the casual kind of thinking. The deep, quiet kind that happened when he was rearranging things in his head.“You didn’t tell me you had… that kind of friends,” I said, trying to sound light even though my mind was still replaying everything they had said.He didn’t look up. “What kind?”“The kind who analyze you like a science experiment and then analyze me like I’m the unexpected result.”He almost smiled. “They have always been observant.”“That’s a polite word for invasive.”“They are careful,” he corrected.“With you,” I said. “They were very curio

Night settled over the house gradually, not with darkness alone but with a quiet that seemed to wrap around everything we had said and everything we had chosen not to say, and I found myself sitting beside Stefano long after the conversation had naturally faded, simply listening to the faint sounds of the place as if they were helping my thoughts arrange themselves into something calmer and easier to understand.I eventually stood and gathered the shopping bags from the table, deciding that putting things away would give my mind something simple to focus on after a day that had been anything but simple, and Stefano watched me for a moment before standing as well, silently taking a few of the bags from my hands without asking, which I accepted without protest because it no longer felt unusual for him to step into small tasks beside me like that.We walked upstairs together, not speaking, but not needing to, and when we entered the room the soft lighting made everything feel distant fro

Stefano did not answer immediately, and the silence that followed felt heavier than any words he could have chosen.He studied my face as if measuring how much I had understood without me saying it out loud, and for a moment I wondered if he was deciding whether to dismiss the question or finally acknowledge it.“It wasn’t meant for you,” he said at last, his voice calm but firm. “But you heard it anyway.”I nodded once. “Marco didn’t exactly whisper.”A faint breath escaped him that almost resembled a tired exhale. He walked back to his chair but did not sit. Instead, he rested his hands on the backrest, his posture thoughtful.“You don’t need to think about what he said,” he added.“That’s not how my brain works,” I replied quietly. “Once I hear something, I think about it.”His eyes held mine for a second longer than usual. “I know.”That simple acknowledgment made something tighten in my chest. He knew. He knew I would not just forget the word that had been dropped so casually int