Chapter 37: Thirty - seven

When his order hits me, I almost lose my footing, but I regain my stance.

I'm slightly trembling when I eventually give him my back after a moment of reluctance. My heart pounds erratically with anxiety, and I have to ball my hands into fists to regain my composure.

It feels surreal, what's currently happening, so you can't blame me for my reaction.

I didn't for a second think Lorenzo could be... I don't even know what to call it. This man tends to surprise me every time with a new emotional trait.

Staring at our reflection in the mirror in front of us, his frame towers behind mine. His gaze is fixated on my neck, and I can't help the gulp that passes down my throat when I notice that look of lust in his expression.

I might be mistaken since he hardly shows emotion. But the way his gaze is trailing down my neck right now, you'd think he's contemplating whether to plaster a hickey across my skin, to let everyone else know that I am taken. Or better still, that I am his wife, as he always likes to remind me.

Something about the way he's staring at me makes shivers travel down my spine, settling at my nerve endings. My stomach curls and my throat tightens.

I observe his reflection for a moment, and I'm beginning to wonder if he's still interested in putting that diamond necklace on me.

He must read my thoughts because he suddenly pulls away from his daze, regaining his composure. His sharp, intent grey orbs meet mine, and a pang of thrill courses through me.

"Are you nervous?" he asks out of the blue. I don't miss the taunt that accentuates his question.

Yet I can't help but wonder how the hell he knows I'm basically losing every ounce of my composure right now. Wait, is it that obvious?

Is my trembling evident?

Gosh, I hate how he easily notices the littlest things I believe he wouldn't even take note of.

However, despite his accurate observation, I swallow subtly, hardening my expression as I retort. The last thing I want is to give him the impression that anything about him has any effect on me.

"N- No?" Although my response comes out uncertain, I clear my throat and add defiantly, "I'm not nervous. Why would I be?"

He obviously doesn't buy my denial because he studies my face in the mirror before humming, "Hmm."

I swallow again, my pulse racing faster than before. His cologne surrounds me like a warm blanket, and every time I inhale, I inhale him. It's fucking intoxicating and annoying.

Nonetheless, I push aside thoughts of him and maintain a calm exterior even though my nerves are slowly crumbling.

His voice drags me back to the moment.

"I wanted you to have this," he says in his low, deep voice, holding up the necklace and maintaining eye contact in the mirror.

It's not my intention, but I end up blurting, "W- Why?"

The curiosity has been lingering in my mind since he ordered me to turn around.

I mean, why would the same person who claims he doesn't trust me and acts like he doesn't like me do something like this for me?

I'm certain this necklace costs a fortune, and while I know money isn't his problem, I still can't help but feel like he has ulterior motives.

"Why?" he repeats, pulling me out of my haze. His voice sends a vibration down my spine when he answers firmly, "Because you're my wife."

I swallow. That's all I ever do these days.

Lorenzo snorts. "I don't need a particular reason before I can get my wife a gift, do I?"

I can't answer. I think his response is rhetorical or sarcastic. The curtness in his tone makes my heart twinge, though.

"It's a thank-you gift for agreeing to become my secretary," he says, and my eyes widen with disbelief.

I almost scoff, but I suppress the urge.

Can you believe this man?

Did he just say for "agreeing to become his secretary?"

As in, I, Liora Fletcher, willingly agreed to work for him?

This damn motherfucker. I didn't agree to shit. He practically forced the role down my throat and left me with no option to decline.

However, since I clearly can't protest because, one, it's pointless, and two, maybe I do want that jewelry on my neck, I refrain from retorting.

His lips curl with amusement. "Isn't that right, mi esposa?"

Taunting me must be an entertaining sport he has clearly adopted recently, because what's the meaning of this endless torment?

Regardless, I bob my head in affirmation, choosing to let him stick with whatever belief floats his boat.

I didn't agree to work for him, but if he wants to believe I did, then I'm not stopping him.

His hand lifts to my shoulder, and the moment his fingers graze my neckline, I feel heated sparks shooting through me, my heartbeat skyrocketing.

What's this effect?

He caresses my neck tenderly before finally securing the jewelry around it.

We both stare at our reflections in the mirror. While his gaze is fixated on me, I'm looking at the dazzling diamond necklace now sitting pretty around my neck.

My goodness, it's really beautiful. I've never gotten something like this before. I can admit this is the finest piece I've ever worn in my life.

And to think I received it from my supposed husband.

My gaze strays back to his, and his expression remains unreadable from behind me. My heart clenches, but I summon the courage to speak as I lift my fingers to caress the pendant.

"It's beautiful..."

"Not as beautiful as you, mi esposa."

Surprise surges through me, my lips slowly parting in disbelief.

I can't believe my ears. Could it be I didn't hear him correctly the first time?

I blink weakly, my expression faltering as my heartbeat thunders.

Did he really just give me a compliment?

He's never given me one before. Or at least none that I know of.

This comes as a huge shock to me.

Lorenzo apparently doesn't care much that I'm dumbfounded by the rare affectionate remark. But well, at least he thinks I'm beautiful.

"I'll be waiting downstairs for you," he tells me firmly, "Come when you're ready, and don't be late."

He looks at me briefly before stepping away and walking out of the room nonchalantly, like nothing just happened.

Like he didn't just compliment me for the first time.

Like he didn't just present me with the most expensive and beautiful jewelry I've ever seen.

Like he didn't just call me beautiful...

My heart swells with warmth, an unfamiliar emotion stirring within me as I revel in the love-bomb bubble he left me in. A smile forms on my face as I think about the last two minutes.

However, while I'm getting distracted by his affectionate gesture, the smile completely falls from my face when I suddenly recall it wasn't just the necklace he gifted me this morning. There's still an ankle monitor strapped to my leg, and it's, of course, another illegal present from him.

Fuck, I hate this man, I curse under my breath, reality crashing over me like a ton of bricks.