Chapter 23: The Monster or the Man
The water rippled around me as he turned me fully to face him, his large hands anchoring my shoulders with a grip that wasn’t bruising but unshakably firm. I froze, my breath caught, every nerve in my body alive with panic.
“I’m not going to hurt you, so stop tremb..”
The words caught in his throat, trailing off.
I followed his gaze, confused, until I realized where his eyes had fallen. Heat flared in my cheeks so violently it felt like fire spreading across my skin. His eyes weren’t on my face, not on the fear in my expression, but lower, lingering where they shouldn’t.
My arms shot up on instinct, hands flying to cover his eyes. “Hey!” The word burst out of me, high-pitched and sharp, betraying my panic.
He didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. His lashes brushed lightly against my palms, but he made no move to stop me.
What the hell is wrong with him? What is he staring at me like that for? Doesn’t he know I’m the opposite sex? Doesn’t he understand boundaries? My heart thudded like a drum in my chest, the echo deafening in the small bathroom.
Or… does he know, and that’s the problem?
Panic spiraled through me, a dozen questions at once. Has he never seen a naked woman before? That can’t be. He’s Lorenzo De Luca. A man with money, power, women probably throwing themselves at him. So why me? Why now? What should I do if this goes too far?
No. I couldn’t let my mind go there. Negative thoughts would only make me crumble faster.
“What’s wrong?” His voice came calm, curious even, muffled beneath my hands.
My chest heaved. “What’s the matter with you?” I snapped, louder this time, more desperate.
Slowly, he lifted a hand to my wrist, but he didn’t shove me off. His touch was gentle, questioning.
“Have you never been naked in front of a man before?” he asked, his tone maddeningly steady. His head tilted slightly, his hair damp at the temples from the steam. Then, as if stating a fact, he added, “And yours are pink.”
My jaw dropped. Heat flooded my face so fast I thought I might pass out. Did he just…?
“Hey!” I cut him off before he could continue. My voice cracked with humiliation and anger. “You don’t ask me foolish questions like that. Even if I had to be naked in front of someone, it wouldn’t be you. Of all people!”
The words rushed out, but even as I spoke, my thoughts betrayed me. What does he mean, mine are pink? The embarrassment curled deeper, twisting in my stomach.
“Why not?” His question came out so quietly I almost missed it, but his gaze was steady, unwavering.
“Because…” My throat closed. My eyes burned. “Because you’re not my husband. And you’re not my type. You’re a mons…”
The last word stuck, strangled before it fully left my mouth.
Because it wasn’t the full truth. Not entirely. His face… his body… everything about him screamed perfection in a way I hated myself for noticing. But his personality, his ruthlessness, the danger that clung to him like smoke, that was the monster. That was the part I couldn’t let myself want.
Before I could untangle the war inside me, his hand covered mine, warm, steady, deliberate. He didn’t pry me off, not yet, but he pressed gently until I felt my arms weakening against him.
His other hand rose, prying my fingers one by one from his eyes.
My breath caught. “Don’t…”
But he didn’t listen. His strength dwarfed mine, and though he wasn’t forceful, his persistence was undeniable. My palms slipped away from his face, falling uselessly to my lap.
His blue eyes locked onto mine, not drifting this time, not wandering, but burning with an intensity that pinned me in place.
“So you don’t view me as a man?” he asked. His voice was quieter now, deeper, threading into me like smoke I couldn’t escape.
I tried to turn my head, but his thumb brushed lightly against my jaw, holding me still.
“You fear me that much,” he continued, his gaze softer than I’d ever seen it, “that you only see me as a monster?”
The words landed like stones in the pit of my stomach. His voice wasn’t mocking, not this time. It wasn’t cruel or taunting. It was… searching. Like he needed my answer more than he wanted to admit.
The silence stretched between us, filled only by the soft lap of water against porcelain, the hiss of candles, and the uneven sound of my breathing.
My mind raced. What was I supposed to say? If I told the truth, that yes, I feared him, that yes, part of me only saw the monster, would he snap? Would his temper ignite and consume me? But if I lied, if I told him I didn’t fear him, would he believe it?
My lips parted, but no words came.
His grip on my hands loosened slightly, though he didn’t let me go. His eyes searched my face with a desperation that almost frightened me more than his anger ever had.
“Is that all I am to you?” he asked again, barely above a whisper. “A monster?”
My chest tightened. The air felt too thick, the heat of the bath suffocating. He was close enough that I could see the faint flecks of gray at his temples, the scar that cut across his jaw, the lines of exhaustion buried in his expression.
And for the first time, I didn’t just see the mafia king everyone feared. I saw a man wrestling with something I couldn’t name. A man at war with himself.
I swallowed hard, my throat raw. “I…”
The words caught again, stuck between truth and survival.
But before I could answer, before I could decide which mask to wear, he suddenly released my hands.
“If you want to go, I’ll let you leave,” he said quietly, rising from the edge of the tub. “My men will take you safely to the hospital. You’ll rewrite that exam you missed because of me.”
I blinked up at him, stunned. “Really?”
His eyes flickered, unreadable. “Seems you really hate me that much,” he murmured.
The shift in him was so abrupt it knocked the air from my lungs. Out of nowhere, he wasn’t holding me anymore. Out of nowhere, the man who had dragged me into his world wasn’t trying to keep me there.
I wanted to shout for joy, but instead I sat frozen, my heart hammering. I forced myself to act normal, to keep my face neutral even as hope began to bloom in my chest.
“Is that really possible?” I asked, my voice softer than I meant. “To take that exam?”
He didn’t answer.
I remembered who he was, the most dangerous man in the city. If he gave his word, things happened. He could make a threat disappear. He could bend the world to his will.
But as his eyes met mine again, something darker flashed there.
And in that moment, I wasn’t sure if I’d just been set free… or if I’d stepped into a trap I wouldn’t escape.
Then he smiled, small, almost unreadable, and gave a single nod. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the bathroom, his shirt damp from trying to bathe me, clinging to his back in dark patches.
I sat frozen in the water, heart hammering, watching his broad frame disappear through the doorway.
In the hallway, his voice drifted back, low and unhurried.
“I can see the smile you’re hiding, Isla. The thought of running away from me… it made you happy, didn’t it?”
The faint sound of his footsteps echoed as he ran his fingers through his wet hair, his tone laced with something between amusement and warning.