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SamanthaBelongs to © n0velDrama.Org.
As the shock keeps rippling through me, I cover my mouth with my hand.
My eyes are glued to Mr. Vitale’s face, and it takes a moment before I can process his expression. His features are torn with worry.
It’s weird seeing him like this. Even when we were attacked, he kept his cool.
He’s always come across as broody, rude, and overly arrogant.
This isn’t my mystery man who’s only shown me patience and affection.
I shake my head again, unable to believe I’ve been so stupid.
In my defense, why would a billion-dollar CEO also run a taboo sex club? During the day, he’s always abrupt while barking orders at me, and at night, he’s gentle.
It didn’t even cross my mind the two men might be one and the same person, because they were worlds apart.
Sure, at times, it felt like there was something familiar about him, but it never stuck.
“This was not a game to me,” Mr. Vitale says with a pleading look. “When I had to step in because your partner fucked up, I took over because you’re my assistant. I couldn’t let some idiot upset you. I wanted to help you, Samantha.”
I cross my arms over my chest and lower my eyes to the floor.
His voice sounds a little hoarse as he continues, “That first night we spent together made me see how strong you are. I was amazed and wanted
more time with you.”
At my expense.
“You started making progress, and I didn’t want to ruin that.” He pauses for a moment, and I hear him take a deep breath. “I fell so fucking hard and fast for you. I couldn’t risk losing you, so I continued being an asshole at work so you wouldn’t catch on.”
Silence falls between us, and I know he’s waiting for me to say something, but I can’t bring myself to speak.
“Close your eyes,” he whispers. I shake my head hard.
“Please,” he begs, sounding like my mystery man.
My eyebrows draw together, and I struggle not to cry as I shut my eyes. I hear him move closer, and my body tenses.
He’s a couple of inches away from me when he whispers, “You’re safe with me.”
My throat constricts, and I shake my head.
When his fingers brush over the curve of my jaw, I flinch.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” His tone is gentle and caring, and it screws with my mind.
I’m torn between my love for my mystery man and my hatred for my boss.
The two emotions war in my chest, shredding my heart to pieces.
His palm cups my cheek, and I gasp at the storm it causes inside me. “I love you.”
I hear the truth in his words, but I can’t equate them with something Mr.
Vitale would say.
My heart keeps breaking, and unable to stop a sob from escaping, it bursts over my lips as I cry, “Why couldn’t you be Quasimodo? Why did
you have to be the man who’s given me so much hell at work? Why do you have to be a mafia boss?” My breaths quiver over my lips, and my chest shudders. “I want my mystery man back.”
His arms wrap around me, and he gently pulls me into a hug. “I’m still your mystery man.”
I shake my head against his chest.
His touch is soft as he takes hold of my chin. He nudges my face up, and when I feel his breath fan over my lips, he says, “I’m still here, baby.”
His mouth brushes against mine, and a sob sputters from me. With my eyes closed, he’s the man I’ve fallen in love with. “I don’t want to lose you,” I whimper against his lips.
“You won’t.” The words sound like a promise.
He kisses me tenderly, and I feel the strong connection between us. Lifting his head an inch, he whispers, “Look at me, baby.”
“No,” I sob. “You’ll disappear.” “I’m right here. You can feel me.”
Another sob ripples over my lips as I slowly open my eyes.
The moment my gaze focuses on Mr. Vitale, everything feels wrong.
The corner of his mouth lifts slightly, then he says, “I’m the mystery man you fell for.”
My eyes search his dark brown irises, and I don’t see the annoyance I’ve gotten used to in the office. Instead, his gaze is filled with affection.
I lower my eyes to his shirt as I try to process my boss and my mystery man being the same person.
My boss – my arrogant, rude, head-of-a-crime-family, dangerous asshole boss – is my mystery man.
Pulling away from him, I cross my arms over my chest again, then admit, “I don’t know how to process this, Mr. Vitale.”
“Franco,” he murmurs. “My name is Franco, Samantha.”
This is insane.
I fear him, yet I can’t stop this insane attraction I have for him. I can’t just magically flip a switch and erase my feelings for him.
The hate and love keep warring in my chest, and right now, I have no idea which emotion will prevail.
Lifting a hand, I wipe my palm over my forehead before saying, “I need time to wrap my mind around everything.”
“I understand.”
My anger surfaces again, and my eyes snap to his stupidly handsome face as I exclaim, “Do you? Really?”
“I know this is a shock for you, but we can work through it.”
I let out an incredulous burst of laughter while shaking my head. “Yeah, I’m not so sure about that.”
His features tighten, and I watch him change from my mystery man to my boss. His tone is determined as he says, “I won’t lose you.”
Throwing my arms open, I yell, “You never had me!”
He moves fast, and before I can even think about backing away, his fingers wrap around my throat. With his face an inch away from mine, he says, “You’re mine, Samantha. I will do everything in my power to keep you from leaving me.”
He doesn’t hurt me, and seeing the flare of panic in his eyes, I realize he means every word.
His palm moves up to my jaw, and his expression softens as he whispers, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Give me a chance to prove I’m the man you fell in love with.” He tilts his head and gives me a pleading look. “Please.”
“I have to think about everything,” I say. My tongue darts out to wet my lips before I continue, “I can’t just magically change how I feel.”
He stares at me for a moment, and I see this is difficult for him as well. “Do you have any questions you want to ask me?”
I shake my head. “I’m not ready to talk.”
“You can call me anytime,” he says. “Or just message me.”
An incredulous chuckle ripples over my lips. “Yeah? On which phone?” “It doesn’t matter.”
Right.
“I’m going home.”
I turn around, and walking out of the bedroom, I head to the staircase. I hear him behind me, then he says, “I’ll take you home.”
“No.” I rush down the stairs, just wanting to get out of this mansion.
“Samantha.” His tone is harsher. “This is not up for discussion. I’m taking you home.”
The moment I dart into the foyer, Mr. Vitale grabs me by my forearm, and I’m dragged through the living room and out onto the veranda.
“You’re insufferable!” I snap at him.
“And you’re stubborn.” He opens the passenger door. “We make a great pair.”
“Like hell, we do,” I mumble before climbing into the G-Wagon.
I pull the safety belt over my chest and clip it in place before I cross my arms over my chest.
When Mr. Vitale slides in behind the steering wheel, I turn my face away from him and stare at the mansion.
The drive to my apartment is filled with tension, and when he parks the G-Wagon in front of my building, he says, “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
I shove the door open. “Only because I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
Getting out, I slam the door shut, and without a backward glance, I walk into the building.
When I lock my front door behind me, my body begins to tremble. I rush to my bedroom and strip out of the stupid dress I wore for him.
Immense anger and heartache rip through me, and sitting on the floor with my back against the bed, I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them. I bury my face in the crook of my arm and cry my eyes out.
Just as I thought I found a good man, he turns out to be my boss. And a freaking mob boss.
Why does it keep happening to me?