Page 6 of Savage Proposal

I glared at her. “Great,” I spat. “I’m so grateful that he didn’t gut me in his office.”

“See?” she said jokingly. “You get it.” She squeezed me a little, and I almost melted into it.Pathetic, I thought. To be so ready for the smallest bit of comfort. “You’re a tough girl. That’s good; you’ll need to be.” She let me go with a little pat. “Come on,” she said. “Let me show you to your room.”

I followed Amalia through a butler’s pantry off the kitchen that led to a set of stairs that wound upward to the second floor. Then, we went down a long hallway, turned a corner, and went down yet another hallway. “How big is this place?” I asked.

Amalia shrugged. “Little more than 12,000 square feet or so,” she said. “But it’s homey, don’t you think?”

I glanced around. Despite the kitchen being bright and modern, the rest of the home was more traditional. Like he’d gotten the kitchen fully updated, and then decided to stop entirely. Not thatit was a bad thing: the built-ins, judge’s panels, and dark wood were lovely. But “homey” was the very last way I would describe it. Instead, the more we walked, the lonelier and more cut-off I felt.

We finally stopped outside a door that had been left ajar. Amalia pushed it open, and it was obvious why Lorenzo called it the blue room. The walls were painted a dark navy, which matched the canopy over the bed that was covered in a cream-colored duvet with navy accents. The room wasn’t overly large by any means, but it screamed opulence.

Amalia moved around the room as if she were doing an inspection. She touched the top of the dresser and looked at her finger. She turned on the lamp—the glow of it might just be the only thingwarmin the entire room—and seemed satisfied that someone had dusted it recently.

“The ensuite is through that door,” she said, pointing. “I usually have dinner on the table by seven. If you don’t want to come down, I’ll bring you something up.”

I nodded, sucking in a breath. “Can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Am I allowed to leave this room?”

Amalia’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment. “Of course you are,” she said, but then an apologetic look came over her face. “I wouldn’t try leaving the house, though. Lorenzo wouldn’t like that.”

“I won’t,” I promised.

“Then feel free to explore the house. Any room with an open door is fine to go in. Steer clear of the locked ones. Lorenzo’sthe only one with keys; the rest of us avoid them entirely.” She smiled, encouragingly. “Do you want to come back down to the kitchen with me?”

Theyeswas on the tip of my tongue—anything would be better than staying here— but I shook my head. “I think I’ll look around. Get my lay of the land, so to speak.”

Amalia nodded. “All right. See you at seven in the dining room for dinner.”

“Seven,” I echoed with a nod.

I was able to hold it together until Amalia closed my door behind her, and then I collapsed into a heap on the plush carpet. What the fuck was my life?

CHAPTER 4

Lorenzo

Isabella had been in the house for three days, and so far, I had been able to avoid her. Amalia deserved a raise for all the updates that she’d sent to my phone concerning Isabella’s whereabouts.

“Are you ever going to tell us why you brought that girl home?” Elio asked as he walked into my office. “Do wereallyneed an in-house nurse?”

Damian looked at Elio like he was a moron. “Did you imagine that he wouldn’t?” he asked. “She looks exactly like?—”

“Enough,” I said, cutting him off. No one said her name, not even me. “We have enough to do already without you two squabbling like a couple of old women.”

Elio and Damian were my closest confidants, brothers in all but blood, but both of them knew better than to ignore me. “Sure thing, boss man,” Elio said.

“The Gallos called for a meeting again,” Damian said after clicking through something on his phone. “They want to?—”

“I know what they want,” I said, trying not to grind my teeth. My dentist gave me hell at my last appointment. “Push it off.”

Damian frowned. “We’ve done that half a dozen times already.”

I looked at him, my expression flat. “So?”

“You’re going to need an heir soon, Enzo,” Elio said, nose wrinkling even as he said it. “You’re going to have to get married tosomeone.” I picked the letter opener up from my desk and threw it at him. He yelped when it sank into the flesh of his calf. “Motherfucker!” he yelled. He leaned down and pulled the opener out of his leg. A dot of blood appeared on his pant leg.

---