Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Annalisa 

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

My heart hammered in my chest as I leaned against the cool stone wall in the hallway, trying to catch my breath. What was his deal? I wasn’t even eavesdropping, and yet Cristiano had looked at me like I had committed some kind of terrible offense. I was only worried about him—while he took the call, he had seemed so tense with his eyebrows furrowed. But that cold, wicked look he had given me when our eyes met…it scared me more than I cared to admit.

Why was he always like this? One moment, he seemed almost kind, like he cared about my well-being. The next, he became distant, harsh, like the mere sight of me annoyed him. I hated it.

I needed some air, I needed to clear out the racing thoughts in my head. Before I knew it, I found myself outside. And yes, the cool breeze was really doing great to calm me. To my surprise, the garden I was in was filled with a wide bed of roses. Although the garden seemed out of place, as though it had been left untouched for ages, the flowers had grown wild and unkempt, some of them were even drooping from lack of care, but it still looked beautiful. Who would have thought Cristiano would have something like this on his property?

The air was fresh, the atmosphere was serene, and the sweet smell of roses filling my nostrils as I walked between the flower beds made all the tension from the house loosen from my shoulders. It was very peaceful here, unlike the unease I felt around Cristiano. My fingers trailed gently over the soft petals of a rose, admiring the deep red color. But as I reached for the most beautiful and bright one, I felt a sharp sting.

“Ow!” I gasped before I could stop myself, pulling my hand back quickly. The thorns from the flower had pricked my skin, and a tiny drop of blood was dripping out of my index finger.

Before I could even process the pain, a strong hand grabbed mine, pulling it away from the flower. I was startled, but as I looked up, I found myself face-to-face with Cristiano. His eyes were narrowed in frustration.

“Damn it,” Cristiano muttered, his voice filled with irritation as he examined my hand. “You should’ve been more careful. This is going to leave a scar.”

“Cristiano,” I whispered, still surprised by how quickly he had appeared. Where had he come from? And why was he acting so…protective?

He didn’t answer me. Instead, he raised his voice, calling out, “Is there anyone there? Call a doctor!”

A maid suddenly came out from around the corner and bowed, before quickly starting to walk toward the mansion.

“No, wait!” I protested, taking my hand out of his grip. “Cristiano, I’m fine. It’s just a prick—nothing deep.”

But before I could pull away completely, he grabbed my hand again, this time a bit gentler. To my utter shock, Cristiano brought my injured finger to his mouth and sucked on it. He really sucked on it! My stomach churned in response to his warm and soft tongue against my small wound. There was this strange heat spreading through my body at the unexpected intimacy Cristiano was giving me.

My body was frozen at that spot, unsure of how to react. This was the same cold man who had just glared at me moments ago, and now he was acting like this? My mind raced with so many thoughts as I tried to make sense of it all, but all I could focus on was the way his mouth moved over my finger, and how oddly tender his touch felt. It was confusing, but I admit that I enjoyed it.

“This is why you should have the maids do things for you,” he complained, finally pulling away and examining my finger again. The bleeding had stopped, but his hand was still holding mine firmly, like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

“I’m really fine, Cristiano,” I repeated, pulling my hand from his grip and wiping it against my patterned dress. It was just a simple cut that didn't worth any of the fuss he was giving. “Why are you making such a big deal out of something so small?”

Cristiano's eyes darkened as he glanced back at the rose bush. “Those flowers have been there unkempt for ages. What if you got infected?”

“I didn’t,” I said firmly, though his sudden concern caught me off guard. “Why didn’t I notice you were so close behind me?”

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” he murmured, his voice softening for just a moment. “You looked…happy.”

I blinked at him, unsure how to respond. Happy? It was such a strange word coming from him, someone who rarely showed any emotion other than irritation or indifference.

“Oh,” I muttered, feeling a bit foolish for being caught off guard by such a simple statement. I wasn’t used to him speaking like this—gentle. No, I wasn't used to him as a whole.

His smirk returned, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his tailored trousers. “You’re one of those girls who likes flowers?”

“Well, some of us know how to appreciate nature,” I shot back, unable to help myself. “Unlike someone who’s standing right in front of me.”

To my surprise, he let out a brief smile that softened his normally harsh face. It was such a rare sight that for a moment, I forgot who I was talking to. But then, as quickly as it appeared, his smile vanished. His expression grew cold again as he looked behind me with squinted eyes.

I turned, wondering what got his attention, but there was nothing there. Just the beds of roses, moving gently in the breeze. When I looked back at him, his face had hardened into that familiar, intimidating look. The same one he had on his face when he scolded me in the hallway.

“What?” I asked, in a soft, unsure voice. “Did I say something wrong?”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he turned his head slightly and called out to the maid, who had been standing nearby with her head bowed. “I want them cleared out before tomorrow.”

My heart sank, and I took a step toward him, my voice rising in protest. “Wait, what?! Cristiano, why are you getting rid of them? They just need trimming—”

“I told you to follow my rules,” he interrupted coldly, his gray eyes locking onto mine with a kind of intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Well, yes, but—”

“This one is included now,” he said in a firm tone. “I don’t want to see you here.”

And with that, he turned and left.