3

The next morning, I stood in the kitchen, getting my work for the day done. My heart was heavy, and I couldn't stop the flashes of their naked bodies from flooding my head. 

The door to the kitchen opened, and I looked up from the breakfast I was preparing to see Zaverio standing there with a smile on his handsome face. I turned away, unable to bear the sight of him.

I felt a venomous rage coursing through my veins, and it took everything in me not to lash out at him. 

How could he forget what we had as teenagers, when I gave myself to him completely? 

He had promised to come back for me, to marry me. But it was all a lie. His betrayal was like the sharp edges of a sword piercing through my heart. I couldn't look at him, couldn't stand the sight of his smile, his eyes, his face. Everything about him felt like a lie.

“Please, don't come close, please don't,” I thought, but my prayers were unanswered as a huge hand landed on my shoulder and spun me around. 

"Don't touch me," I snarled, trying to sound braver than I felt as I shrugged his hand off my shoulder. 

He raised a brow at my attitude, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. 

His gaze was too unnerving, causing me to lower mine to the floor as I held on to self-restraint.  

"Relax," he drawled. "I only came for my early morning coffee. Did you make some?" He asked, his tone dripping with nonchalance. 

Wrinkling my nose in distaste, I pointedly ignored him, handing him a steaming cup of coffee instead. 

His brows furrowed at my cold behavior, but he arched his brows as if entertained by my reaction. 

Frustration surged through me; I hated his guts. One day I was overjoyed to see him, the next I was avoiding him like a plague. His smile widened, and I could sense his amusement at my behavior, which only annoyed me more.

"So, Alma, how long have you been here?" Zaverio asked, his voice propelled the hairs on my nape and twisted my stomach into knots. I hated that he still had this effect on me. 

I ignored him again, turning my back against him, grabbing the kitchen towel, and using it to wipe the counter in a bid to send him away. But he didn't take the hint. He growled and grabbed my arm, spinning me to face him. 

A gasp slipped out of my lips as air whipped my face from the way I was harshly turned. My pulse raised and my throat tightened as his touch against my skin scorched me. 

“Let me go,” I muttered, trying to snatch my wrist out of his grip, but he glared at me, hypnotizing me with his eyes. 

I tried to pull away again, but his grip tightened. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I noticed his patience wearing out. 

"I am talking to you," he said through clenched teeth, his voice low and dangerous.

I glared at him, my eyes flashing with anger. "Take your filthy hands off me," I spat, trying to shake off his grip. 

He stared at me, confusion etched on his face before his eyes widened in realization and then they danced in silent laughter. A wry smile spread across his face, and a low laugh escaped his lips. 

"Oh, I see," he said in a tone that dripped with amusement.

I narrowed my eyes into crinkled slits, waiting to know what he had seen. 

“You saw me last night, huh?” He arched his brows, and I broke eye contact, feeling my heart constrict in my chest.

Zaverio stared at me for a while, then burst into cold, mocking laughter. “My God, Alma, quit being so childish. I can have intimate relations with whoever it pleases me to,” he said with a grin, and I snapped my head up in shock before narrowing my eyes into crinkled slits. 

“Oh, really?” I asked sarcastically, and Zaverio shrugged. He really didn’t care what I thought. 

“If you want, we can have sex too. We did it multiple times in the past, you know,” he said, winking at me, and my jaw dropped. 

How could he say that? When did he become so cold and mean? Wasn't he the one professing sweet nothings to me last night? I was dazed at his behavior. 

I snapped my mouth shut, pressing it together in disapproval. 

“You call me childish?” I started, grunting. “Did you forget the promise you made to me when we were younger? Did you forget how you snuck into my room last night, telling me how much you missed me?” 

Zaverio's blue eyes darkened as if he didn’t like that memory. Instantly, his grip around my wrist loosened and I clutched it, nursing it with tears stinging my eyes. 

It hurt. 

“We were young, Alma. Young and foolish. We didn’t know what we were doing then,” he announced and sipped his coffee, ending that chapter of the conversation with nonchalance glinting in his cold eyes. “Last night… I was intoxicated.” 

Maybe he was right. “Great then!” I said, my voice laced with sarcasm. 

“Now, if you would excuse me, I'd like to give your mother her herbal tea.” I made to go, but Zaverio blocked my path. He towered over me with his now intimidating height. I scowled and shoved him, but he didn’t budge an inch.

"I wouldn't advise you to do that," he warned, his serious tone piercing through my anger. 

I glared at him, my eyes blazing with anger and hurt. 

"You've changed, Zaverio. You're mean and a bully. I despise you," I spat, my voice trembling with emotion. I could feel the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

He raised a brow, his expression unyielding, and I felt a surge of frustration. How could he be so calm, so detached, when I was dying inside? My throat tightened. 

"Really, Alma?" He arched his brows and silent laughter danced in his eyes. "We both know that's not true. You love me."

My heart twisted at his words, a painful reminder of the truth. I did love him, with every fiber of my being. But he was breaking my heart, piece by piece, and he seemed to be enjoying it. I felt a surge of anger and humiliation, and I lashed out, stomping on his foot with all my might. But he stood there, unmoving, unfeeling, like a statue. It was infuriating.

"You're impossible!" I hissed, my voice barely audible as my stomach boiled in anger. "You're breaking my heart, Zaverio. Don't you care?"

His unwavering gaze lingered on my face, his eyes stared into mine with no emotions. Right there and then, I knew I was fighting a battle I had already lost. 

"Get out of my..." I started, frustration getting the better of me, but Zaverio swooped in, clutching my hand and snatching the teacup from my grasp. He placed it back on the kitchen sink and it made a gentle clink, his eyes never leaving mine. 

I tried to slap him, but he was too strong. He didn't release my wrists. Instead, he pinned me against the wall, our bodies smoldering together as he claimed my lips in a fierce kiss. My pulse raced. 

I resisted at first, trying to push him away, but he placed his knee in between my legs and sucked on my bottom lip. I kissed him back, lashing my tongue against his, leaving us both breathless. 

Suddenly, I remembered Mrs. Riccardo's tea and pulled away, gasping. 

Disgust washed over me for letting him kiss me even after what he did.   

Zaverio tried to draw me back in, but I slapped him hard across the cheek, the sound echoing through the kitchen. We stared at each other in silence with both our chests heaving. 

A grin graced his lips, his eyes sparkling with triumph, and I felt a flutter in my chest. I grabbed the tea and fled the room, leaving him to his coffee. 

As I rushed to deliver the tea, my mind raced with what had just happened. Zaverio's kiss had left me reeling, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding something behind his charming smile. 

His words echoed in my mind: “We were young and foolish." We were? Yet, he couldn't keep his hands off me in the kitchen. Maybe he just wanted me to warm his bed like the other maids. 

A shiver ran down my spine as I realized I was just a pawn in his game of pleasure and power. I clenched my jaw, I wouldn't let him have me. 

Knocking softly on the door, I listened for permission to go into Mrs. Riccardo's room. 

The handle twisted open and the face of a fellow maid, named Ana materialized in front of me. 

“Mrs. Riccardo is having her bath,” she announced. 

I extended the tea to her, saying, “I just wanted to give her this.” 

Ana collected the tea from my hand and I walked down the hall, heading back to the kitchen. 

I stopped in my tracks once I saw Zaverio walking down the stairs with Hector beside him. 

“Take me to the office Hector, we have a lot to discuss. I also want a list of the people who let the market go bad. They would be dealt with,” he said in a menacing tone, venom dripping down his voice, and I hid behind a wall, watching them. 

“Yes, boss,” Hector replied. 

“Good, get me my cigar,” Zaverio instructed as they disappeared into the foyer. 

I made it to my room window and peeked at him from behind my blinds. He had his phone glued to his ear, and he seemed agitated. I noticed his face turning red with frustration. 

With that, he threw his phone on the floor and hopped into his car. One of his men picked it up and joined him in the backseat. 

I frowned deeply, wondering what had gotten him so upset as I watched the car zoom out of the place.