5

My eyes fluttered open, and I caught sight of Zaverio dressing up, his broad back and shoulders a vivid reminder of the passion we'd shared just hours before.

I pulled the sheets around me, my brows into a frown of confusion as I called out to him in a voice still laced with sleep. "Zaverio?"

He paused, his movements suspended as he turned to face me with his chiseled jaw clenched and brows cocked up.

"Where are you going?" I asked, my eyes narrowing slightly as I tried to read his expression.

For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of uncertainty, of an emotion I couldn't quite decipher, but it was quickly replaced by his usual confidence, his eyes turning cold.

"Out," he said curtly, his voice low and husky. "I have business to attend to."

I stared at him, my eyes locked on his orbs, searching for the truth behind his words. I didn't believe him, not entirely. There was something he wasn't telling me, but I didn't press the issue, not yet. Instead, I simply watched him, my heart pounding in my chest as he finished dressing and turned to leave.

The tension between us was unmistakable, and it was in the form of a living, breathing thing that pulsed with every beat of my heart. My heart constricted in my chest.

I eyed him, already feeling betrayed, and as if he knew what was on my mind, he sighed.

"Look, I understand, but I have to go see this, it's important," Zaverio said, and I scoffed, glaring at him.

"You can quit lying to me, Zaverio, you don't want to be seen with me. Why is that?" I asked, and he sighed, clearly impressed by my scrutinizing skills.

"I don't know," he admitted, deciding honesty was the best policy.

"So, you sleep with other house helps and don't bother to hide it, but when it comes to me, you do not want your mother to know?" I bitterly said in askance, and Zaverio's blue eyes softened ever so slightly.

"You know she doesn't like you," he admitted, and I shot him a glare.

"Fine, then why did you seduce me? Why did you take the risk when you knew I wouldn't say no to you?" I asked, my frustration boiling over.

Zaverio cursed under his breath, and just as he was about to respond, his mother's voice interrupted us. He froze, then ordered, "Get dressed now," and hastily exited my room.

I quickly threw on some clothes, and seconds later, Zaverio's mother poked her head in. Her eyes fell on me and then her lips curled into a snarl with disdain flashing in her eyes. My heart skipped a beat.

Mrs. Riccardo's harsh words sent me jumping out of my bed. "Still sleeping? Get out of that room and fix something! Do not get me angry, Alma. I can make your life hell in an instant."

I fled to the kitchen, seeking refuge in the familiar tasks of brewing coffee and herbal tea. My hands trembled slightly as I worked.

When Mrs. Riccardo descended the stairs, I presented her with herbal tea.

"Take Zaverio's coffee to his room, he must be tired," she instructed, her tone dismissive.

I sighed, feeling like the world was conspiring against me, constantly throwing me in the face of my prey. I wasn't sure I wanted to see Zaverio again, but fate kept throwing us together.

With a heavy heart, I knocked on Zaverio's door.

"Come in," his deep voice resonated.

As I entered, Zaverio emerged from the bathroom, clad only in a towel, his chiseled physique leaving me breathless. My eyes couldn't help but run down his chest which had balls of sweat gliding down it in the most sexy way.

"I came to give you your coffee," I stammered, my eyes fixed on his dominant and attractive form.

Zaverio's gaze locked onto mine, his eyes piercing. "Is that all?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he cocked up a brow.

My eyes darted away, my cheeks flushing. I dropped his tray of coffee on the table and attempted to leave, but Zaverio's grip on my arm halted me.

"Hey, I didn't ask you to leave," Zaverio said, grasping my hand and pulling me back.

"You don't have the right to tell me what to do," I replied, my voice firm.

Zaverio raised a brow. "Oh really, what would Mother say if I told her about what you just said?" He drawled, his tone mocking.

For a split second, panic filled my system at the mention of Mrs. Riccardo, but then a surge of confidence filled me. I knew what he wanted.

"You wouldn't," I said quietly, my eyes locked on him.

"Yes, I would," Zaverio said with a wicked smile, his eyes glinting with amusement. I swallowed a ball of saliva as my confidence wavered.

"Can I go now?" I asked, trying to sound calm.

Zaverio let go of my wrist and strode to his door, locking it.

His eyes burned with desire as he turned to face me. "Like I said, I can't get enough of you. I want you so bad," he said, his voice low and husky.

I frowned, feeling a pang of sadness. "You want my body, not me," I said, looking away as my throat tightened.

Zaverio fused his brows. "Aren't they the same thing?" He asked, his tone innocent.

I shook my head, my eyes welling up with tears.

"I know what you want, Zaverio. You want to use me, enjoy yourself to the fullest, then toss me aside like a used paper towel. You'd probably offer me a huge sum of money and ask me to never show my face around you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Isn't it?”

I watched him, searching his eyes for answers, desperately wanting him to deny all I had just said about him. Zaverio's Adams apple jerked as he gulped.

"I–" he was interrupted mid-sentence by the abrupt sound of his door being swung open.

Swiftly, he released my hand, and my eyes widened in fear once I got a whiff of her perfume.

"Zaverio, I have good–" the rest of Mrs. Riccardo's voice died in her throat as she stepped into the room.

Conflicting thoughts raced in my head.

What was I to do? Was I to turn and leave the room or stand like a statue, hoping she wouldn't see me?

She cleared her throat, and then, with severity in her tone, she asked, "What are you doing here, Alma?"

I spun to meet her scornful gaze while racking my brain for excuses.

"She just brought me a cup of coffee," Zaverio answered, and I wondered how he managed to sound so calm.

Mrs. Riccardo eyed me with disdain flashing in her brown orbs.

"Yes, ma'am. The coffee," I repeated after Zaverio and exited the room.

Once I was out, I stood beside the door, pressing my back against the wall in a bid to listen to their conversation.

"What was that all about?" She asked with an icy voice, and even without seeing her face, I could tell her eyes were narrowed into crinkled slits of suspicion.

"What do you mean?" Zaverio asked, still maintaining equanimity.

"You and Alma, stop playing dumb," Mrs. Riccardo snapped.

"Oh, nothing at all." He sounded dismissive.

"But you are in nothing but a towel, and there wasn't any considerable distance between you two when I walked in? Is that your definition of nothing, Zaverio?" She questioned.

"What could I possibly be doing with a maid?" He asked, and I swallowed a sharp breath, feeling as if I had been punched in the gut.

His words were like a storm in my chest that tossed my heart around.

I staggered back, feeling a pang of pain and betrayal.

"Mere maid," his words echoed in my head.

My jaw grew taut. What did I expect from a man like him?

"What are you doing?" A female voice sounded behind me, and I jerked away from the wall, whipping my head in her direction, I saw one of the maids, Salma.

"I–I was just leaving. I took coffee to Mr. Zaverio," I explained with a sheepish smile.

Salma eyed me with scepticism before saying, "The task master requests for your presence. He's in his room."

I nodded and headed towards his chamber.