Page 35 of Satin Empire

I shake my head and take a few steps closer. The SUV is on the big side for a city car, and it’ll be a pain in the ass to maneuver around the narrow Philly streets, but the moment I put my hand on the door, I burst into tears.

They tear from my throat before I can stop them. I cover my face, sobbing into my hands, and Carlo hovers over me not sure what the hell to do. Which is fair, this isn’t the reaction he was expecting.

It’s not the reaction I would’ve expected either. Except I can’t help myself.

“Shit, I can get you something else,” he says, pulling me into a hug. “Come on, it’s not that bad, is it?”

“No, it’s fine,” I say and wrap my arms around him. He smells like pine and mint, and his muscular bulk is like candy against my skin. I want to kiss him, but I’m an ugly, crying mess right now. “It’s better than fine. It’s amazing.”

“It’s just a car,” he says, bewildered.

“You don’t understand.” I move away from him, wiping my face with both hands. God, the guy already thinks I’m a freaking child, and here I am sobbing in his driveway.

“Then explain it to me,” he says, dragging me back into a tight hug. A couple hours ago, he was trying his best to avoid looking at me, and now he’s staring with a mixture of terror and concern in his eyes.

“My stepdad used to have me followed,” I say quietly, looking anywhere but his face. I’m embarrassed about this, even though I know it’s not my fault. It’s not like I did anything to make Orsino turn into a controlling psychopath—he just decided that I had too much freedom and wanted to take it all away.

“Seriously?” he pressed, rubbing a hand along my back. God, that feels good.

“I wasn’t allowed to breathe without running it past him first, and he always said no. He acted like if he let me spend the night at a friend’s house, I’d end up railing a bunch of strangers and doing drugs or something. It got pretty bad after I graduated high school.” I lean back and glance at his expression. He looks angry, and it makes my guts sink down into my feet. Maybe he feels the same way Orsino does, and the car has a tracking device installed or something—but Carlo’s shaking his head.

“What a piece of shit,” he murmurs, and my fingers dig into his arms. “It’s so fucking common in our world. Fathers treating their daughters like they aren’t even people. Like they’re objects that have to be controlled then traded away.”

“That’s exactly how it felt,” I say, confused by the spark of hope blooming in my chest. “And I guess this car is like the opposite of that. Orsino would never have let me drive, not in a million years, because then I could go wherever I wanted.”

“Listen to me, baby.” He stoops down and stares into my face. “I don’t own you. I don’t control you. If you want to go somewhere, fucking go somewhere. I want you to keep me informed, but only as a partner, not as a prisoner.”

“Right. Yeah. That’s… normal and healthy.”

“Are you surprised?”

“A little bit. I don’t have a lot of experience with… guys like you.”

He laughs gently and tilts my chin toward him. Then he kisses me, and I lean into that kiss, even though I’m a total wreck and he must think I’m pathetic. But I don’t care—he tastes good, and he feels good, and right now I’m more into him than I’ve ever been before. This kindness is overwhelming, and his tongue drives me wild, and his lips make my body react in ways I didn’t think were possible.

But he breaks it off, breathing hard. We linger there, his eyes on mine, before a sly smile slips across his face. “Want to take it out?”

“You mean, go for a drive?”

“Sure, we can go wherever you want. Or you can drive alone if you want.”

“What about your truck?”

He waves a hand. “I’ll have one of the guys take it home, don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, wow, must be nice having that sort of privilege.”

“Sure as fuck is. What do you say? Should we drive?”

I wrap my arms around his neck and bury his mouth with mine. I promised myself I wasn’t going to do this—but the orgasm last night and this sudden gesture must’ve scrambled my brain, because I’m definitely getting little moth-wings in my guts.

“Let’s drive,” I say and get behind the wheel.

Chapter 18

Carlo

I kick my feet up on the table and take a long sip of whiskey as the evening breeze slips down my arms. The back yard isn’t much to look at—some grass, a little concrete, a few plants—but it’s a private outdoor space in an old city that hasn’t quite figured out how to use all the available land. Houses out here are stacked right on top of each other in endless rows, and in a lot of neighborhoods, they don’t have much behind them.

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