Page 43 of To Hell

She looks up from the fabric and shakes her head with so much force I fear for her neck.

“I can never be mad at you,” she gets fidgety and I see that it’s far from what I was thinking. She is resigned, not mad.

“I have some news that might interest you,” I dive into it, needing to impress her and remove the veil of resignation.

It’s confusing.

I want to be close to her. I want her to see me as myself. But I know I shouldn’t be close to her. I know that in order to protect her, she must not know me as me.

“Cesare told me everything about your conversation with Valerie today, and... Valerie's collection, the one inspired by your story, has already sold four hundred and ninety-eight thousand pieces,” I pause, waiting for something. I don’t get it so I continue. “She's only two thousand short of reaching her goal.”

Now her eyes spread open, the most beautiful and unique shades of blue engrossed in the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen.

I shake my head slightly, muting the thought.

“That's amazing!” She yelps, standing and almost swinging around in delirium. “We have to go back to the fabric store and tell her. Maybe there's something we can do to help.”

This thing she is doing, this way she is feeling, that glow in her eye, the smile line on the curve of her lips, the eagerness in her voice, the way her body seems to be on high alert from the news—I can almost hear her heart beating from where I stand—all of it is infectious. It can make me burn the world to the ground for her.

“Have to?” I clip, holding onto my composure so she doesn’t see me salivating at her excitement.

"Uhm, actually, I forgot the buttons, so... We really do need to go back,” she clears her throat, fidgeting with the chalk in her hand.

I cock my head, “Buttons?”

“I did,” she mutters. “I was distracted, and I forgot.” She drops her eyes to her feet and pouts.

“She is coming here instead.” It’s too risky having her out twice a day, and besides, it will be better to meet with Valerie here than anywhere else.

“Xander,” I know he is lurking around, “Extend an invitation to Valerie and make sure she accepts.”

“Yes, Boss,” his voice resounds from somewhere around us.

“Eyes on me, Zoe,” I crane her curious gaze back to me, “Valerie will be here tomorrow so you can get your… buttons.”

She nods.

For someone who is trying to act nonchalant and hide how excited she is, she is nodding so hard that her head might fall off.

Buttons, my ass.

Chapter Twenty-Three

ZOE

My heartbeat is blaring in my ears as I wet my lips, chew the insides of my mouth, and stare at Ettore illuminated by the sunlight streaming in through the window.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him under bright enough lights, and it so happens to be the sun—my favorite shade of light on someone.

“Tomorrow then,” I drop my eyes, doing a backflip in my head at the thrilling news of Valerie coming around so we can get her the deal with her sponsor. We can collaborate. More than that, I can show her my sketches of Ettore’s suits, and she can make observations.

These observations I would hold dear to my heart.

“I’m setting up a room for you,” Ettore gently folds the file in his hand into three folds, “You need a place to sew,” he flips his eyes around my materials scattered on the floor.

“Why, does it disturb you?” I fidget, remembering my father, who hated the sight of my materials so much that I got hit for it. He might be dead, but the shadow of him still hovers. It is why I decided to hide under the staircase.

His eyes turn sharp, “You need a comfortable place to sew.”

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