Page 134 of Heart of a Villain

Adrían turned around.

With him standing behind Chefe, when their gazes connected, he smiled and quickly raised an eyebrow as if to say: “Of course, I’m here. Where else would I be?”

“Mr. Gano.” She bowed her head. “What can I do for you?”

“Your menu,” he said. “I would like to make a change.”

“Well, the food has already been?—”

“You’re here to listen and take orders, not debate or negotiate, Juliana.”

Since the nightclub fiasco, Adrían hadn’t shown much interest in making love to her, so she’d made no move to approach him. But it was never because she didn’t want to. Very little would make her not want this man.

She tipped her head. “Yes, sir.”

“I want you to get rid of the Tempero Baiano and replace it with Ensopado de Carne Moida.”

“With all due respect, sir?—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“That will throw off the rotation, replacing chicken with beef,” she said, anyhow. “We would have to redo the aperitifs, and?—”

“With all due respect, I do not care.”

Chefe shoved onto his feet and placed a hand on her forearm. “Juliana, you’ve never met this man before. I know him. Don’t contest him. Do as he says. Had I learned he was alive months ago,” he glanced back at Adrían, “he would have been my son-in-law, not that puto, Lorenzo. Submit. Learn your place and your role, both as a woman and as a servant. Be lucky that you have some rights because we both know that you should have none.”

With a squeeze, Chefe left.

Adrían watched him go, his brows knitted. Then, his attention slowly shifted to her. “Olà, minha amada. Come to me.”

She pointed over her shoulder. “I should probably close the door.”

“Did I ask you to?”

“I know that look.”

“I know you know this look, and I said leave the door,” he motioned with a flick of his index finger, “and come to me. Now.”

Realistically, this should have been the point where they hugged and kissed and where she shared her relief about seeing his face not only in Brazil, but inside the organization.

Instead, she found herself leaning over the desk, her dress around her waist and her panties around one ankle, one of her breasts spilling out of her bra. He pulled her hair and fucked out of her what words neither of them could say. Each deep plunge and her quiet, answering gasp was an entire conversation:

Adrían: “Are you okay?”

Sayeda: “I’m much better now that you’re here.”

Adrían: “I’m sorry it took so long.”

Sayeda: “You’re right on time. I missed you.”

Adrían. “I missed you too.”

Sayeda: “What now?”

Adrían: “Do you trust me?”

Sayeda: “Yes.”

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