Page 67 of The Mob Boss' Pet

The house is quiet when we get home. Roberto takes Sarah up to his room to get his things. Stephania removed the PICC line this morning before the service. He’s free of her services. Another week and she’ll take out the stitches, but he doesn’t need to stay here that long.

He never needed to stay here. It was an excuse. My overprotectiveness of my little brother and my obsession with Stephania kept him bound to my house.

Stephania takes off her coat and hangs it on the pegs near the front door. The dress Sarah lent her is a little loose on top. The dip of the neckline exposes the small curve of her breasts. Even with the black curtain wrapping around me, my cock still reacts to the beauty she possesses.

Anderson gave her a chance to flee. She could have told him everything about this week. I’d be in cuffs right now instead of watching her climb the stairs to my bedroom. But she didn’t. She said nothing.

I don’t want to get away from you.

A dull ache balloons inside of me with every replaying of her words. She wasn’t trying to placate me; she meant them.

Her footsteps are quiet on the hallway carpet, but each step leaves a deep imprint on me. I follow her into the bedroom and close the door softly behind me. Stripping out of my suit jacket, I toss it onto an armchair.

Stephania kicks out of her shoes and climbs up onto the bed, tucking her feet beneath her. I pull my phone out of my pocket, pausing for a breath before I tap out a message to Charlie.

“You’ve been quiet,” she says from the bed. She grabs an elastic band from the nightstand and works her thick hair into a messy ponytail.

“It’s been a long day,” I offer as an excuse.

She frowns. “I wish I could make it better.”

Another shot of pain spreads through my chest. Words fail me. There’s nothing to be said that will make the rest of the day better.

She reaches for the nightstand again, this time the pink collar her target.

“Stephania,” I say, stopping her. She grabs it and looks up at me.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t.” I move to her side and gently tug the collar from her fingers.

Hurt explodes in her eyes. “Don’t?”

“You don’t need this anymore,” I say, fisting the damn thing in my hand. What the hell had I been thinking?

She unfolds her legs and scoots to the edge of the bed. “Vincenzo—” She’s interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

“One second,” I say.

“Here you go, boss.” Charlie hands me a suitcase. I nod to him and close the door again. When I turn around with the empty case in my hands, Stephania is on her feet, staring at me.

“What’s going on?” she asks. A quiver shakes her words. “Vincenzo?”

I bring the suitcase to the bed and place it on the bed, popping it open.

“Roberto’s better,” I say, trying to sound like my insides aren’t on fire.

She eyes the suitcase. “I know.”

“You don’t need to be here anymore,” I tell her and go to the dresser where her clothes had been folded and put away during her time with me. I open the first drawer and pick up a stack of leggings. She loves leggings, they’re comfortable like pajama pants without looking like she’s lazing around all day. That’s what she told me, anyway.

“But...” Her voice trails off when I grab the short stack of jeans and put them with the leggings. “You’re sending me home?”

I look up at her; hurt screams at me from her features.

“I told you when Roberto was better, you could go.” I lift a shoulder. It’s best I rip this Band-Aid off. No room for regret.

“Yeah, but. I thought... I mean...” She rubs her hands across her eyes, trying to hide the tears forming there. “What if I don’t want to go?”