Page 18 of Forbidden Deception

“We should move the trees?” Oliver asks, brows pinched.

I look down to see I have pointed at the trees we are planting for the park section of the hotel.

“No, we need more trees. There aren’t enough,” I smoothly point out.

When Oliver starts talking again, I glance behind me to see that Venezia is gone. I scan the open floor until wispy hair comes into view, all the way in the corner. She’s wearing a bright neon yellow construction helmet and a high-vis vest, and she’s laughing while talking to the two people marking the floor.

I suck in a sharp breath.

“Is this not where you want it? The problem is an easy fix, I promise,” Oliver stresses, looking at me.

Fuck this. I don’t care.

“If it’s an easy fix, then why are you showing me? Report it to Headquarters. I asked to only be informed of serious problems, and this isn’t one of them.” Leaving him there, I walk over to Venezia, who seems to be getting comfortable with the workers.

I can’t do this.

I can’t keep babysitting this woman.

I follow her around wherever she goes during the whole three hours we are there. Plucking off these men like rotten fruit. She never needs my help. The one time one of them tried make a move on her, she straightened and put him in his place without thinking. One look from her had everyone else frozen in place. A flicker of admiration for her warms my chest.

And when it was time to head home, I drop her off at the office building.

“See you tomorrow, Mr Gustav.” She waves while tucking hair behind her ear.

I nod at her in acknowledgement.

She straightens, and instead of walking to the garage or phoning a taxi, she starts to walk past my car. Does she not have a ride home?

The weather is already gusty and gloomy; it’s also likely to start raining. A loud crack of thunder booms through the darkening sky, and concern for this irritating woman sparks within me.

She’s still walking with no care in the world, no umbrella, no ride or anything.

“Home, sir?”

I blink and look away from Venezia’s retreating figure towards my driver.

I should—No, she will take it as me liking her or whatever.

“Yes.”

Sliding my window up, I force myself not to look out as my car passes her, but when we turn ahead at the junction, I look into the side mirror of the car just to see if she truly is walking home.

She was going the same way.

Halfway through the ride home, rain starts pouring. It splatters heavily on the car, and my mind reels back to Venezia.

Stop thinking about her.

That smart woman will probably bother someone and force them to give her a ride home.

Of course she will.

She’s confident and chaotic like that.

7

The nerves are twisting inside of me every minute I look at Rafael’s phone. It’s right there, but I can’t reach for it. Two weeks of no mistreatment doesn’t mean I will be given access to Rafael’s phone.

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