Page 50 of Resisting the Bossy Billionaire

She was flying from pain. He was flying to it. And he wouldn’t even have her by his side to...

He stopped pacing abruptly.

A wave of revulsion at the direction his thoughts had tried to take washed through him.

Dio, he was despicable.

Was he seriously trying to suggest to himself that he’d only agreed to Benito’s request because he’d subconsciously thought having Victoria there would make it bearable?

There was a knock on his door quickly followed by it opening and Ryan stepping in.

‘It is customary to wait for an affirmative response before entering a room,’ Marcello snarled.

The shock on Ryan’s face brought him up short.

Running his fingers through his hair, he took a deep breath. ‘I apologise.’

‘No, my fault,’ Ryan said, backing out of the office.

A sudden image of Victoria backing into his apartment’s elevator flashed before him. The smiling wave she’d given him.

‘Ciao, amigo.’

‘Amigo is Spanish.’

‘I know.’

‘You can’t quit over a bagel.’

‘I just did.’

Suddenly he found himself unable to draw breath. The walls of his office were closing in on him, perspiration breaking out over his skin.

‘Sir?’

Ryan’s voice broke through.

Marcello looked at the young man doing everything he could to impress and prove he could replace Victoria.

But no one could replace her. No one could even come close. Not in any aspect of his life.

Head spinning, the walls crowding ever closer, he headed to the door. He needed air.

Travelling the elevator to the ground floor with no memory of getting in it, he stepped from the lobby into the crisp winter daylight of the pedestrian plaza his building faced. People going about their business at the end of the working day. Workers with their heads down. Tourists with their phones out snapping photos. A young father in unsuitable winter clothes holding the hand of a toddler dressed in a snowsuit...

‘You can’t quit over a bagel.’

‘I just did.’

He put a hand to his chest and tried to pull air into his uncooperative lungs.

The child stumbled. The father scooped him up. Marcello couldn’t tear his gaze from them.

Livia floated in his vision.

‘You are allowed to move on too, Marcello.’

‘I’m good.’

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