Page 79 of Take Me Under

He pulled me toward a small jewelry shop, its window filled with delicate, handcrafted Italian necklaces and earrings.

“That necklace,” he said and pointed to a simple ruby heart on a thin gold chain. The deep red stone seemed to flicker in the late afternoon sun. It wasn’t large or flashy, yet it still demanded attention. “It reminds me of the ruby you wore at the Met Gala. Do you still have it?”

I shook my head. “No, I sent it back to Madeleine as soon as I returned to Italy.”

He turned, his gaze lingering on me, his expression unreadable.

“That’s a shame. It suited you.”

I looked back at the ruby heart again and shrugged.

“I’ve never been much into jewelry.”

Reaching up, he traced a line along my collarbone. My core tightened, and I sucked in a sharp breath, once again surprised by my instant reaction to him.

“This necklace makes me think of the first time I saw you—and the first time I fucked you. You were wearing a ruby around your neck, and nothing else.” The quiet way he gave voice to the memory made my pulse stutter. “This neck was made for jewels, princess. And I’m going to give them to you.”

“Anton, I don’t really need—” I paused when a flicker of movement caught my eye in the reflection of the jewelry store window. Zeke stood a few feet away, watchful as always. I shifted my attention back to Anton, ready to continue my protest, but he had already slipped inside the store. “Oh, for crying out loud.”

I shook my head, then entered the store. He’d already done enough for me. The last thing he needed to do was buy me jewelry. I had no use for such frivolity.

I caught up to him just as he was speaking to the shop owner, an older man with sharp, perceptive eyes. The exchange between them was brief, but Anton’s decisive tone left no room for negotiation.

“Ah,signore,” the shopkeeper said, nodding appreciatively as he retrieved the necklace from its velvet display. “An excellent choice. A piece like this—it speaks. Understated, but full of fire. Like yourbella donna, sì?”

Anton’s lips curved slightly. “Exactly.”

“Anton,” I hissed, reaching for his arm. “You don’t have to buy me that.”

His head turned slowly, his eyes pinning me in place. “I know.”

“Then don’t.” I kept my voice low, aware of the shopkeeper’skeen gaze and the few other customers browsing nearby. “I don’t need jewelry. I don’t evenwearjewelry.”

The older man let out a low chuckle as he set the necklace onto a velvet tray. “Ah, but that is because no one has given you the right jewelry before.”

Anton smirked. “She’s just being stubborn.”

“She is a woman,” the shopkeeper said with a shrug. “But a man who knows what he wants? He does not hesitate.”

I scowled at his presumptiveness and glanced down at the necklace on the tray. The price tag was plainly visible, and I nearly choked at the cost. I was pretty sure that amount was enough to feed a small village for a day. I quickly looked back up at Anton, not bothering to hide my shock.

Something dark flickered in his expression. “It’s my money to spend, and I want you to have this.”

I shook my head. “I can’t accept.”

His jaw tightened, his mouth hardening into a firm line. “Yes, you will.”

“You don’t get to order me around. Just because you have money doesn’t mean you should be so frivolous with it.”

“Serena.” His commanding voice made me stop short. Taking my arm, he steered me away from the counter and whispered, “You don’t know a damn thing about me or my past to make any sort of judgement about what I should or shouldn’t do with my money.”

I blinked, surprised by his words. “That’s only because you haven’t wanted to share it with me.”

“I came from the streets,” he continued, his gaze dark and unrelenting. The shift in his tone froze me in place. “No money. No power. All I ever had were the clothes on my back. Now I have more money than I know what do with, and nobody to spend it on. So, if I want to buy something for you, I expect you to accept the gift without arguing.”

My eyes widened. The gravity in his voice had caught me offguard. I had never heard him talk about his life before finding wealth. He’d only allowed glimpses into that part of himself—and it was limited at best. Now, all I wanted was to know more.

“I’m sorry, Anton. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

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