Page 28 of Crazed

"Sir, that's a fire lane," the valet frets, his voice cracking.

Massimo stands taller and puts his hand on the young man's shoulder. "So what? That's why I have you. Two hundred big ones are coming your way if you keep it safe. However, if anything happens, I'll find out where you live."

Red burns the valet's cheeks. Fear flies into his face. He stammers, "I-I-I can get fired for letting you park here."

"Letting me? No one lets me do anything. I make my own choices," Massimo declares, shoves the keys in his hands, and guides me past him.

"Sir," the man shouts.

Massimo doesn't turn. He leads me inside the building.

I turn to him, asking, "Was that necessary?"

"What?" he asks, as if he has no clue why I'm asking him about it.

"To scare that poor kid."

More arrogance washes over him. In a firm tone, he asserts, "You ever try to find parking in Manhattan? Besides, he's going to get two hundred bucks." He nods to the security guard and moves us in front of the elevator, removing his sunglasses and putting them in his pocket.

"So that makes it okay? What if there's a fire?" I ask.

The elevator opens, and Massimo motions for me to go first. I step in, he follows, and the doors shut. He hits a code for the penthouse. He steps in front of me until I'm against the wall and puts both hands on my cheeks. "There are two types of people in this world, dolce. Those who take what they need and those who wait for scraps. Guess which one I am."

I say nothing.

A moment of silence passes, and he chuckles. "Don't tell me you'd have looked at me twice if I were someone who waited for scraps."

I bite my lip, not able to deny that the power Massimo displays is a huge turn on for me.

The elevator dings, and Massimo's cockiness grows. "Thought so." He kisses my forehead and grabs my hand, leading me into the corridor before I can respond. He knocks on a door and slides his arm around my shoulder, tugging me close to his muscular frame.

I lean into him, unable to stop my body from molding to his.

He says into my ear, "I'm punishing you when we get home."

Zings bounce through my body. "Oh? Why is that?"

He murmurs, "I need to show you what I'll do to you when I have you at my full disposal for a week."

I take a deep inhale.

"Sun. Sand. Drinks. You submitting to me with no interruptions."

"I didn't agree to go," I say, but it comes out weak.

He sniffs my hair. "There's one other thing you should know, dolce."

"What's that?"

"I always get my way."

The door opens, and a gray-haired, older man stands in front of us. Wrinkles cover the corners of his eyes, and smile lines indent his cheeks. His deep voice reminds me of a cigar smoker. He reaches his arms around Massimo, patting him on the back. "Massimo. Good to see you. And who's this beautiful woman?"

Massimo's face lights up. He puffs his chest out, circling his arm around my waist. "This is Katiya. Katiya, meet Ettore, the best jeweler in New York."

"Ah," Ettore states, waving his hand in front of his face, then kissing me on the cheek. "It's nice to meet you."

"You, too," I reply.

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