Page 67 of Beautiful Desire

I watch as his brows furrow and his nostrils flare while he sits forward, gripping the arms of the chair.

“Cosa vuoi dire, che non c'è più?” he snarls at me.What do you mean, it's gone?

“Non sei l'unico con amici di alto rango,” I tell him smugly.You're not the only one with friends in high places.

“Questa non é l’ultima volta che sentirai parlare di me.”This isn’t the last you’ll be hearing from me.

And with that, he stands up, almost knocking the chair over as he storms out of my office.

No sooner has he left the office than the phone on my desk rings, not allowing me the chance to relish the fact that he’s gone. That I’mfree. I pick up without bothering to look at who’s calling and hear the sound of Elle’s voice through the phone.

“Your next client is in the conference room,” is all she says before quickly hanging up.

I can tell by her tone she’s still pissed. Looking down at my desk, I see the note she barged into my office with, and I realize it’s the card from the bouquet of lilies I had delivered earlier.

I felt like an ass yesterday after making her feel the way she did. She couldn’t wait to get out of here and away from me. The thought of her hating the idea of being near me sends a kick to my stomach.

She’ll never be yours,the tiny voice in the back of my head whispers.

But I can’t stand the thought of her being someone else’s. Especially that fuckerPaul’s.

I stand from my chair, shaking my head and those thoughts away. Exiting my office, I walk past Elle and smile at her, even though she never lifts her head to see it. I carry on and make my way into the conference room to begin my back-to-back meetings.

* * *

Elle

Once I stormed out of Dom’s office, I couldn’t concentrate because I was filled with so much anger, which is how I’ve spent the rest of the afternoon. I’m beyond pissed that this jackass thinks he can just send me a bunch of flowers and everything will be okay. The fact that he sent me a bouquet ofliliesdoesn’t help matters, because I’m a ball of nervous energy.

And that goddamn note. What was I thinking, giving it back to him? The only word I remembered wasprego,and all I got when I looked up the translation was “please.”

Please what? Please fuck me? Please suck my dick? Please….

The sound of an incoming email pinging on my screen pulls me from my thoughts. An email from the person at the forefront of every single thought I’ve had in the last twelve hours, at least.

Thankfully, Dom has been stuck in the conference room again all afternoon with around-the-clock meetings. He asked me to bring a file that he’s left in his office. I make my way in and start looking through the pile, and a small rectangular piece of paper on his desk catches my attention. My eyes almost bulge when I realize it’s the card he sent with the bouquet of flowers. I pick it up and slip it into my bra to keep it safe until I get back to my desk.

Picking up the folder, I quickly exit his office with a little more spring in my step now that I have the note back. Briskly walking down the hallway, I knock on the conference room door. I feel every set of eyes in the room fall on me as I slip in, give Dom the folder, and quickly exit.

I try my best not to run back to my desk, but the last few steps are more of a quick jog than a brisk walk. I pop myself back in my chair, load the translator app, and type in the words on the card.

Mi dispiace.

Ti prego perdonami, fiore.

-D

The translation comes up, and I swear the entire building can hear me gasp when I read over the words on the screen in my head.

I’m sorry.

Please forgive me, flower.

-D

I don’t know how long I sit staring at the screen, but I know it’s longer than I’d probably care to admit. Not only did he sign it D, but he also used the nickname he gave me. The one that holds a special place in my heart.

I need to call Gia. Lifting my bag, I rummage through it, trying to dig out my cellphone.

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