Chapter 3 - The Unspoken Shift
When Tessa finally woke up, the first thing she noticed was the blinding morning light streaming through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of the study.
The second thing she noticed was the solid, muscular wall of heat beneath her cheek.
Her eyes snapped open in absolute, unadulterated horror.
She was still in the study.
She was still lying directly across Victor Romano’s chest.
And it was clearly past seven o'clock in the morning.
Tessa gasped softly, her entire body rigid with sudden terror.
She looked up slowly, expecting to see the terrifying face of the Don staring down at her with lethal intent.
The sofa was empty beneath her left arm.
Victor was not there.
Tessa scrambled backward off the sofa so fast her knees slammed hard against the wooden edge of the coffee table. She ignored the sharp pain, falling onto her hands and knees on the Persian carpet, looking frantically around the room like a trapped animal.
Victor Romano was standing near the large mahogany desk across the room.
He had changed into a clean, crisp white dress shirt, though the left sleeve hung loosely over his freshly bandaged shoulder.
He was holding a steaming white ceramic mug of black coffee in his right hand.
His dark eyes were fixed squarely on her face.
His expression was entirely unreadable—a cold, stone mask that revealed nothing of his thoughts.
Tessa felt all the air leave her lungs.
She pressed her forehead directly against the rug, her hands shaking violently against the floor.
“Mr. Romano... I am so sorry,” she stammered, her voice trembling so badly it was barely coherent. “I... I came in to clean the crystal... you were having a nightmare... you moved toward the edge... I tried to hold you back... you grabbed my wrist... I didn't mean to fall asleep... Please, Mr. Romano... please don't hurt my brother...”
Silence filled the massive study.
It stretched for ten agonizing seconds.
Tessa waited for his harsh voice, for the sound of his heavy footsteps approaching, for him to call the guards to drag her away.
Instead, she heard the soft clink of a ceramic mug being set down on a wooden desk.
“Get up,” Victor said.
His voice was calm, deep, and remarkably quiet.
Tessa scrambled to her feet instantly, keeping her head bowed low, her hands folded tightly in front of her gray uniform apron.
Victor walked slowly across the room toward her.
Even with a serious shoulder wound, his physical presence was overwhelming, filling the space with an aura of absolute dominance.
He stopped two feet in front of her.
Tessa stared at his dark leather shoes, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
“Look at me,” Victor commanded softly.
Tessa swallowed hard and forced her chin up.
His dark brown eyes locked onto hers with intense, terrifying focus. He searched her face, taking in the dark circles under her eyes, her chapped lips, and her trembling shoulders.
“How long was your shift yesterday?” he asked.
Tessa blinked, caught completely off guard by the unexpected question. “I... I started at nine yesterday morning, sir.”
“That makes twenty-one hours,” Victor stated flatly.
He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a heavy leather wallet, and extracted a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills without even counting them.
He held the money out to her.
Tessa stared at the cash in utter confusion. “Sir?”
“Take it,” Victor said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“I... I can't take your money, Mr. Romano,” Tessa whispered, backing up half a step. “I'm here to pay off Liam's debt—”
“Your brother’s debt is forty thousand dollars,” Victor interrupted coldly, stepping forward to close the distance between them. “His debt buys your labor for twelve hours a day. It does not buy twenty-one hours. I do not run a slave camp, Miss Moore. Take the money.”
Tessa extended a trembling hand and took the thick stack of bills. The paper felt crisp and heavy against her palm.
“Go to your quarters,” Victor ordered, turning his back on her as he walked back toward his desk. “Sleep until two in the afternoon. If Paulie or anyone else asks why you were in my study, tell them I had you organizing my private files.”
Tessa stood frozen for a second, unable to process what had just occurred.
“Thank you, Mr. Romano,” she murmured softly.
Victor picked up his coffee mug, taking a slow sip without looking back at her.
May you like
“Go, Tessa.”
She turned and slipped out the heavy mahogany doors, her heart pounding in her chest as she carried the stack of money down the silent corridor.
