Cruel Mercy (Dark Mafia)

The thought of her leaving my protection was distasteful in the extreme. I wanted her to stay. Permanently.

“Fine, but only a half an hour. I’ll have the maid lay something out for you.”

“Sarah,” she said as one of the guards opened the door for her.

“What?”

“The maid,” she tossed over her shoulder. “Her name is Sarah.”

I followed her into the house, my eyes on her back as she hurried up the stairs.

Chapter Eighteen

Theresa

I stared at the bed, where my clothing for the night had been thoughtfully prepared. Everything was ready for me, down to the lingerie. A purse, shoes, and tights, since the dress was on the shorter side and it was getting a little chilly out in the evenings. I didn’t need a jacket yet, but there was a triangle shaped shawl with the other items, all in complimentary colors. I could not have put an elegant outfit like that together if I tried. Or maybe I could. But, despite growing up in stylish Italy, I had never been much of a clothes horse.

There was even a pretty little bag of makeup waiting.

Another thing I hadn’t asked for.

Another thing I wondered if was given out of thoughtfulness, or out of control. Or, even worse, out of embarrassment.

Was I so un put together that my guardian felt the need to manage me this thoroughly? He seems to get pleasure out of I, I mused to myself uneasily. But what I didn’t understand was why.

There was a flat jewelry box as well, I noticed as I pulled up the shawl to uncover a mysterious lump. I opened it and gasped. A pair of small gold hoops , each with a diamond drop, sat in the center. There was a delicate gold chain with a matching diamond solitaire, as well as a gold link bracelet with a heart shaped charm, also holding a single diamond.

I could tell the gold and diamonds were real, simply by looking at them.

The jewelry was simple, tasteful, and youthful. But also more expensive than the average student could afford. Way, way more expensive.

It was the nicest gift I had ever received. It also made me think of another gift a man would give a woman. It made me want that other gift.

It made me want a ring.

Twenty minutes later and I was dressed, ten minutes ahead of time. I was carefully applying a tiny bit of the makeup when there was a knock at the door.

“Yes?” I asked, securing the gold hoops to my ears.

“It’s Michael.”

I stopped and glanced at the clock. I knew he was a stickler for time, but I hadn’t been expecting him. I had planned to be downstairs at exactly eight, just to avoid the need for critique me again.

I wasn’t doing it to please him. I hadn’t dressed carefully or styled my hair a bit more lately just to please him. I wasn’t thinking of him when I tried to focus on my studies, or want to impress him with my grades when I was completing an assignment.

Liar, a little voice inside me said. You are a liar.

“Are you ready?” He asked, still behind the door.

“Nearly,” I said. I opened the door and looked at him, trying to ignore the butterflies that were doing loop d’loops in my stomach at the sight of him. He wore a dark grey suit with a white shirt and blue silk tie. He looked impeccable as always. I felt like a female peacock, drab and dull next to him.

“You aren’t wearing the jewelry,” he said, dashing any hope I had that he would say I looked nice in the clothing he had picked out. The thing was, I did look nice. I knew it, even though it made me feel strange inside. I looked nice because of him. He had chosen colors and styles that suited me well.

“I just put the earrings in…” I said, looking over my shoulder to the bed where the jewelry box lay open.

“Let me help you,” he said, stepping into the room. The walls seemed closer all the sudden. The lights brighter. The room just felt… smaller.

He picked up the bracelet first and turned, waiting for me. I crossed the room, trying not to think about the fact that we were standing right next to the bed. I swallowed and held out my wrist. His strong, elegant fingers were nimble as he fastened the clasp. But he didn’t release me. His fingertips glided over the sensitive skin of my wrist. I held my breath and looked up at him. He was standing so close.

But he was looking at my arm, not at my face. He didn’t see the longing I knew was on full display. Meanwhile he was touching me reverently, looking at me as if he’d never seen skin before. I exhaled and closed my eyes. Then I tugged my arm away.