The curtains blocking the massive arched windows of the room did their job too well, keeping the room trapped in a perpetual, suffocating twilight long after the sun had fully set over the sprawling estate.
Joanne was buried so deeply under the weight of physical trauma and the accumulated exhaustion of consecutive hospital night shifts that her consciousness felt anchored to the bottom of a dark ocean.
Her mind was a chaotic blur of echoing gunshots, the scent of antiseptic, and the lingering, phantom weight of a man’s heavy body pinning her down into white sheets.
A hand clamped onto her bare shoulder, shaking her with an impatient force that dragged her out of her stupor.
“Wake up,” a voice boomed through the quiet bedroom, vibrating right through her skull.
Joanne gasped, her eyelids fluttering open as her heart instantly spiked into a panicked rhythm.
Her vision blurred for a second before it focused on the towering, immense silhouette blocking out the dim light of the bedside lamp.
Alfonso stood over the bed, looking transformed from the feral, drug-addled predator from the night before.
He was impeccably, neatly dressed for a boardroom, wearing a crisp, bespoke charcoal suit that emphasized the massive breadth of his shoulders and the lethal discipline of his posture.
A dark tie was knotted perfectly at his throat, and the sterile gauze pad on his right ear had been replaced with a small, flesh-colored medical strip that barely distracted from the sharp, terrifying perfection of his jawline.
He didn’t look like a man who had spent the dawn hours preparing for a brutal turf war; he looked like an emperor ready to claim his territory.
Alfonso’s piercing, dilated eyes slowly traveled downward, his gaze locking onto her form with an unyielding intensity.
Joanne’s breath caught in her throat as she realized the plush duvet had completely slid off the mattress during her restless tossing and turning, leaving it crumpled in a heap on the floor.
She was left exposed to his raking stare, lying flat on her back on the sheets.
Alfonso tilted his head, a faint, dark glint of twisted amusement passing through his features as his jaw set.
“Do you fight for your life in your sleep, sweet doctor?” he asked smoothly, his voice laced with a dangerous, quiet authority.
“You’ve completely stripped the bed. Get up. It’s long past dawn, and it is about time you finally get familiar with my place.”
The sudden realization of her nakedness hit Joanne like a physical blow.
The nightgown she had been forced to pull from the wardrobe before passing out was made of an incredibly fine, translucent black silk—a piece designed strictly for seduction rather than comfort.
It had ridden up past her hips during the night, leaving her long, slender legs, her bruised inner thighs, and the delicate curve of her hips completely bare under his predatory eyes.
“I… I am sorry,” Joanne whispered hurriedly, her voice incredibly husky, soft, and entirely polite as the terror of provoking his volatile temper made her hands shake.
She began to struggle frantically against the sheets, her fingers fumbling with the hem of the short nightgown as she tried desperately to pull the fabric down over her exposed thighs, attempting to shield her naked self from his suffocating gaze.
She curled her knees upward, her face burning with a furious, deep blush of mortification as she tried to make herself as small as possible beneath his shadow. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
Alfonso simply stood there, his arms crossing over his broad chest as he watched her frantic, defensive movements with a cold, superior detachment.
“What exactly are you trying to hide from me now, Joanne?” he questioned flatly, his tone dropping into a low, mocking register.
“We’ve already established that there isn’t a single part of your body that hasn’t been thoroughly claimed by my hands. Your modesty is entirely useless to me.”
Joanne didn’t dare answer him.
She kept her lips pressed tightly together, forcing a polite, submissive nod as she carefully swung her aching legs over the edge of the high mattress.
Every single muscle in her lower abdomen and lower back throbbed with a dull, fierce ache—a brutal reminder of his elite stamina and the unyielding weight she had handled hours ago.
Clutching the thin fabric tightly against her front, she forced herself to stand up.
Her knees trembled, nearly buckling under her weight, but she fought through the pain, keeping her head bowed politely as she hurried past his massive frame toward the towering wardrobe on the opposite side of the room.
She swung the doors open, her eyes scanning the long rows of hangers in a desperate search for a decent, professional piece of clothing—a high-necked dress, a pair of trousers, or even another set of basic nursing scrubs that could provide her with some semblance of a protective barrier.
But as her shaking fingers flipped through the garments, her heart sank into a cold abyss of despair.
There was nothing decent inside.
Every single article of clothing hanging in the wardrobe was made of plain lace, plunging necklines, backless silks, and microscopic hems.
The entire selection was designed to display a woman’s body like merchandise for a collector.
Alfonso’s footsteps approached from behind, stopping just a foot away from her back.
The overwhelming warmth of his body heat radiated against her bare shoulders, making her skin prickle with goosebumps.
“What the hell are you looking for in there?” he demanded impatiently, his shadow completely cutting off the light from the wardrobe interior.
Joanne swallowed hard, turning her head slightly to look down at his polished leather shoes, ensuring her tone remained completely respectful and non-confrontational despite the panic clawing at her throat.
“I… I am just looking for something a bit more appropriate to wear downstairs, sir,” she murmured softly, her eyes wide and pleading.
“A set of clothes that covers me properly before I leave this room.”
“You don’t have to change a single thing, doctor. You look perfectly fine the way you are right now.”
“But… sir—”
“My family is already assembled in the main hall downstairs,” Alfonso cut her off fiercely, his voice leaving absolutely zero room for negotiation.
“They’ve been waiting for hours to finally meet my new personal physician. They will not wait a single minute longer just so you can play dress-up.”
Joanne’s breath hitched, a fresh wave of shyness washing over her as she gripped the edge of the wardrobe door for support.
She turned around slowly to face him, her eyes fixed on his dark tie as she spoke in her most polite, softest whisper.
“Please, Sir… I can’t possibly get out there in front of your men in this nightdress. It is entirely see-through. I am practically naked.”
Before the final word could fully leave her trembling lips, Alfonso’s hand shot out with terrifying, lightning-fast speed.
His fingers locked around her slender waist with bone-crushing force, and with one powerful, authoritative yank, he dragged her entire body forward until her soft front crashed flat against the rigid wall of his suit jacket.
Joanne let out a choked gasp, her hands instinctively rising to press against his broad chest to keep herself from falling.
Alfonso leaned down, his face dropping inches from hers, his dark eyes burning with an intense, suffocating dominance as his gaze deliberately raked downward.
In this extreme proximity, the thin silk of the nightgown offered absolutely no protection.
The plunging cleavage of the dress displayed the soft curves of her full breasts perfectly, and the cool air of the room combined with her intense terror had made her nipples harden, pushing visibly through the translucent fabric like two tight stones.
His eyes lingered there for a long, agonizing moment before tracking down to the completely exposed, smooth skin of her thighs straining against his trousers.
“Wasn’t your clever little mind listening to a single word Griffin told you in the lobby last night, sweet doctor?” Alfonso whispered darkly, his voice dropping into a dangerous purr that vibrated against her lips.
“I believe he made it perfectly clear to you that I like my women showing a significant amount of skin around my palace.”
Joanne’s heart hammered so hard against her ribs it felt like it would crack her bones.
She looked into his icy eyes, her upper lip trembling with fear, yet she forced herself to keep her voice polite and desperate as she pleaded with him.
“It… it is not just some skin, sir. Please understand. The fabric is completely translucent. I am entirely naked beneath it.”
Alfonso’s lips twisted into a sinister smile, his hand sliding down her waist to firmly cup the sensitive skin of her hip, his final words delivering a terrifying, absolute promise that left her soul completely trapped in hell:
“I assure you, Joanne, I wouldn’t mind in the slightest if you walked around my entire empire completely naked.”