”Check your balance, Rosie.
The payment for the night has been processed.” He let out a low, mocking hum.
“Since I’ve paid your premium rate, I expect you to stop the theatrics and start doing what you’re paid for.”
He leaned down, and she pressed her back against the door, trying to put space between them.
But when he was that close, she simply turned her face away.
Her frown deepened.
She was in no mood to take his orders.
“I’ll return the money to your account.
Just let me go,” she said, her voice sharp.
He studied her for a brief moment, his hands braced on either side of her—one against the seatback, the other against the door.
“I get it,” he said calmly, his warm breath brushing her ear.
“You’re upset about what happened at the store today.”
She scoffed and shook her head subtly.
Her ex-husband was so full of himself—always assuming he knew everything.
“Look, I helped you.
I paid for the jewellery you stole.
So why are you upset with me?” His tone was edged with irritation.
She turned her head to stare at him, annoyance flashing in her eyes.
“Do you really think I stole it?”
He didn’t answer.
Rosa’s fury finally snapped.
“I didn’t steal anything.
It was your precious fiancée who falsely accused me.”
Luciano narrowed his eyes slightly, studying her closely.
“Then you’re angry because I rejected your fund application?”
She huffed and turned her face away again, refusing to look at him.
But his gaze lingered on her, thoughtful and cold.
“If you’re that desperate for funds,” he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion, “I can provide them.
Stay with me for one month—be mine and only mine—and you can take as much as you want.”
Her head snapped back, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Aren’t you getting married next month, Mr.
Mancini?” she shot back, sarcasm dripping from every word.
She pressed a hand against his chest, trying to push him back so she could sit upright.
Right now, they were both in a reclined position—Rosa against the door, Luciano hovering over her, their mouths just a breath apart.
The closeness made Rosa uneasy, stirring sensations she didn’t want to feel.
Not from him.
But he didn’t move.
Instead, he pressed even closer and caught her wrist, pinning her hand to the seatback, his grip tight and possessive.
“You’re getting money for your time,” he said coldly.
“Don’t overthink it.”
”I don’t need your money.
Just let me go,” she said stiffly, struggling to free her hand.
He didn’t loosen his hold.
His indifferent expression never changed as he watched her resistance.
“That’s not a wise thing to say,” he murmured, his voice dangerously smooth as he brushed his nose against hers.
Rosa swallowed hard, forcing herself not to close her eyes.
Her breathing quickened, chest heaving against his tightly pressed torso, making it hard to even draw a full breath.
Her nipples were hard, sensitive, rubbing insistently against her fabric as they pressed into his chest.
She fought desperately not to shiver in his proximity, though every nerve in her body screamed otherwise.
“I… I just want to go home,” she whispered, her voice thin and brittle, the fire of her anger replaced by crushing exhaustion.
Luciano didn’t respond at once.
He didn’t move away either.
The car kept rolling.
“Why did you leave that morning without my permission?” The complaint in his voice was unmistakable.
She wasn’t sure if her nervousness came from his closeness or from the lie she was about to tell.
Looking into his eyes made her pulse stutter.
“I told you,” she said carefully.
“I only work nights.
So, I left in the morning.”
”That’s not an answer.” His jaw tightened.
“You should have told me before leaving.
What was the hurry?”
”Does it matter?” she shot back.
He stared at her for a long moment, then exhaled slowly.
“Yes, it matters.
Because you’re mine for a month.”
Her breath caught.
“But you said two weeks earlier,” she blurted out, panic slipping into her voice.
A cold smirk curved his lips.
She immediately realised her mistake.
She pressed her lips together, then said firmly, “Not for two weeks.
Not for a month.
I’m not available.”
He leaned closer, dragging his nose slowly along her cheek, making her eyelids flutter halfway shut and her breathing hitch.
“It wasn’t an offer, baby,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper.
His blue eyes hardened, turning icy and predatory.
“You’re going to spend every night in my bed for a month.”
”You… you can’t force me,” she said, though her throat tightened under his gaze.
“I haven’t even started.”
The threat in his tone made her spine go rigid.
Rosa didn’t answer.
She only stared at him, her thoughts racing, wondering what kind of trap she had walked into—and how she was supposed to survive it.
The silence between them stretched, endless and hypnotic.
Finally, it broke as the vehicle slowed and hissed to a stop.