Livy stumbled backward, her bare foot sliding against the polished floor.
A startled gasp escaped her.
Before she could fall, Antonio caught her around the waist and pulled her against him.
Livy’s cheeks burned.
Her towel barely reached mid-thigh, and she instinctively tightened her grip on it.
“Let me go.” Antonio didn’t move.
His eyes dropped, slowly, from her face to the wet strands of hair clinging to her neck.
His gaze lingered briefly on the knot she’d tied above her chest before moving to her bare shoulders, still damp from the shower.
“Let me go,” she repeated.
“What happens if I don’t?” he asked, calmly gazing into her eyes.
She shoved him back with both hands.
He didn’t even stumble.
He let her push against him as if she were a child trying to move a brick wall, then reached out and caught both of her wrists in one hand, pinning them together effortlessly.
“I like seeing you like this,” he murmured, his eyes dark.
“Totally helpless.” He watched her struggle for a second longer before letting go.
Then he turned towards the cupboard.
Livy watched as he opened it and took out a handgun.
Her eyes widened.
Is he going to kill me?
Is that what this is?
The thought hit her.
But Antonio simply checked the weapon and tucked it behind his back.
Then he walked out of the room as though nothing had happened.
Livy stood there for a moment after he left, still clutching the towel around herself.
Her hands shook from the sudden wave of fear.
She needed to get dressed before he came back.
She looked around the bedroom, searching for a wardrobe, but there wasn’t one in sight.
“Where are the clothes?” she muttered.
Remembering the digital panel, she walked back toward it and examined the symbols again.
There were several buttons she hadn’t tried yet.
Her eyes stopped on one with a shirt symbol.
She pressed it.
A soft click sounded from the wall, followed by the quiet movement of something unlocking.
Another door slid open.
Livy stared at it for a moment before slowly walking inside.
She stopped.
The room was enormous.
There were two large mirrors on each end.
Rows of Antonio’s clothes filled one side, with perfectly arranged suits, shirts, jackets, shoes, and other expensive pieces of clothing.
Everything was organized with the kind of precision she expected from a man like him.
But then she noticed the other side.
Her clothes.
The things she had chosen at the boutique were already there, neatly arranged in their own section.
There was even plenty of empty space beside them.
Livy walked closer.
Then she noticed the other items.
Underwear, lingerie, sleepwear, and several other things she hadn’t chosen.
Her brows drew together.
They were all her size.
She stared at them.
“At least he didn’t write my name on it,” she muttered.
She looked over the expensive clothes again, but she felt no excitement at seeing any of them.
She simply reached for the first warm outfit she could find.
She finished dressing and walked out into the sunlit kitchen.
A man she hadn’t seen before stood by the island, plating food with quiet efficiency.
“Hello ma’am,” he said, looking up with a warm, easy smile.
“Breakfast is ready.” Well, at least this one is nice, she thought, a welcome relief from Alex’s brooding intensity.
“Who are you?” she asked, pulling out a chair.
“My name is Marco.
I am here to help you with whatever you need.
I must say you look lovely this morning.” Livy had chosen a simple dress from the wardrobe, but she had to admit, the fabric draped well and fit her effortlessly.
She smiled at him and took a seat.
Her eyes widened at the staggering spread laid out before her.
In the center of the table was an impressive selection of caviar, smoked salmon, and fresh fruit.
Warm bread and croissants were arranged alongside crispy bacon and sausages.
Bowls of figs, berries, and exotic fruits added even more color to the table.
There was also fresh orange juice, along with tea and coffee.
Beside them sat a glass of sparkling wine with a strawberry floating inside.
“I think your boss wants me to gain weight,” she muttered, staring at the feast.
Marco chuckled, sliding a delicate porcelain plate filled with eggs and fruit toward her.
“I think he just wants to take good care of you, you know.” Livy muttered something unfriendly under her breath before picking up her fork.
“Join me, let’s eat.” Marco blinked, caught off guard as he wiped his hands on a clean dish towel.
“Oh, no, ma’am.
I’m just here to serve.” ”Well, you’re the only company I’ve got, and there’s enough food here to feed half the whole building.” She gestured toward the empty chair opposite her.
“Sit down, Marco.
Please.
Unless the boss has a rule against his men having breakfast with me?” “Not really, but…” “You said you’re here to help me with whatever I need.
I need you to sit down and help me to eat.” ”Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?” He reached for a croissant, tearing off a piece with a small shrug.
“Though if the boss walks back in and sees me eating his caviar, I’m telling him you ordered me to, as Mrs.
D’Angelo.” Livy gave a small, genuine smile, the first real one she’d managed since becoming the Don’s captive.
“Deal.”