Zadie’s POV
The second he turned around, I swear my soul tried to crawl out of my body. It was him. Lazaro Saventino is the man I fucked.
Jet-black hair, eyes like storm clouds, jaw cut from stone, and a face that could’ve been on a wanted poster or a fucking magazine cover. Broad chest, strong hands, that same cold confidence I felt when he had me pinned to the backseat of his car.
And now? He was sitting behind a CEO desk. Wearing the same face that had just destroyed my entire nervous system forty-eight hours ago. And the bastard didn’t even flinch.
“You’re late,” he said, like we didn’t just sin our way through a hotel room.
I sat down, heart thumping in my throat. “Traffic.”
His stare was dry, unamused. “So was your excuse.” Wow. Okay. Punch me in the face then.
I kept my smile tight. “It won’t happen again.”
Lazaro leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “You’re here for the executive assistant role.”
I nodded. “Marina Velastro.”
Fake name and fake past. He looked me over, not like he was checking me out, more like he was trying to figure me out. Like he’d seen me before but couldn’t place it. Good. Let him squint. Let him doubt. Because the second he realized who I really was, this whole place was going to explode.
“You seem underqualified,” he said.
“Looks are deceiving,” I shot back. He tilted his head slightly, like I’d surprised him.
Then his voice dropped, smooth and sharp. “Are you always this mouthy during interviews?”
I leaned in. “Are you always this condescending to women you’ve already slept with?”
His expression didn’t change. But his eye twitched. Just a little. So he did remember. I f*cking knew it. But instead of acknowledging it, he turned to a folder on his desk, probably my fake résumé, and flipped it open like we weren’t in the middle of a silent war.
“You’ve jumped around,” he said.
“Corporate life is boring,” I replied. “I like being busy.”
His gaze flicked back to mine. “You’ll be busy here.”
“Good.” He paused, fingers tapping the folder. I hated how calm and in control he looked. Like I wasn’t unraveling in front of him.
He looked me over one more time and said, “You start Monday.” I blinked. That’s it?
“You’re hiring me?” I asked, trying not to sound shocked.
He gave me a half-smile. A provocative one. “Unless you’d prefer I call the front desk and have security escort you out?” God, I hated his face. And the fact that I’d ridden it.
I stood slowly, grabbing my bag. “See you Monday, sir.” I said the last word like it was poison in my mouth. He didn’t flinch. Just watched me walk out like he already knew I was going to be a problem. I made it to the elevator before I let myself breathe. Then I almost screamed.
He was Lazaro fucking Saventino, the name on our files. The ghost the Bureau couldn’t touch. Clean on paper, lethal in reality. Accused of everything from weapons trafficking to offshore laundering to ordering people to disappear.
And I? I let him raw-dog me on the first night like I was auditioning for the damn mafia wife Olympics. I leaned against the elevator wall, fingers digging into my temples. What the hell was wrong with me?
I hadn’t even looked at another man in years. Too focused, and guarded. Then one night of whiskey, pain, and loneliness, and I let my guard drop for one man? And it had to be him?
I let him inside me. He made me beg. Made me scream. Made me feel something I had no business feeling. And now he was my fucking boss. I laughed under my breath. A bitter, cracked sound. This mission was already off the rails.