[ S E R A P H I N E ]
"You good?" Dominico squints at me, then tosses back the whiskey in his second glass."Sì, Signore." [Yes, Sir.]The guy stares at me with furrowed brows. "Don't call me that."My heart drops at his emotionless voice. My shoulders tense up, and my cheeks feel like they're burning. "Pardon?""I'm not your boss."My gut clenches. Embarrassment heats up my throat and the back of my eyes. "Right." I try not to scowl as I put away the cleaning supplies.What the heck is this asshole's problem?Is it me? Because I didn't even try to look like I belong here? Is he disgusted by this outfit? Because I look too tacky for his refined tastes?According to some pictures online, he dated a 20-something Spanish model slash actress. Therefore he probably likes women with immaculate fashion taste.The jerk finally gets up from the stool and swigs the rest of his drink. As I keep my mouth shut, Dominico plops the empty glass back on the bar. "And I'm pretty sure you know my name."•••The dimly lit space around us remains still and silent as I stare at him, trying my best not to make a face or react to what he just said.Is he being serious? Who here doesn't know him and his family?The Tomassinis are one of the wealthiest clans in this country. Although it's his older brother and second wife who are frequently mentioned in business articles and finance news the past decade, lately Ignazio himself is also getting some attention and praise from his peers.Can't say the same for his son, though. I'm not sure why this conceited jerk believes I know his name.Who told him? Does he know about my secret? That I've been crushing on him since the first time our paths crossed?We've never been formally introduced. I've seen him at the country club a few times, but that's it. We've never actually spoken to each other until now.The humid air and my numbing feet are urging me to walk out when Dominico stares at me again. I want to get off this boat and forget this conversation ever happened, but the rest of my body feels frozen.Darn it. I can't stop looking at his face, either. "Anything else I can get you?""I'm good." Dominico looks away and scowls at his phone again.Shock replaces the embarrassment washing over me when he takes out a large bill from his wallet. A tip?"Thanks for the drink.""Sure." Giving him my best fake smile, I ignore the money he just about tossed beside the napkin I gave him. I eye the dim exit. "Have a great rest of the night."When I step away from the bar without touching his money, Dominico smirks at me and finally steps backwards. "I sure hope so."•••"I know, Dad. Just...don't bother the Tomassinis again." I muffle a noisy sigh with my palm while my phone warms up the side of my face. "Talk to Mom. Please. Make her understand.""Bakit, 'nak?" [Why, honey?]"Dad, you know why." I shake my head and close my eyes. This dizziness won't go away, and it's not because I'm still on a boat. Or the fact that I just endured a disappointing, emotionally scarring one-on-one with the man of my dreams.But not anymore. No thanks. I've changed my mind. I'm not marrying that guy...especially after he's made it painfully clear that I'm not his type."Something wrong, honey?" my father mutters, his tone worried."We can't afford to owe these people any more money." And frankly, I don't wanna keep working front desk at the country club for another five years. I have goals. Dreams. I won't survive in this economy on minimum wage throughout my 20s."I know, Sephie," my dad murmurs on the other end. Then he sighs as if something convinced him I'm not as calm as I'm trying to sound. "Listen. Stop worrying about us. Okay lang kami ni Mama mo. Kaya pa namin." [Your mom and I are okay. We're still managing.]"Dad, I'm just saying..." I stifle a sigh. "We have other options.""Yeah. I know.""We can't owe them our whole lives." I palm my face and glance around. Coast clear, still. I'm hiding behind the bar, sitting alone on the hardwood floor, my butt almost numb. Thankfully most of the party guests prefer the poolside ambiance."I know, honey." My dad sighs loudly. "I talked to Ignazio yesterday, by the way.""What? Why?" Mr. Tomassini talked to him on the phone? Maybe to remind my dad of how much we still owe their local bank. I'll have to sell my kidneys and then my liver just to pay off the principal's interest."He called me after I, uh, left the clinic. At first, I thought he was just checking on the renovations at the clinic, and, y'know, about the loans," my dad mumbles in his usually hoarse voice. "Then he starts asking about you.""Me?""He asked if you're planning to go back to school soon.""Sure. But, not right now." I scowl and squint at the yellowish lights. "We can't afford it yet." I don't enjoy talking to my parents about their growing debts and financial choices. But for their sake and mine, I sometimes remind them of my reality in this city.My father won't pressure me into sticking it out until I earn enough to get rid of their debts and pay for my own tuition. But he'll be relieved to hear that I'm willingly pushing aside my academic goals for the time being. Just so I can help them sort out their money problems.If the Tomassinis will reward my job performance this year, they might give me a hefty raise, and then my first promotion.Fingers crossed.•••Exhausted and enjoying the quiet early morning breeze, I organize the liquor bottles stacked behind the bar. I like the privacy I have for now, almost as much as I prefer my own company.Dominico won't show up again. Not at this hour. It's a relief that he left me alone before I completely lost my cool.Unbelievable... We just had our first ever conversation. On his family's brand new yacht, at that. I'm bummed that our first real interaction didn't end the way I imagined it would.Then again who am I kidding? Dominico probably thinks I'm just another desperate bimbo on his father's payroll, and I have a feeling Ignazio sees me the same way...not that he ever used his position and influence to make me do something dirty or illegal.So far the man's only been helpful and nice to me ever since he gave me my first real job. Some people think Ignazio likes me way more than the other girls, mostly because the man has quite a reputation and I'm one of the youngest among the staff.But maybe I'm just biased? Mr. Tomassini knows I don't do that kind of work.Unless...Unless he's also one of my subscribers? Has he seen my racy photos online? Is he "Angelx30"?Yuck! That can't happen. I can't even stomach the idea of him paying to look at my half-naked photos and..."No frickin' way." I shake off the thought and massage the back of my head. A dull ache persists near my left ear. But thankfully the nausea's almost gone. I step away from the varnished shelf and check my phone."Angelx30" is offline again. Maybe the guy's asleep.Fine. I'm waiting for nothing. I need to up my sexting game. I roll my eyes and massage my nape. The pool table still looks messy, but I no longer have the energy to clean it up and the whole deck. My muscles are hurting.It's almost dawn. There's no other staff around. The two security guards must've left while I was on the phone with my dad.The other girls who came here to work (like I did) are nowhere to be seen. They're probably in the private cabins, doing their escort duties. I hope Mr. Tomassini and his guests are paying them enough.I grab my handbag and turn the lights off. Thank God I don't have to go that far just to feed myself.•••The humidity clings to my skin like a wet cloth. Each step feels heavier as I walk past the dim pool table. Bringing a trench coat to this weekend party isn't doing me any favors.The staff's cabin should be right below this rug, promising at least four hours of sleep if I'm lucky. After a long day of work, I should be asleep in no time.Just as I'm about to reach the exit, muffled voices echo from somewhere. They're not too far, and they sound familiar. Two guys?One's shouting and swearing in Italian. The other one's too muted for me to decipher what he's saying.Wait. The older man's voice sounds like Ignazio's. I just don't know where exactly the noises are coming from.The upper decks are still pulsing with club music and distant chatter, drowning out the ruckus I'm investigating. The bass-boosted beats are only worsening this stupid headache.I take a few more steps to the right until I reach a dim, narrow hall leading to one of the private cabins. This side of the yacht seems quieter, and the splashes of the waves almost sound too distant from here.I stop in my tracks when the voices get louder. My gut tightens at the sound of Ignazio swearing. Who is he yelling at? I press my cheek against the wall, his incensed tone rather foreign to my ears.Undeniable rage spills out into his words. Then a grunt and thud interrupt the conversation.My stomach churns. I'm not the most fluent in Italian, but I'm quite sure he just said he's gonna kill some guy named "Ottavio" if he actually lost "the cargo".What cargo? Who's Ottavio? And who the heck's driving my employer hopping mad at this ungodly hour?Shit. My common sense is telling me to run for the exit and pretend I didn't hear anything. But sheer curiosity is pinning my feet on this rug.What exactly are they fighting about? Why does my boss badly want to hurt some guy for some lost cargo?My heartbeat doubles its pace. I keep my mouth shut. I slouch beside the closed door, dissecting the conversation as quietly as I can.I move cautiously to the other side of the door. I can just act like I'm on my way to the upper decks if Ignazio or the other person steps out any moment."Leandro will sort out the terms with Falco's son." It's Ignazio talking again, his voice somewhat calmer. "It needs to be done before that shipment gets here.""From Colombia? When?" the other guy asks with a sigh. He sounds a bit younger than Ignazio."Giovedì." [Thursday.]"Why does it have to be Leandro? Just leave him out of it, Pappa. He and Enzo don't need to get involved."Shit. What the heck? That's definitely Dominico's voice. I grip the straps of my bag.Is he alone in the room with his dad? Why are they arguing about his cousins?I don't know Leandro or Enzo Tomassini personally, but I have seen them on the golf course a few times. I stay put and hold my breath, the tension palpable in the ominous silence."Stronzo!" [Moron!] Ignazio begins ranting in Italian about Dominico's stubbornness.My breath catches when Dominico's comebacks only fuel Ignazio's temper. I cover my mouth when Ignazio resumes spewing profanities at his son.Then comes a muted noise of something hitting something. It almost echoes. Another thud follows.Every part of me turns into a stiff rod when the door flies open. The edge almost hits my forehead. I turn and almost run for the stairs, but then I see him.The light in the cabin gives me a good view of Dominico's bloody profile. He's wearing the same clothes, and it's definitely his blood running down his pointed nose and pouting mouth. "Cazzo." [Fuck.] He swipes at the red stains with his fingers, then wrinkles his brows and forehead when he notices me.The shock turns into fear and regret as I try not to gawk at him. Concern eventually pulls me out of the daze. I step closer to him with weak knees. I hand him my handkerchief. "You okay?"The frown etching fine lines on his tan face doesn't leave. "What're you doing here?" Dominico squints at me and only glances at my handkerchief.I feel like a dumbass. "I... Nothing. I-I was just...""Just what?"Before I can attempt to properly explain my unwanted presence, a seemingly inebriated Ignazio steps out of the cabin with his phone. The man regards me with a look of surprise, most likely unaware of my encounter with his son half an hour ago. "Seraphine, che fai?" [What are you doing?]"V-Vado a dormire, Signore." [I'm going to bed, Sir.] I try to smile as naturally as possible.The confusion on Ignazio's face morphs into a faint smirk after he checks out my outfit. "Can you spare me a few minutes?""Why, Sir?""Step inside, dear. We need to talk." Ignazio opens the door wider. The stench of alcohol and cigarettes on his breath mixes with the musky scent of his perfume, making me dizzy again.Still wiping blood off his nose, Dominico glares at his father and stands too close to me.I want to faint. My legs feel like overcooked pasta. Ignazio wants me inside the cabin alone with him? At this hour? "About what, Sir?""I phoned your father. We had a brief chat about you yesterday.""Y-Yeah. He mentioned." My voice cracks when Ignazio steps forward, too close, just as his warm hand touches my bare skin. The side of my arm. My back. Then my hip. I flinch when his thick beard touches the tip of my nose while his other hand strokes the side of my thigh.Restrained panic begins to suffocate me, but I don't move or say another word. I can't. The wall's right behind me and my mouth feels paralyzed. My legs won't budge.Before I can snap out of it, Dominico grabs my wrist and pulls me to him, seizing me away from his father's clutches. "No, Pappa. Lei viene con me." [She's coming with me.]Hold on. What? I'm coming with him? To where?Dominico's firm grip on my wrist yanks me out of my thoughts. I almost trip when he tugs at my forearm and brings me to the stairs leading to the upper deck, ignoring his father's glare.We go up the narrow stairs without another word. Like Dominico's steps, the tense silence whispers urgency as we leave Ignazio behind. My vision's almost spinning.I feel Dominico's grip on my hand and nothing else. My heart's racing, and I'm trying not to look too shocked beside him while he leads me past the pool.The party's almost over. Most of the guests are probably in the cabins. Yet the music remains quite loud, the fun and vibrant facade around us masking the dark undercurrents beneath.Once we reach the top deck, a silent apology lingers in Dominico's eyes, and he's no longer touching me. Then he lets out a sigh. For a moment he just stares at the dark waters surrounding us.This yacht won't dock until sunrise, and I don't do anything except stand next to him with my arms folded over my chest. My skin feels slick with sweat, but my hands and feet are cold. A bit numb.My chest aches a bit, and my breathing remains unsteady. There's no one else on this deck, but I feel much safer here.What do I do now? Should I thank him? Apologize for eavesdropping? Give him a quick hug?Maybe he thinks he had to rescue me. Well, he did, in a way. If Dominico didn't intervene, I wouldn't have been able to say no to his father.I couldn't. Everyone knows that man doesn't take no for an answer. I just don't know exactly why Ignazio thought I wouldn't say no to him.Just because my family owes him money?•[ S E R A P H I N E ]About 15 minutes later, I'm inside the cabin where Dominico told me I should "hide" if I want to avoid his father for the next couple of hours. I'm double-checking Dominico's injuries, making sure his nose isn't broken. I don't really need to ask whether it was his father's doing. My gut tells me I already know the answer. It's the WHY that's still bugging my sleep-deprived brain. Only, it's obvious what happened between him and his father is the last thing my companion wants to chat about.So far I'm 90% sure Dominico will live and won't need emergency rhinoplasty. The bleeding already stopped, and his septum doesn't look deviated, but the bridge of his nose does look swollen. My dad has taught me more than basic first aid over the years, and Dominico seems to believe me.We're still alone, still in the same clothes, exchanging awkward glances while I sit next to him on the left side of the bed. It's not too small for two people, but rather uncomfortable if he
[ S E R A P H I N E ] When I step out of the bathroom in an old cotton shirt and clean leggings, the curtains are lightly swaying in the early morning breeze. They cast dappled shadows across the bed sheets. Okay. Dominico bothered to cover up the windows. Maybe he can't sleep in a room that isn't pitch-dark.I take a deep breath. I feel a bit lighter, relaxed, and not that dizzy anymore. The lights have been turned off. Except one. I suppose he left the nightstand lamp on for my sake. The yacht sways ever so slightly, and I don't hear any strange noises coming from outside.Thank goodness. Ignazio hasn't found me yet.Dominico is still on the couch, sitting alone and...What the heck? The guy's half-naked? When did he take his clothes off? Where did he put them?I stand still and open-mouthed beside the bed, my insides already in knots. But maybe this is normal for him? Sleeping in his underwear... And to be fair, his dark boxers still hide enough of his private parts and a few i
[ D O M I N I C O ] Another sun-drenched morning on this thing. "Great." I sigh. It almost feels surreal after a long night of boozing and chaos. I shield my eyes from the blinding rays with my hand, wearing nothing but wrinkled pants and old boxers. I shut the door behind me. Right now Seraphine's much safer locked up in the bathroom. This shouldn't take a while. I step out into the quiet deck. Empty. Not a single soul. The waves look calm. Unlike my brain. Who the fuck woke me up for nothing? "Enzo?" I scratch my chest and head towards the stairs. I didn't order room service, and my father would've screamed his head off if it was him knocking incessantly. "Enzo," I call out, clenching my jaw as the throbbing pain in my nose intensifies. An unwanted reminder of my father's anger management issues. One of many. My face can still feel those two solid punches. It's a miracle I even fell asleep. Somehow those little pills Seraphine gave me worked their magic. The gnawing pain immed
[ S E R A P H I N E ] This bathroom is giving me claustrophobia. I sigh and press against the cool tiles, my lips getting dry and chapped. I want to jump off this yacht. Go home and be alone all week. But I'm not supposed to get out of here unless Dominico comes back and starts knocking on the door. Unless he gets me out of this cabin himself. Not sure why I'm trusting every single thing he says. It kinda feels like I have no choice, though. "Ten more hours." For now I'm stuck on this boat. Stuck inside this bathroom which obviously costs more than everything I own. "You signed that contract. Now suck it up," I sigh as my hands grip my phone. Shit. I really don't wanna show my face anywhere. I don't know if I can act like nothing happened and just get on with what I'm being paid to do here. In broad daylight, no less. It's comforting how Dominico's reminder and reassurance earlier almost defeat my frantic thoughts. I don't have much proof that he's someone I can fully trust, but
[ S E R A P H I N E ] Drive me home? Is he serious? Why would he do that? It's probably guilt. Or he pities me because of what happened. Well, almost happened. Maybe he feels guilty for what his father tried to do. I don't expect him to, but, apparently this guy feels the need to make it up to me one way or another. "You... No. You don't have to." I look away from Dominico and check my phone. No new calls. No new messages. Nothing. Ugh. Pathetic. "Angelx30" is still offline. The guy must be tied up with work. Or vacationing somewhere remote. Somewhere I've never been. Hopefully not with his girlfriend. Or wife? Yikes. I hope I'm not ruining someone's marriage or anything.Dominico reclines and swallows the pasta in his mouth. "You don't want me to make sure my father's not lurking around?" He looks at me with his expressive green eyes squinting a little, his tone denoting some concern. A humorless grin follows his question as hesitation grips my thoughts. "No. No need. But, than
[ S E R A P H I N E ]My nap is cut short when my phone buzzes between my thighs. I sit up and hastily fix my hair, the grogginess replacing the dizziness I've been ignoring all day. I sigh at the useless notification on my screen. Just another spammy email. "Ugh." I unbuckle my seat belt and stretch my back. The rain has stopped, and we're finally somewhere familiar. We're here in the spacious parking lot of my workplace. Dominico steps out of the car after parking the Maserati in the dimmer corner, just across the lobby. When I step outside, the evening air nips at my bare skin, and the place looks quiet. Typical on weeknights. There are several vehicles around us, but I think they're mostly my coworkers'. Dominico leans against the driver's window and doesn't look up from his phone even after I step in front of him. “Good nap?” I put on a smile despite the soreness in my legs and feet. My entire back needs a good crack, but I don't really have the time or money for regular appo
[ S E R A P H I N E ] My mind won't stop racing. All this overthinking is making me dizzy again. The dim glow of my night lamp doesn't help much. I need four more hours of sleep, but my brain won't give it a rest now that I'm all alone again. I'm back here in my quiet apartment, my body tired as ever, but my swirling thoughts are too loud to shut off. “Ugh.” I don't think I'll make it through this week in good health and sane. I wanna blame Dominico...even though it's not really his fault. The guy's just trying to help. My conscience keeps reminding me to thank him again for keeping his pervy father away from me and for escorting me off that yacht, and then driving me back to the country club.But is it all an act? Does he have ulterior motives? Or he's just a decent human being I luckily bumped into? The latter seems true, but my gut still says it's a bit of both. I can't think of a particular reason why Dominico thinks being my protector (and fake boyfriend?) will do him any fav
[ D O M I N I C O ]“You found Ottavio?”“Not yet.” I look away from the cloudy sky and glance at Enzo.He just got back from New York. After another meeting with his top executives this morning, he picked me up just so he won't have lunch alone with his bodyguards. Like most weekdays. Today he looks like the suited up FOH manager who overspends on his clothes, while I'm dressed like the head chef who goes out to smoke halfway through service. Not like anyone in this place cares. Unless I'm at a big corporate event, I usually don't give a shit about how I look when I'm not at work. I'm getting old, turning 30 soon, and this generation's obsession with impressing other people they don't even know is getting fuckin' ridiculous. “But I'm sure his ex knows where he's hiding.” “You found Freja's new address?” Enzo mutters as his left hand distractedly fixes his gray suit jacket. It almost matches the checkered tablecloth, but he's still the best-dressed among this hour's customers. “On