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“You must know by now that doesn’t work. Especially after last night.”

“That was a mistake.”

“Some mistake. You were crying my name.”

“For the last time!”

The elevator arrives, its doors sliding open. Portia darts inside while I casually follow. It seems to dawn on her how useless it is to even protest.

I’m a determined man and I don’t give up easily.

And by easily, I mean ever.

She sighs and closes her eyes, leaning against the elevator wall. “I’ll resign from this position. Effective immediately.”

“Why would you think you need to do that,dolcezza?”

“Because,” she says, eyes popping open for a glare at me, “I refuse to be known as the woman who fucked her way to the top!”

“I’ve told you if anyone says?—”

“I know what you’ve said. It doesn’t mean people won’t talk. It doesn’t mean it’s not becoming increasingly fucking obvious what’s going on between us, Rafael. I’ve worked hard for every career milestone I’ve achieved. I won’t throw it away by becoming your office plaything. I absolutely refuse. I’d rather walk away from this job than become that.”

Her voice trembles as she speaks. The conviction is sincere, her concerns reflecting in her expression.

I’m not a man who feels guilt often.

To rise to the level I have, I have had to cut off most emotional responses like guilt and shame. I’ve had to essentially erase any semblance of a conscience.

Not only does being a billionaire businessman require it of me, but Il Diavolo and his viselike grip on the city does as well.

This moment is a rare exception.

My chest tightens. Guilt presses down heavily like an iron weight. I take a step toward her, desperate to right this wrong.

Make her understand why I’ve done what I have.

“I understand,” I say, cupping her elbows in either hand. “It was selfish of me to do that. Leave the roses on your desk knowing everyone would see. I wanted you to know I enjoyed our time together last night, but you’ve told me your concerns about what people will think. They’re valid concerns. Know that I’m taking them seriously,dolcezza.

“People may judge if they believe something is going on between us. You’ve worked hard to get where you are today. That’s not something I would want to take from you. And it’s true—the achievements you’ve made are special. You’re the first Black woman in Newport to do what you’ve done. You are distinct in every way and it’s possible fools will use these things to dismiss you. It doesn’t matter if I punish them—people will talk.”

She avoids my gaze as I close in on her. My hands slide up her arms, then sweep across the narrow line of her shoulders, traveling until I’m cupping her face altogether.

“Dolcezza, look at me.”

Her eyelashes flutter before she finally dares a glance up at me. My grin comes on its own, half amused by her reluctancy.

Hard to get ’til the very end.

It only turns me on more. Makes me crave her more.

Makes the moment she gives in that much more rewarding.

When her dark gaze meets mine, I look her in the eye and stroke her cheek with my thumb. “I’ll remove myself from daily operations at Metro News. I’ll remain owner, but I’ll hire a new executive to run the day-to-day operations. You won’t have to worry about seeing me in this building. Will that make you feel better?”

“You’re being serious?”

“I wouldn’t say I will if I won’t. I was here to spend time with you. This was the quickest way I knew how.”