Page 50 of Ruthless Lord

Stefano appears, frowning up at me. “Not sure I like the nickname.”

“Sorry, darling dearest. Just wanted to let you know that we’re unpacking up here.”

“Who’swe?”

“My personal assistant and I.”

Stefano’s frown deepens. I swear, that man’s got a frown for all occasions. I could make a new language based on the tilt of his lips and the furrow in his brow. “You have a stranger in my room?”

“Relax, Emily’s fine.” I turn away, dismissing him with a flick of the wrist. “And it’s my room too, remember?”

He follows after me. Emily’s rummaging around in the dresser, trying to make space for my tank tops. Stefano appears in the door behind me, looking extremely unhappy. But then, that’s his default expression. I think the only time I’ve ever seen him smile was when he was spanking me raw and filling me with his dick.

Perverted bastard.

“I think we need to talk,wife.” His eyes drift to Emily. “About the rules in our house.”

“Maybe after I’m done unpacking. How’s that sound?”

“I think now’s better.”

I turn and face him, starting to get annoyed. “Are you seriously making a big deal about Emily being in our bedroom?”

Poor Emily is working very hard at acting like she can’t hear us arguing about her, which is very sweet. Though I wouldn’t blame her if she stormed out from sheer embarrassment. But I guess that’s what happens when you work for my grandfather for so long. She’s probably good at pretending she’s invisible.

“We should discuss this in private.” His nose wrinkles, and I swear he manages to look even more annoyed if that’s possible. “Rightnow.”

“How about we don’t? This isn’t only your house anymore. I live here, and if I want to have my personal assistant help unpack all my clothes, then?—”

“Oh, shit,” Emily says suddenly. The surprise and fear in her voice make me whip around.

She’s standing beside the dresser. My tanks are half shoved in beside what looks like Stefano’s black socks.

And she’s holding a very big gun in her hands, the grip pinched between her fingers like it’s covered in slime.

“Oh, shit,” I echo, equally shocked.

Stefano strides past me. He storms right up to Emily and lightly takes the gun away from her. She lets out a shocked littlemeepsound as she backs away, hands covering her mouth. Stefano casually ejects a bullet from the chamber and removes the magazine before putting the gun back on top of the dresser.

“You keep aloaded gunin our freaking bedroom?!” I stare at him with a mixture of horror and rage.

He turns to face me. “I keep several loaded guns inmybedroom.”

“Oh my god! Stefano, how many are there?”

“Not counting that one, I have four more.”

“You hadfive loaded gunshanging around our freaking room?!” I’m genuinely appalled by the sheer amount of firepower this crazy bastard’s got squirrelled away in here. “What the hell do you needfivefor?”

“In case the other four aren’t within easy reach.” His eyes are locked on mine, face a cloud of frustration. “Emily, would you please excuse us?”

Emily looks at me, panic in her eyes. I nod at her slightly. “It’s okay,” I say. “I should have a conversation with my gun-hoarding husband.”

“Sorry,” she says as she hurries past. She gently shuts the door behind her.

Stefano doesn’t move. He’s in a tight black t-shirt, and his biceps bulge against the sleeves as he crosses his arms. It’s tucked into a pair of black slacks, perfectly fitted to his muscular legs. The effect is obscene. He’s far too attractive, even with all the freaking guns lying around his house.

“My life isn’t set up for strangers to go rummaging around my things.”