Chapter 2 Boundaries

Seraphina stood at the massive front door of the De Luca mansion with her suitcase in hand, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she stepped inside. The place screamed wealth. Every corner of the house glowed under dimmed golden lights, the scent of expensive cologne and power lingering in the air.

She didn't have to wait long.

Vincenzo appeared at the top of the staircase, fresh from a swim, water still glistening on his bare chest. His abs were sculpted, his dark joggers hanging low on his hips, making no effort to hide the tattoo that wrapped around his side. He looked lethal, like lust and danger molded into one man. "Welcome to the devil's den," he said, his deep voice echoing.

"I thought this was a job, not an invitation to hell," Seraphina replied, folding her arms.

His lips tugged into a smirk. "Same thing here, baby."

He descended the stairs slowly, each step deliberate, his gaze never leaving her. When he reached her, he didn't offer a handshake. He just picked up her suitcase and started walking.

"Come. I'll show you your room."

As they walked through the mansion's long corridor, he found every excuse to graze her hand or the small of her back. Just enough to send a message, not enough to accuse him.

Seraphina mind boiled with anger. 'He's doing this on purpose. Cocky bastard.'

"Here," he said, pushing open a sleek white door. "Your room."

Seraphina stepped inside. It was stunning. Soft blue walls, a sunrise mural across one, and a view of the garden through the floor-to-ceiling windows. But then she noticed it, the connecting door on the side wall.

Her body tensed. "That door..."

"Leads to my room," he said casually, watching her face.

She turned sharply. "You gave me a room that connects to yours?"

"Don't get ideas, sweetheart," he chuckled. "I won't enter without your permission."

Her eyes narrowed. "But I'm supposed to enter yours on command?"

He nodded. "Exactly. When I call, you come. Your job is 24/7. You'll get half a day off once a week. If you perform well, I'll raise your salary."

"What's the salary?"

"Twenty thousand dollars monthly. Plus all expenses covered. Stay loyal, work hard... and keep me happy."

Her jaw clenched at the last part. "You sure this is for a Personal Assistant position?"

Vincenzo took a step forward, his voice dropping. "Oh, make no mistake. You'll do everything a Personal Assistant does. Plus a few... special tasks."

She didn't flinch. "Like what? Iron your underwear?"

He let out a low laugh. "Damn. You've got spice. I like that."

She rolled her eyes. "Where's the HR department? I'd like to file a harassment complaint."

He leaned closer, whispering, "You're looking at HR, baby."

He was so close now that she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"Come, I'll show you my room," he added.

Against her instincts, she followed.

The moment she stepped in, it hit her. His room was dark, masculine. Black walls, silk sheets, whiskey shelves, and the unmistakable scent of arousal in the air.

He walked in like a king, spreading his arms.

"Welcome to my kingdom."

"You're obsessed with power, aren't you?"

He turned slowly, eyes raking over her body. "Power is the only language people respect in this world."

She folded her arms, her voice steady. "I respect boundaries."

"And yet here you are. In my bedroom."

She exhaled sharply. "Because you dragged me here for a tour."

"I was being hospitable," he said with a wicked grin. "So here's the schedule. Wake up at seven. Coffee at eight, my clothes laid out, breakfast ready, and you'll eat with me. And then you follow every order I give without question."

"That sounds more like a personal maid." She scowled at him.

He stepped toward her again, lowering his voice to a husky whisper. "Don't tempt me."

"Tempt you?" she scoffed. "Please. You've probably flirted with every girl who's ever walked in here."

"Not every girl. Just the ones who make my blood boil."

She stiffened as he brushed her cheek with his fingers. "You're irresistible," he murmured.

His eyes dipped to her lips.

"Thank you," she replied mechanically, shifting back.

"I gave you a compliment. I expect more than a robot response."

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you want? A smooch?"

He smirked. "Wouldn't mind one."

She took a deep breath and stepped away, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You're really not used to hearing 'no', are you?"

"Rarely do," he admitted.

"That's about to change."

He laughed under his breath, and then paused. "Has anyone ever made you feel this hot before?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation. "My boyfriend."

That word slammed into him like a punch. He blinked twice. "Boy...friend?"

"Yes. I have one."

His smirk dropped. "Are you serious right now?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He stepped back, clearly thrown off.

"You didn't mention this in your form."

"Because it's none of your business."

"You said you were 'virgin' under relationship status," he snapped.

"I said I was in a relationship," she corrected. "Virginity wasn't the topic."

He stepped back a little, genuinely caught off-guard. "You... you have a boyfriend and still walked into my house?"

Her eyes hardened. "What exactly are you implying?"

"I....." He looked frustrated, running a hand through his damp hair. "I don't like being tricked."

"No one tricked you," she said firmly. "I'm here to work, not to entertain your ego."

His nostrils flared. "So you're taken, and you're still here?"

"If you repeat it a million times, sir, my answer will still be that I Seraphina was here to work. Not to entertain your fantasies."

He stared at her, genuinely stunned. "You knew I was flirting with you. You didn't stop me."

"I didn't want to lose my job on day one. But I'm stopping it now."

He scoffed. "You expect me to believe you're in a relationship and still a... virgin?"

"Does that threaten your ego?" she asked coldly. "Not everyone sleeps around, Mr. De Luca."

He was silent.

She continued, her voice calm but cutting. "People like you think love equals sex. But for us, love is about respect and commitment. We don't rush it. Marriage comes first."

His throat tightened. She wasn't just defending herself, she was challenging him.

She's not scared. Not even a little.

"I'm impressed," he said after a pause.

"You should be," she replied sharply.

There was a beat of silence.

He walked toward her slowly, now more intrigued than angry. "Tell me something, sweetheart... does your boyfriend know what you look like when you're blushing?"

She looked him dead in the eye. "He did. And he knows what I look like when I punch someone in the face."

Vincenzo chuckled, then threw his hands up. "Fine, Fine. You win."

"Damn right I do."

He opened the door. "Let's go. I'll show you the office at the villa."

********

Inside the mansion's office wing, the air changed. It was sleek, professional. But Vincenzo's eyes stayed on her more than the files.

Seraphina sat at the desk in front of his, flipping through the company reports.

He leaned back, watching her legs cross under the table."You always dress like that?" he asked.

"Like what?"

"Like sin."

She didn't even blink. "You always undress women with your eyes?"

"Only the special ones."

She sighed in frustration. "You've got a loose definition of 'special.'"

He grinned. "That mouth of yours... is dangerous."

She smiled sweetly. "So is a stapler. Want to test it?"

He laughed, genuinely entertained.

'God, she's fiery. 'I could chase this girl for years,' he thought.

********

Later that night, Seraphina stood in her room, breathing deeply. Her back leaned against the door, her eyes flicking toward the connecting one. She was exhausted... but her mind was loud. 'What the hell is wrong with him? Who makes up a rulebook like that? Touching my waist, staring like I'm a piece of candy? And then that tantrum over a boyfriend?'

She scoffed and kicked off her shoes, sinking onto the bed. 'He's dangerous. Flirty. Possessive. And way too sure of himself.'

Her phone vibrated. A text from her boyfriend:

"You okay?"

She smiled softly and typed:

"Yeah. Long day. Boss is intense."

"Respectful?" he asked.

Her fingers paused over the keyboard.

"Trying to be."

She sighed and tossed the phone aside, walking over to the mirror. She looked at her composed reflection, but her cheeks were still pink from that whispered compliment. 'Get a grip, Seraphina. He's a devil in silk. You're here for your future. Not his games.' Still, a quiet part of her whispered back. 'But why does your heart race every time he steps closer?'