The ringing continued. It sounded like a siren.
Ivy's hand trembled so badly she almost dropped the phone. Bruno watched her, his expression unreadable, his hand resting heavy and hot on her thigh.
She swiped the green icon. She hit the speaker button.
"Ivy?" Clive's voice filled the car. It was impatient. Sharp. "Where the hell are you? Catrina said you left the party early because you were 'sick'."
Ivy closed her eyes. She forced air into her lungs.
"I… yes. I wasn't feeling well."
Her voice sounded thin.
"Where did you go? I called the apartment, you weren't there."
"I stayed at a friend's house," Ivy lied. "I didn't want to be alone."
Bruno leaned in. His teeth grazed the shell of her ear. He bit down, gently but with enough pressure to send a shockwave down her spine.
Ivy gasped. She slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.
Clive paused. "What was that?"
"Nothing," Ivy choked out. "I… I stubbed my toe."
Bruno's hand moved. He slid his fingers under the hem of the shirt. His touch was deliberate. Teasing.
Clive sighed. "God, you're clumsy. Look, just get back to the city. We have the family dinner tonight at the manor. Don't be late."
Ivy grabbed Bruno's wrist, trying to stop him. It was like trying to stop a hydraulic press. He didn't budge.
"I'll be there," she said.
"Wear the blue dress," Clive ordered. "Mom likes that one. It makes you look… respectable."
Bruno's eyes darkened. The playfulness vanished. He pinched the soft skin of her inner thigh. Hard.
Ivy bit her lip so hard she tasted copper. A whimper escaped her throat before she could stop it.
"Clive? Are you there?" she asked quickly, covering the noise.
"Yeah. Just don't embarrass me tonight, Ivy. I'm hanging up."
The line went dead.
Ivy dropped the phone. She slumped back against the leather seat, gasping for air as if she had just run a marathon.
Bruno pulled away. He looked at her with a mix of disgust and fascination.
"A friend's house? Stubbed your toe?" He scoffed. "You're a natural liar, Ivy."
"You forced me," Ivy whispered.
Bruno reached out and grabbed her face, squishing her cheeks between his fingers.
"Remember this feeling," he said. His voice was low. "Every time you lie to him. Every time you play the good little wife. You'll think of me."
The car slowed down.
"Boss, we're here," Hank's voice came over the intercom.
Bruno released her. He sat back and adjusted his tie. In a split second, the lust and the darkness were hidden behind the mask of the CEO.
He reached down and picked up a paper shopping bag from the floor. He tossed it into her lap.
"Change. I don't want you walking into your building wearing my shirt. It sends the wrong message. Or maybe the right one, but too early."
Ivy opened the bag. Inside was a dress. A pale cream sheath dress. It was simple, elegant, and looked incredibly expensive.
She looked at him. "How…?"
"I have sisters," Bruno said dismissively. "I know sizes."
He opened the door and stepped out onto the curb.
Ivy scrambled to change in the back of the car. Her fingers fumbled with the zipper. She felt exposed, even with the tinted windows.
She stepped out of the car. They were two blocks away from her apartment building. A safe distance.
Bruno was lighting another cigar. He didn't look at her.
"See you tonight, Ivy."
He got back in the car. The door slammed.
Ivy stood on the sidewalk, clutching the paper bag with his shirt inside. She watched the black car disappear into the New York traffic.
She felt dirty. She felt terrified.
And for the first time in her life, she felt alive.
