The Italian's Innocent Mistress

Chapter Three.

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Leonardo woke up hot and bothered from an erotic dream and cursed with savagery. The green eyed devil had hotwired his libido again. Jawline at an aggressive angle, he got off the bed heading to the bathroom a damn cold shower waiting. He stepped into the cold water of his huge marble shower. The rush of water felt good against his heated skin like a massage washing all the lust away, for just a while at least.

The image of Bellissa Staropoli and the feeling of her body perfectly fit on his body pushed him to the edge of insanity for two weeks now. But soon after today he'd be too close to have the green eyed siren on his bed.

An hour later, Leonardo stepped into St. James Private Bank elevator. He rarely visited the bank, it was under the capable hands of his nonna distant cousin, Luke Bryant.
The bank was a family bank from his grandmother side. But when she married his grandfather it went under the Ferraris acquisition and never changed its name to keep the tradition.

But today, it was a special occasion, his lips twitched, adrenalin rushed in his blood vein at the anticipation.
Too much to his own surprise, he'd learned Bellissa Staropoli worked as a cleaner at one of his banks. How can a girl like her worked as a cleaner was a puzzle to him.

Leonardo never took people or things at a value face or believed in coincidence. Half of his life he'd seen every trick in the female asernal used to capture his attention or dared to tame him or using emotions arising from sex to think they can manipulate him. Sex was sport to him to burn the testosterone, and nothing more.

He was one of the richest menn for a reason and in his world one can never be too cautious so he'd put a surveillance on Bellissa learning every little thing about her.

Reading the daily report from his security team he was shocked.

Entering the executive office designated for him whenever he visited. His office was seriously out of style compared to the sleek corner suites in his other companies, but he loved it. It didn't boast deep carpeting or lavish furniture or some fancy art. Its windows didn't show off a stunning view of a landscape or a city skyline. Instead the very old-fashioned office lay almost at the center of the surrounding other executives' offices one of the window overlooking a small park.

Lesurerly, he set his briefcase on the floor. He removed the coat and placed it behind the chair. Settling on the swiveling chair, he switched on the computer started to work tying up some few lose ends, his mood so bright it could shame the sun.

At exactly nine thirty, Bellissa stepped out of the lift on the appropriate floor of the St. James building; smoothing her floral dress courtesy of her late mother. She felt queasy and was on borderline to have a panic attack as approaching the receptionist. A receptionist directed her to the royal chambers and she opened the heavy oak door and started walking in the long corridor.

Early that morning, Bellissa received the call there was a security breaching in the bank and all the employees who had access to the bank they were required to report for questioning.

As she was approaching her destination, Bellissa began to sweat, not a lady like beading of perspiration on her upper lip, or moistness in her palms. No, her floral plaited dress was growing downright damp, a few more minutes and there would be circles under her armpits.

It was the first time she stepped in the St James building during a day. She always came at a little after nine at night, did her cleaning and left. She liked it that way. She had no wish to bump into anyone and attract any attention to herself. She was a night cleaner, and as such was rendered instantly invisible. Even the doorman who had been allowing her entry ever since she had started working at the bank barely glanced up when she appeared in front of him.