Possessive Landlord: An Instalove Possessive Alpha Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 168)

by Flora Ferrari

  “Will you fix up the building, or just demolish it like they all seem to nowadays,” she muses, almost to herself and I feel a stab of hurt as she looks out the window. Away from me and back into the only life she’s known, the one without me in it.

  I grind my jaw, trying not to focus on the past, my past without her.

  “If you want, we can fix up the whole building, any way you think it would be best for the tenants… no increase in rent either,” I tell her.

  If she hadn’t been there, I might well have leveled the whole place, which was the strongest recommendation from the developers I work with. But now, after meeting Trudi, after hearing it’s a neighborhood that could use something positive in it, I’m thinking differently.

  “You’re just saying that to be nice,” she says. “Nobody in their right mind would spend a dime on that place. It should be scrapped.”

  “Where would everyone go?” I ask her, feeling like the tables have been turned and I’m the one who cares about things, people and places now.

  “Not your problem, right?” she says, not even trying to hide her sarcasm.

  “Nobody made you stay there.” I challenge her, feeling a thrill as her eyes flash wider on me.

  “I really don’t see how that’s your business!” she says, and I know right now, that I’m hooked. I love a girl with her own mind, but I love a girl with her own voice even more.

  I chuckle to myself, because she’s right. I’m poking her a little, to see how far she’ll put up with me, but I know I have to be a little delicate too. She’s had a rough morning, rough few days by the sounds of it.

  “Tell me about what happened, with your job,” I ask her, but it comes out more like a command.

  She wants to have her say about that too, but she recounts the memory of it playing in her features long before she answers me.

  “It’s a crappy job, but I like the regulars. They make it bearable, like that cop…”

  Sloane.

  “But yesterday, there was this guy, I dunno, maybe a tweaker or something. Real freaky looking with shifty eyes, he sits down and asks for a glass of water. My boss grumbled but gave me the nod, some people like to think before ordering.”

  I lean forward again, this time because I’m interested in what she’s saying. Her voice, the way her face moves when she talks. I could listen to Trudi all day long.

  “So this guy, he sits there for like an hour and I’m starting to wonder, so I ask him point blank if he’s going to order.”

  I watch her face fall and her body starts to shiver, like she’s cold all of a sudden.

  “What happened?” I press her, knowing I don’t want to know but needing to know.

  “He just grabs me, like really hard… He yanks my arm and… he grabbed my chest… and then he…”

  It’s too much for her, and she’s crying. Reliving something like that’s too much for her, it’s too soon.

  I switch my seat and slide over next to her, my arms go around her and I’m relieved more than anything when I feel her burrowing into me once more.

  Safe.

  Protected.

  I had no idea that’s what happened, and although I’m holding her, comforting her. I’m furious that she had to experience anything so brutal, and then again at the hands of that prick Marco this morning.

  “You’re alright now, Trudi. You’re safe. I promise. Nothing and nobody is ever going to do anything like that to you again. D’you understand me?” I ask her, my own jaw grinding my teeth to powder as I try and talk.

  I can feel her nodding, sobbing and sniffing again, and once we get to the hotel for coffee, I sit with her until she feels up to it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Trudi

  “We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” he says, and I lift myself up from his warmth, his rippled body underneath his suit is something I could just live in.

  “I feel stupid, that’s all,” I tell him, because I do. All I’ve done all morning is blubber about the things that happened to me.

  “It’s natural,” he assures me, “You’ve had two terrible things happen in two days.”

  “Three.” I correct him, and he quizzes me with his eyes.

  “I didn’t kiss you when I had the chance…”

  I stop with my mouth open. Stunned.

  I did not just say that, did I?

  “And when was your big chance?” he asks me, smirking, not even missing a beat.

  “When you held my chin up with your finger,” I recount to him.

  “Like this?” he whispers, and I feel my tongue wetting my lips, wondering if any of this is even real anymore.

  He puts his thick finger under my chin again, tenderly holding my face with his thumb and finger. I’m shivering again, but not from cold or bad memories this time. This is the best kind of shivers and he’s the only one who can give them to me.

  I watch his eyes soften, a low sound coming from him that mixes with my little whimpering gasp and I feel his breath on mine, our lips almost touching.

  The blast from a truck’s horn, which sounds more like a freight train right behind us makes me jump an inch off the seat.

  I bite my lip and the inside of my cheek, wincing in pain and making a startled, unsexy, killing the moment sound as I notice Kane’s face darkening too.

  Pushing the intercom button in the center console, Kane growls through to his drive, “What seems to be the problem?”

  “Sorry Sir, we’re double parked and this truck-”

  But he lets the button go, lets the concern go from his face too, and he holds mine in his hand, asking me if I’m alright again.

  “I’ll be alright, I bit my lips though… and my cheek… Shall we go in for coffee then?” I ask, not even wanting to move away from him for a minute.

  “Do you really want to go in for coffee?” he asks, reading my mind and I feel his hand over mine, guiding it to his thigh.

  I’m shaking my head in the negative, and we try again for that kiss.

  There’s no horn blasting, but a terrible pounding on the window right behind me, like something crashed against it. I jump in my seat again and this time Kane’s not amused.

  He’s up and out of his seat in two seconds before I can even catch my breath.

  The driver of the truck’s gotten out and decided to have it out with whoever’s in the limo in front of him.

  Bad idea.

  I’m trying to get out of my side, craning my head to see what’s happening, but I can’t get the door open.

  I’m beginning to wonder, in a split second of panic, if maybe this Kane guy is a little unhinged, this is twice in as many hours he’s gone off his rocker.

  It’s because he’s with me though. I know it’s because of me.

  He’s protecting you, silly. He’s being a real man…

  Scooting over to his side, I get out of the car and see Kane walking towards the huge truck driver, who’s not quite as tall as Kane, but looks like he knows how to look after himself.

  “The fuck, asshole? Can’t your driver read? This is a loading zone, fuckface… go park your money someplace else, some of us have to work for a living.”

  Kane looks over to me, I know he wants me to get back in the car, but I can’t help it. I need to see what’s going on.

  “What the fuck are you looking at, porky?” The truck driver calls over to me, and I see Kane getting all puffed up again, like he did with Marco.

  His driver comes out and steps in between the two of them, not even trying to hold Kane back, but leaning in to say something to the trucker.

  Trucker guy stops and goes quiet real quick, his face going a shade of gray. Then a tinge of green.

  “I… I’m sorry Mr. Barret… I didn’t know… I only…”

  Looking over at the truck I can see the name Barret Industries in huge letters on the front and on the sides. One of those signs under the bumper, inviting other drivers to call and tell Barret Industries just how well their
drivers are doing today.

  Not so good today, it seems.

  Kane looks over to me again, then back to the trucker, who’s almost in tears by this stage. Seems he really wants to keep his job, as well as his teeth.

  Kane’s driver is having some words with the truck driver, then Kane steps over, his hand firmly on the man’s shoulder, leaning in to say something himself.

  Seconds later, I have a very red-faced but genuine apology from the man for speaking to me the way he did.

  “I’m sorry, Miss. It shouldn’t matter who you’re with today, and I’m not just sayin’ that ‘cos he’s standing over there. I was an asshole just now and I apologize.”

  I give him a small nod, I feel for the guy. I know what it’s like to lose your cool and your job in the same moment, but I also know Kane’s not going to ruin this guy’s life over it.

  Kane leads me over to the canopy of the hotel, still snarling a bit but happy to see me smiling about something for a change.

  “I think coffee’s a great idea now, don’t you?” I suggest, and we go through the huge hotel lobby to a fancy bistro. The type I would never even think about walking into.

  “I think you have to be a guest to sit here,” I warn Kane, who finally brightens his mood.

  “Or the owner,” he says, winking at me, and I shudder again as he places his hand on my back, helping me into a seat by the window. One that doesn’t have a view of his limo parked out front.

  I feel awkward again. It’s too much for me to take in.

  How can one guy be so rich, and why the hell would he be interested in me?

  “Because you’re real, Trudi. You’re no BS,” he says, reading my mind as he unfolds a napkin for himself, considering the menu but then asking if he can just order for us both.

  “I haven’t eaten yet… I’m pretty hungry,” he says and I’m still sitting with my mouth open, amazed at how he can know what I’m even thinking.

  I bet he can’t tell everything I’m thinking, and I jump, feeling his hand on my knee under the table.

  “I can guess most of what you’re thinking, but for now, we need to eat,” he says, giving me another of his sultry winks and a sly grin.

  The waiter appears, then disappears and food, lots of it with hot coffee and what looks like half the restaurant arrives on a series of trolleys in moments.

  Everything’s so fresh, hot and most of all, delicious.

  I want to feel awkward about not paying, about having no money. But something in Kane’s eyes tells me that I’d better get used to this sort of thing if we’re going to have fun today.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kane

  “Do you own everything with Barret written on it?” she asks me, and I have to think for a moment.

  “No.” I reply thoughtfully.

  But I’m yet to put my name, as well as a few other things on her.

  “The hotel isn’t named Barret,” I tell her and she pokes her tongue out at me, drinking her coffee and looking at me over the rim of her cup.

  I’ve taken her out of that apartment, I’ve almost had her lips on mine and now I’m watching her eat. It’s the hottest damned floor show but I’m finding it hard to focus on eating, doing anything really.

  “What do you want to do?” I ask her, “Not just today or tomorrow, but what is it that makes Trudi tick? What’s your passion?” I ask her.

  She doesn’t look fazed or embarrassed by my question, which makes me glad. I have a knack for making things happen when people have ideas, goals or just passion, and I want to know hers.

  I know I sure have a passion for her, but I’m trying to focus on something else while we’re in public, trying to control my urge to bend her over the buffet and take her right here, right now.

  “It sounds stupid, but I’ve always wanted to be a real estate agent or manage property. Seeing old homes turned new, families made happier than ever… that sort of thing… like I said it’s stupid.”

  I’m nodding, but thoughtfully, I don’t think it’s stupid. “Why though? Why real estate. Why the family home?” I ask her, probing a little deeper before I scold her for being down on anything she says or comes up with.

  “Because I guess I never had one… being an orphan…”

  I make a sound without meaning too. I feel my heart beat faster, bloom and finally about to burst.

  I could just kiss her.

  “Family…” I croak, fighting back my own emotions, which I never show, especially in public. The thought of Trudi as a mom, making a home and having a family…

  Our family.

  It’s more than I’d hoped for.

  “Do you want to tell me more about being an orphan?” I hear myself asking, registering her uncomfortable look.

  “There’s not a lot to tell… I grew up in state care. Fostered until I was about six… until I started to get, well. Until I grew out of my state provided clothes too quickly for anyone to be that interested in me.”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “What are you talking about?” I ask her, trying not to let my anger show.

  “If you had a kid and they grew up, but they also grew out, would you want to shell out on new clothes so often? Would you want your foster kid to be the one teased in class, always coming home early, always crying? Would you want your kid to-”

  “Okay, stop it!” I growl, tossing my napkin down in front of me, “I’ve heard enough.”

  She’s working herself up to being upset again, our day’s not supposed to go this way. I’m changing all that. Her past, her present and her future, starting right fucking now.

  “I don’t know where you get all this, but it’s not how I see you Trudi, okay?” I say, forcing myself to keep calm.

  “What do you see then, and how would you know what it’s been like for me, huh?”

  I reach over and feel relief when she doesn’t take her hand out of mine, which I close over hers and squeeze gently.

  “I think you’re the most wonderful, beautiful and warm person I’ve ever met,” I say honestly, “Not to mention honest, feisty and… a little opinionated,” I add with a grin, and we both end up smiling.

  “So what’s that got to do with real estate?” she asks me and I think for a moment.

  “I think they’re all traits of a very successful person in the making,” I say with total confidence. I really mean it.

  “Really?” she asks, making a face that kind of cancels out what I just said, but I know she’s got it inside, she just needs to find it more often.

  “Here.” I tell her, putting a key on the plate next to her.

  “What’s this?” she asks, looking uncertain again.

  “The key to your building. That opens every door. It’s yours.”

  “What am I going to do with that?” she asks, looking uneasy.

  “You’re the new agent. You’ll need to hire a new Super, but I can help with that, I have an agency pool…”

  She looks shocked, stunned. “But I don’t even know how to…”

  I’m shaking my head now, I won’t let her start with all this again.

  “You know exactly what needs doing with the place, you just told me, plus you know everyone in the building, right?” She nods.

  “But…”

  “No buts. You started this morning, but you can have the rest of the day off,” I bark at her, pretending like she’s got a new possessive boss as well as a new possessive landlord. “You did say you’d give me today anyway… and you are mine, for today,” I growl.

  “What’s my pay?” she asks cheekily, then flushes with embarrassment, shocked she’s even going along with this. But I’ve already made my mind up.

  “Your apartment, plus a base salary we can discuss later. Your first piece of real estate, let’s see how you manage it. Give you a taste for it.”

  “Uhhh… You’re serious, aren’t you?” she asks me, gulping. My stern face is my answer. I wouldn’t joke about something like this.

  She w
ants, she gets. That’s how it’s going to be from now on, and things that can help her too, things that can help other people. Help her be who she wants to be and go where she wants to go. As long as it’s with me…

  Sounds like a perfectly fair suggestion in my mind.

  I have to make her mine, properly claim her and as soon as possible. I don’t think I’ve taken my eyes off her for more than a few minutes since I met her. And I don’t think I ever will.

  “Trudi…” I start and I register the ‘here it comes’ look in her eyes, which I’m quick to want to reassure her isn’t coming.

  “I stay here, at the hotel when I’m in the city,” I tell her, wondering where I’m going with this, why I’d even bother to tell anyone.

  Because I want to take her up to my room and have my way with her now. Enough with coffee, food, superintendents, truck drivers and real estate… I want what’s mine now…

  I’m not surprised at my impatience, but I think Trudi is a little.

  “What are you saying?” she asks, trying to hide her coy smile, blowing on her coffee and making me groan to myself as I feel myself shifting to full attention all over again.

  “I’m saying after coffee I’d like to show you around…”

  The rim of my dick…

  “The room. My room…” I stammer.

  Our room.

  “I’m done!” She pipes in over me, almost squealing, barely giving me time to even think of a reason we’ve hardly touched anything. She’s surprised me and beaten me at my own game of thinking I have her all figured out. I think she wants what I want to give her as much as I need to give it right now.

  The waiter returns, alarmed I’m leaving so soon.

  “Is everything alright, Sir? I mean… if we can do anything else…” he stammers.

  I’m standing now, covering myself with my napkin, which I decide to take with me.

  “It’s fine, really. I… we really just have to go, that’s all.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Trudi

  “I’ll be filling you in tomorrow…” he says in his low, smoky voice while we wait for the elevator.

  “Filling me in?” I ask, trying to sound sexy but falling short.