Niccolo Fierri [Book #2]

Chapter 19

Niccolo jerks his head up to me. He growls lowly, "didn't I tell you to leave?"

"Yes."

He rolls his eyes. "I should've known you wouldn't listen to me."

I take my time as I approach him, not wanting to piss him off more than he already was. It's not that I was afraid, but just not in a fighting mood. I'm tired of fighting. I don't want to fight anymore, especially when he could've died tonight.

He watches me closely, my heart rate increasing and my breathing more shallow. I reach for his shirt, but he flinches. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you."

"I don't need your help," he snarls.

I grab ahold of his shirt anyway. "Lift your arms."

Her jerks away from me. "Don't touch me."

"Nic, please let me help you," I beg, my voice soft, airy, pleading. His eyes suddenly darken to a shade I'm unfamiliar with. His facial expression is unreadable as he looks into my eyes.

His gaze is intense, as if he's staring through me. I almost have to look away. I bite at my lower lip when I realize what I just did.

I begged. I just begged him.

He slowly lifts his arms, allowing me to pull the shirt up and over his head. Tossing the shirt onto the bed, my eyes dart over the burn marks, bruises, and stitches. I let out a surprised gasp.

What the hell happened to him over there?

I want to ask him, but know better. These Fierri's know how to avoid questions like the plague. "You can leave now," he says, returning to the standoffish attitude I'm familiar with.

I ignore him, and begin brushing the tips of my fingers over his torso, feeling the rough, hard texture of his skin. My fingers are cold against his hot skin. He jolts slightly, caught off guard.

His breathing has changed. It's more erratic than before. He remains completely still, allowing me not only feel, but to get a picture of the pain Sin caused him.

"Does it hurt?" I ask, my voice just barely above a whisper.

"What do you think?" He retorts coldly.
I bring my eyes up to him, and he sighs softly and says, "yes, but I don't mind."

"You don't mind?" I question, unsure of what he means by that.

"I've been tortured far worse. This is nothing," he replies with a shrug as if the marks on his body are nothing but papercuts.

I bring my fingers over to one of the two inch stitches on his lower abdomen. He huffs a puff of warm air into my face and winces in pain.

"Sorry," I say, trying to sound as genuine as possible. Because I really did mean it.

"Autumn," he breathes softly. "I need you to stop touching me... please."

I was shocked. Not only was he not screaming at me, but he was begging me.

Niccolo Fierri just begged me.

I don't stop, noticing the way he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. My eyes widen when I catch the erection straining against his boxer briefs.

He likes when I touch him!?

It was almost like a discovery for me. I never knew I had this affect on him. I mean I knew he wanted me, but I never thought just me touching him could get him so-

"I said stop," he barks, pulling me from my thoughts.

He's quick and rough as he locks his hand around my wrist, rips my fingers off his chest, and pushes me so I stumble back a step.

"Just because I made you come doesn't mean things have changed between us." He makes sure he's looking directly into my eyes as he says with utter conviction, "I still despise you."

****

When I awoke the next morning, I yawned and stretched, satisfied with how comfortable this bed was last night. I felt like I had been sleeping on a cloud.

That feeling of happiness faded quickly as the memory of last night came flooding back. Niccolo's words bring a frown to my face.

I still despise you.

Climbing out of bed, I hopped into the shower and came back out to find an oversized white tee shirt and gray sweatpants neatly folded on the bed.

I slipped them on, the clothes hanging loosely off my petite frame. If it wasn't for my ass, these pants would be dragging at my ankles. Once I was satisfied, I joined everyone in the dining room.

The smell of breakfast foods and coffee permeate my nostrils. My stomach grumbles in response. Everyone except Niccolo is already sitting at the table, including Marcellius and Mia's children.

Cesare looks to me, a half eaten croissant covered in powdered sugar hanging out of his mouth. He waves me over to a open seat beside him. I join his side just as Luciano hands me a plate.

It consists of a yogurt cup, mixed fruit, and a croissant covered in powered sugar and berries. He also hands me a glass of Orange Juice. He gives me a smile and I return the gesture, thanking him. He nods, turning his attention back to his own food.

"How'd you sleep cara(dear)?" Mama Fierri asks beside Luciano.

"Very well, thank you."

"Good, good," she responds with a nod of approval. I was very appreciative of them for allowing me stay here. It didn't seem like they had enough room with such a big family, but Mama Fierri found a way.

I ate slow, savoring my morning. Normally, I'd go back to bed or hang out with my sister, but because Marcellius decided to give everyone the night off I decided to take my time, and enjoy the moment. I don't remember the last time I even had this good of a fulfilling breakfast.

My mornings usually consist of me nursing a hangover, sleeping in, or stuffing my face with cereal. This was definitely the type of change I could get use to. Speaking of change...

"Hey Cesare. Do you know where I could find a nice apartment for a decent price?"

He finishes the last bit of fruit on his plate, before burping. "Yeah, but what's wrong with your place?"

I send him a glare, hoping he'll catch the hint. He does. "Right, forgot about that. Well have you considered just asking Niccolo to give the apartment building back?"

"Yes," I tell him with a blush. I tried that and it didn't work very well. I lost, and he gets to keep his claim over me.

Which is why I need to get out of there. There has to be anywhere else I can stay to get away from him.

"There's actually a few apartments I can show you. I'll take you today."

"Okay."

"Actually," Marcellius cuts in. "Niccolo already ended his contract with your apartment building. He sold it back to your previous landlord."

"Wait, what?" I say, almost choking on a piece of fruit. "When did he do that?"

"A few days ago."

This has got to be the best news I've ever heard. I didn't think he had a generous bone in his body. It seems I was wrong, and possibly wrong about him. Maybe there is a diamond under that hard rock exterior.

Maybe.