The second book in the Family Business series- please read the FIRST book here: https://www.wattpad.com/story/141927720-family-business
Aria Rossi leads the movement against Xander Arnell's rise to power. Does her mafia background paired with the...
"Stay," Orlando says quietly, taking a sip of lemon tea. "Sierra would love it if you did and it's a long walk back to your cabin in the dark."
I shake my head, "I can't, Lan. I don't have any of my stuff."
He gestures to the bathroom, "CC may or may not have packed an emergency bag for you in case you stay here." His cheeks heat as he says it, looking down quickly at his tea. "If you want. I can take the couch."
I bite my lip, looking at the front door then back to the bathroom. More out of intrigue, I stand, walking to the bathroom. I find the travel kit I spent 45 minutes looking for, and called my brother, yelling at him for five minutes about sitting comfortably on the shelf, along with an extra set of clothes. "She can pack for me, but not herself?" I ask, raising my eyebrows, shifting through the crop top, shorts, bra, and underwear. Polar follows me to the bathroom, plopping down, his tail wagging on the ceramic tile.
Orlando appears in the bathroom doorway, leaning his shoulder against the frame. "Shocking, right?"
I turn from the clothes then am unsuccessful in biting back a gasp as I am inches from him. He switches the mug into his other hand, leaning his arm up against the top of the doorframe. My stomach flips, butterflies dancing around. "Yes," I whisper meekly, my words coming out garbled and my voice cracks. He slowly smirks, an eyebrow raised. Mischief dances in his gray-green eyes as he takes a slow sip of tea. I can smell his cologne, a light airy scent that can only be described as home to me. "Don't look at me like that, Lan."
"Like what?"
~
I am 16 again. I snuck out of my house late at night, driving to the Violante's. The guards let me in, sending me to the servant door where Orlando is waiting for me, hands in his sweatpants pockets. I climb from Draven's McLaren, Orlando whistling at the vehicle.
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"That's yours?" He asks, coming over, running a hand over the sleek paint job.
I shake my head, "It's Drey's but he's in downtown Verna at his apartment."
"Can I drive?" He asks hopefully, his eyes flashing in the porch lights.
"No but we can take it for a spin," I smirk, walking over to open the passenger door.
The door rotates up, nearly hitting him in the face. I chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He has to climb behind the driver door to enter, the seats in a triangle shape. Once he is settled, I press the button to close the passenger door then walk back to the driver side. I am not great at driving stick shift but can do it well enough to impress my 19 year-old boyfriend. Pressing the clutch and the break, I wave my hand over the front of the wheel, the car turning over by itself. The three screens light up, two on either side of the wheel, the other at the center, showing a 0 since we are not moving yet. "This is a 3 million dollar car!" Orlando raves from the backseat. "It took years for this to become street legal in the US!"
