Alessandro |18+|

14

"McDonalds? That'll be our second date, baby," he said, and I look up to see if was serious and he really was. Sandro reached over, grabbing the familiar gun from the tiny compartment.

I frowned. "Is that really necessary? We're just going to eat. What if someone sees that on you?"

"And then what? What could they possibly do, bellissima?" he asked in a tone that I didn't appreciate at all. I turned away from him, not saying anything. There was a whole lot of shit that I still didn't know about Sandro and I was in no position to question it.

I let out a gasp and my eyes widened when the back of my neck was grabbed, and my head was turned to face him. He was glaring at me, his stoic expression vastly different from the hold he had on me. He made sure not to hurt me while keeping his grip firm and assuring I couldn't move.

"Don't turn away from me, Aria. Use your words," his voice was low, the Italian accent coming through heavily. His face was so close to me, and I was incapable of speaking.

"I-" I stuttered, unable to form a clear sentence. Was it wrong of me to think about how fucking hot he looked? He stared at me intently, awaiting an answer I wasn't sure I had. I licked my lips, swallowing hard.

"I didn't like your tone. You can't speak to me like that," I said, a little bit more confident. Sandro seemed pleased with my answer, nodding before letting go of me. My neck was left feeling cold.

"Good girl. I'm sorry," he reached over, giving me an apologetic kiss on the cheek. "I have to keep this on me at all times. One of the cons of being a-"

"I get it. I'm sorry for pestering," I apologised too, just because it felt right.

"Don't apologise, bellissima," he said softy, taking my hand to give me a kiss on my knuckles. It made me feel...very fucking good. Almost too good. He reached over, unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the door so I could step out. The air outside was cold, instantly cooling down my hot skin and I revelled in it.

Together, hand in hand, we walked to the main entrance. He didn't seem too fazed by it, but my heart was racing.

Upon arrival, a man dressed in a three-piece suit greeted us and Sandro even had a little chat with him. He looked like a regular. My mood dampened the tiniest bit at the thought of Sandro taking someone else there. I had no reason to feel the way I did, so I dismissed the thought entirely. It didn't matter. I was going to enjoy my evening with him.

Inside, the restaurant was the most beautiful restaurant I had ever been in. Orange lamps hung from the ceiling, creating a soft and dimmed hue on the interior. Gentle music played in the background, nearly drowned out by the small amount of customers chatting. I noticed there were only a handful of people dining, so privacy wouldn't be an issue.

"You seem uncomfortable. If you want, we can go somewhere else?" Sandro asked, pulling my chair out for me and I gave him a grateful smile, wiping my palms on the hem of my dress. I didn't want to show that I wasn't used to that level of elegance.

"I'm okay, thank you. This place is..." I looked around, amazed by how homey and comfortable it felt despite how absolutely gorgeous it was. "Very nice."

"Thank you." He sat opposite me, unbuttoning his suit jacket with a quick flick of his finger.

"Wait...this is yours?" I asked, not even surprised.

"Yes," he answered, reaching over the table to place his hand over mine.

The way he was looking at me, almost adoringly and fully sincere. It felt more intimate than the kiss we shared in my apartment and it was overwhelming. Not in a bad way, but in a way that made me feel as if I'd let him do anything to me if he looked at me like that. I turned my gaze to the paintings hanging on the wall.