Alessandro |18+|

15

A/N: I was thinking if I should remove the iconic line in this chapter but I decided to keep it for the OG readers so don't come at me please 😭

Also, I just want to say that at any point, in any time, Aria is allowed to stop whatever's happening and I'm not going to have you calling her names for not doing something that she's not entirely comfortable with. Okay? Thank you.

Enjoy!!

ARIA

His place. His home.

"Do you want to drive?" he asked, handing me a key that didn't even look like a key.

I shook my head. "No, thank you. I'm good."

"Okay," he laughed and we got in our seats. I watched him as he fired up the engine and the dashboard lights illuminated the inside. The car growled underneath us and I gave him a look.

There was no way he had expected me to drive that.

As Sandro drove out of the parking, I leaned my back against the door, keeping my body facing him He glanced at me, and then down to my thighs before pivoting his attention back to the road. I shifted in my seat, making myself comfortable to hide the fact that I had different scenarios running through my mind.

As I gazed at his profile, I noticed the scar through his eyebrow and it held a story I was dying to hear.

"What happened?" I asked curiously, reaching out to stroke it with my thumb. I pulled my hand away when I realised how weird it was to just touch somebody's scar. Again, Sandro didn't seem to pay it any thought.

"It's not what you'd expect. I fell off my bike and smacked my face against the edge of a pavement. I was five," he explained, shaking his head at the memory. I laughed because I could imagine a tiny Alessandro riding his bike on the streets of Italy.

"And this one," I touched underneath his ear, where a barely visibly scar was covered in tattoos.

"Probably also not what you'd expect. I got bit by a mean Chihuahua when I was thirteen," Sandro leaned back into his seat, keeping on hand on the bottom of the steering wheel.

I gasped, lifting up my dress to trace the scar on my upper thigh. I was a child when I got bit by a dog with horrible owners. It was a long time ago but it had permanently traumatised me and since then, dogs scared the absolute shit out of me.

"I got bit too," I murmured, tracing the stretched out scar-tissue. It was small but once puberty hit, it grew in size.

Sandro spared me a quick glance, looking at the scar for just a fraction of a second. And then his fist tightened around the steering wheel and I realised that I might have been showing a little bit too much skin. I kept my chuckle to myself, crossing my leg over the other because the way I affected Sandro, also succeeded at affecting me. His reactions to me were the most tempting part about him.

Praise kink?

Probably.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," he said, clearing his throat.

"It's okay," I replied, pulling the hem of dress down.

Sandro continued to drive to his place. I wasn't exactly sure where he lived. Penthouse? A house? An apartment? The question was answered when we pulled up to a tall and glass covered building. Sandro entered through an underground parking, making his way to a reserved space right next to an elevator.

I had read an article about the amazing infrastructure and architecture of Lanti Properties but had never seen it in person. Lanti? Galanti. Wow.