Pain And Pleasure 18+✓

Fifty-six

He smiles rather fondly now, bobbing his head in agreement. "I appreciate that. He may be adopted, but to me, he is my first son and he'll always be."

That's noble. I bite my bottom lip, staring at him with a bit of admiration as he looks very sincere professing his fatherly love.

"Now, what's your next question?" He looks relaxed as he leans back comfortably.

I sigh and smile.

"Does he have siblings? You said he's your first son," I ask, my curiosity growing rapidly over time.

"Yes. Perhaps you'll meet them next time," he says.

"Next time?" I whisper, more to myself as that remark is full of ambiguity and straight impossibilities. I ignore it by saying, "Oh, forgive me. I'll bring you a glass of water."

"Pasta Bolognese. Is that what I'm smelling? The beef, the herbs, and that typical floury scent?" he suddenly inquires before I move.

And damn! I forgot that I was preparing dinner.

"Um, yeah." I nod, smiling feebly. "I was cooking. You caught me in the middle of it."

"Hmm, that smell always reminds me of home. You know Italians and pasta are like peanut butter and jelly for Americans, huh?" he enthuses.

Isla would agree about peanut butter and jelly.

"You're Italian?" I ask.

"I am. And from Bologna, so I can recognize that smell from miles away—don't ask me how."

That explains his accent. No wonder Adrian is fluent in Italian too.

I pull in a breath and smile. "I'll be back. Excuse me."

My mind jingles the moment I slip into the kitchen area. What the actual fuck! Adrian's dad is here at my little abode? What could bring him into my house out of the blue, though? How does he even know me?

Okay, easy, bitch!

I inhale and exhale a deep breath. Maybe he has something to say or ask. I don't know. But I do know that Adrian has no idea that his father is here. Hell, I've never even thought he has a family with how illusive he has been on the subject.

Something is not okay.

I find Roberto on his feet, eyes stuck on the accent cabinet filled with photo frames of my siblings, our dad, and my two friends. Gingerly, I place the jug of water and a glass on the coffee table, announcing my return in such a fashion.

"Your siblings?" He points at Jake and Isla in the same photo.

"Yeah," I reply and let him take a look around until he chooses to settle. "You seem like a very hard-working woman. It must've been difficult taking care of them all on your own."

My mood falters a bit. I guess this man, whatever his agenda may be, must have dug everything about me before coming here. It's what rich people do, after all, and I'm not surprised anymore since Adrian did the same.

"Who says life is easy? Whether you have responsibilities or not, there's always something to make you sleepless at night from time to time. What's important is that we're together through thick and thin." I smile at him to express that we were okay despite the hardships.

He nods slowly, as though he's infusing my words into his brain. And then his lips stretch into a warm smile, and it feels like something pleasant has struck his mind.

"I can begin to tell why my son likes you," he mutters gently while pouring himself some water.

"Is that why you're here? To quench your curiosity on what type of a woman your son has been involved with?" I ask him, no pun intended.