| 18+ |
A grieving student-detective and her bilingual Italian heir.
𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐲 - She is a hard-working college student studying to become a detective after her mother's unexpected death. The cops labeled it a suicide, but she knew be...
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"You're snoring, sweetheart."
His low and rather raspy voice woke me up.
My eyelids fluttered open and adjusted to the bright light shining in from the large window. A chuckle brimmed my ears as it came from someone close to me. Someone really close.
"Baby, you need to get up."
My vision faded in and the first thing I saw was him. Our bodies linking, arms cradling one another, and my head buried under his chin. The smell of cologne invades my nose with its enlightening aura. If I wasn't being pushed to wake up I would fall right back asleep in this big teddy bear's hold.
"Tell me in Spanish or Italian and maybe I will." I slurred, my lids becoming heavy again. He laughed at my attempt to hear his native language and sighed with what I expected to be a smile after. Without warning, I felt a strong hand reach around my face gently and force me to look up.
The view from before changed to Mateo grinning at me, those dimples I never usually talk about- showing attractively.
"Despiértate por mí, vale hermosa?" The words rolled off his tongue and danced into my ears as I repeated the sentence over and over in my mind. It sounded soothing, definitely better than the other times I've heard him speak in Spanish. But I'm pretty sure he was cursing me out or calling me names then.
(Wake up for me, okay beautiful?) - Spanish Translation.
"Alrighttt, I'm awake."
I moved my head from his grasp.
"Now please fill me in on why you are so urgent to get me out of your bed, Romano?" I said in a playful tone, putting a smirk on his face. The facial expression made butterflies jump in my stomach, that bubbly feeling swimming in waves. "Because unfortunately...we both of things we need to take care of today, so come on"
He removed me from his torso and laid me down on the opposite side of the bed, placing my head softly on the cotton-like pillow. A smile brewed across my lips from the simple gesture. Swinging his legs over the mattress and onto the frigid floor, he grabbed the pair of glasses on the nightstand. Causing my brow to rise with wonder. Why did he need prescription lenses when he barely even wore them?
"Why exactly do you need those?"
"To read, loca." He said as he picked up a sheet on top of his drawer, the paper inked with words and paragraphs of information. That must be the work planned for him to do today. Sucks to suck, am I right? While he does whatever the hell Dante has in store, I get to just go back to my office and do nothing other than investigate this Ashford matter in secret.
Which I'm hoping nobody finds out about since I would most likely die from betraying a Mafia family. But I would rather betray these people than a family related to my best friend. She's much scarier and also fragile when it comes to stuff like that.
