Diavolo

iii

PRESLEY

It'd been silent for the past hour in the car. He'd somehow managed to convince the McDonald's workers into creating chicken nuggets out of nowhere though they'd ran out earlier.

I'd chowed down the six-piece chicken nugget meal along with large fries and the milkshake, and now I was eyeing the second McDonald's bag he'd placed beside the gear.

I didn't know if he was planning on finishing it but something inside me told me Silvio Rossi wasn't a McDonald's fan.

Out of nowhere, he caught my curious gaze in the car mirror and reached over to place the heavy McDonald's bag in my lap.

I tried not to notice the flash of golden skin exposed from the tiny move, and the inky tattoos. Just as quickly, I'd averted my eyes away.

Octavius and the rest of the guys always had tattoos every single place where there was any skin possible—I never understood the idea of getting a tattoo because I had a low pain tolerance but I had to admit, it was rather attractive.

A deep grunt escaped his mouth as he continued driving almost like it pained him to speak to me. I guess we were back to silence with each other. "It's for you." He told me, never sparing me a glance. "I didn't know how much you wanted, so I bought extra in case."

"Oh, thank you." I murmured softly, glancing over to the driver's seat and craned my head slightly to stare at him.

This man was somewhat of an enigma. I didn't understand why he cared about my hunger or why he offered me a ride. The Silvio Rossi I knew in the beginning of my friendship with Finley would have never cared about what the hell I wanted.

He avoided me in every single aspect; If we were seated beside each other at an event, he would either switch seats with Beast or completely move to another seat. And now, he was here, driving me around to McDonalds and ordering me chicken nugget meals.

Bizarre.

I thought he wouldn't have responded to my words of appreciation but I was a bit surprised when he muttered in a low voice, "You're welcome, Ms. Carmichael."

Oh. We were back to that now, weren't we?

I didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride, only quietly chewed on my chicken nuggets and took interest in the road signs, acting like they were the most interesting things I had ever laid my eyes upon.

Every few minutes, my gaze would coast over to Silvio who wouldn't even pay me a glance though I knew he could probably feel my glare on him. I wanted to know what he was thinking.

He pulled into the underground parking garage of my loft-style apartment, killing the engine with a twist of his finger, and finally for the first time since we'd started driving back, he gave him his full and undivided attention.

The moonlight reflected through his beautiful face, the soft pools of hazel in his eyes appeared more purple and brilliant. "Have a good night, Ms. Carmichael."

"And you too, Mr. Rossi." I responded, the harsh tone beneath my voice at how dismissing he spoke to me. A muscle ticked in his jaw when I'd used his last name once again to address him.

I had a feeling he didn't like the formality because of how distant it sounded. Almost like we didn't know each other but when a man pretended not to acknowledge your existence for about two years, it came back in the form of a petty ass woman with the name of Presley Carmichael.