Diavolo

xiv

PRESLEY

        Remember how I'd said karma had a twisted sense of mind, and the bitch knew how to get you. Once she had her hands locked around your throat, she tightened it, squeezed until you eventually fell into her trap.

        I knew that there was something wrong the minute we'd started the game of truth or drink earlier tonight but I'd played it off.

        We'd been in the car for a couple of minutes, driving towards the direction of the apartment and it was eerily silent.

I was still drunk a bit and woozy from the wine I'd had, trying to achieve a state of sobriety and he was... well, Silvio. Quiet, brooding and gorgeous as always.

       A gloved hand remained on the wheel and another was on his phone, his fingers rapidly moving across the screen but his eyes remained on the road. It was strangely skilled and attractive.

A thin cigarette rested on the edge of his mouth, the thick line of smoke dancing through the gap in the window

        The soft wind blew through my face, caressing the skin of my neck and left me a bit more settled and less flushed than I'd been earlier.

I kept my eyes straight ahead on the road, didn't bother to even check my phone for any missed texts or called like I would normally. Everything that unraveled tonight felt like the icing on the cake, it felt like something was going to happen.

The tight role bound around my waist to Silvio tightened, tugged and pulled and with every refusal to give up to the pull, it twisted even tighter.

I turned slightly to glance at him from the side of my eye, trying to be as discreet as possible and he wasn't even looking at me.

        Usually, his eyes never seemed to linger farther away from me with each remark we passed between each other.

And now, I felt cold like depending on the heat of his gaze was enough warmth to burn my insides in the middle of December. "I have a question," I murmured quietly, almost too soft because I'd thought he didn't hear me.

        He did. "Hm?" His husky voice responded in this drugging, drawl of his. And once again, he wasn't giving me those beautiful olive-green eyes.

        He kept his eyes and focus ahead and usually I'd be thankful because who wanted to die? But today, I wanted those eyes.

        Regardless I spoke. "It says you don't exist on Google." When I landed, I planned to ask Octavius about the goggle search and why nothing was appearing but I'd already known the answer myself.

Perhaps I wanted to confirm a truth I'd been trying to ignore. 

        His throat tightened and I watched his Adam's apple bobbing, the masculine action sending a shock through my legs. "Is there a question there, Presley?" He knew. He knew where I was going.

       "You have tattoos." I began, and this time, he shifted his gaze slightly to meet my eyes. The clear look of desire and freed longing cut through my skin and left me speechless. I was at a loss for words.