DAUNTED BY THE DON

Sixteen |

"Oh look! The American awakens!" 

I turned to see Luigi standing in the kitchen with a plate of pasta. 

"She sure does," I muttered. 

He handed me a plate, "Eat, eat little American!"

As he spoke, the two split up so the couple could glare at me. My eyes rolled as I took my plate and trudged into the living room. I quickly spotted Lorenzo sitting in a Lazy boy, his feet up and Marcella sat on the chair's arm reading a book. 

"Hello," I said softly. 

They looked at me warmly. 

"Good to see you again Poppy," Lorenzo said with a wink. 

I nodded, "You both as well." 

"We should meet up soon," Marcella spoke, her words genuine, "Friends can be hard to come by, but I hope that's not the case. Lorenzo and I both look forward to making you feel as comfortable as possible." 

It made me feel guilty for using Lorenzo's name to piss Gabriele off. 

While he was handsome, I didn't make a habit of trying to fuck taken men.

"Thank you," I murmured, "For everything." 

I picked at my plate as Marcella talked about her work. I was extremely impressed; she got her degree at the University of Palma. Los Palma was a big enough city to have two main universities. There was a large city university of Palma, and then there was the smaller campus of Riverfeld University. Mia and I went to Riverfeld, Palma was so hard to get into and I'm sure Mia could have gotten in but not me. 

I was barely hanging onto my Riverfeld classes. 

"I did my bachelor of nursing then I switched and eventually did my doctrinal of psychology," she told me, "But I didn't figure out half my life until it was already happening." 

"How old are you?" I asked curiously. 

Lorenzo wheezed, "Y-you can't ask that!"

My eyes narrowed, "Yes, I can. You can't." 

"What? Why?" 

Marcella smirked, "Because you're of the male species. Such questions are forbidden."

"How is that fair?" 

"A long line of women being treated poorly, and you wish to ask why we don't want men asking trap questions that would act to diminish us and further eradicate what sense of self we cling to? Or would you rather just tell us whom and what to be?"  

His eyes widened a frightening size, "Oh amore mio, sai che non sminuirei mai la tua identità. Forgive me, my heart." 

Her cheeks heated as she glanced at him coldly. They had something special. Even if she didn't want to admit it half the time. It made my heart ache, and I wondered if I'd ever experience something as beautiful as they did. 

Lorenzo caught my gaze, "Don't look too jealous." 

I giggled, "I'd rather look like an idiot then be jealous of you."

Marcella chuckled at that, and I stood up. My plate was now empty, and I wanted to know what the hell was going on. As I moved towards the kitchen, I dropped off my plate into the sink before heading to the stairs. I'm pretty sure Gabriele's office was near the bedroom, so I just hoped he was there. Elena however, stood in front of me. 

"Vittore doesn't like people bothering him when he's on the phone."

I titled my head, "Is he in his office?"

"Obviously," she snapped. 

I gave her a sarcastic smile, "Then he can tell me that." 

Elbowing past her I climbed the steps to the second floor. I was certainly annoyed at her actions but as I got to the door and I could hear his fast, angry Italian through the thick wood, I wasn't so sure. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door without knocking. In my head, knocking when I was unwanted would only piss him off more. Then he'd have to get up, answer the door then yell at me but if I came in without knocking then we could skip the middle and just get to him yelling at me. 

So that's what I did. 

He paused, looking up from his desk. The room looked a lot like his other office, only this one seemed a lot busier. Not messy, just busy. Papers and shit everywhere along with files, file cabinets and so on. As I entered, his eyes narrowed, and I braced myself. 

"Antonio. Ciao."  

My eyes widened as he hung up. On my account?

"You look like a dead fish," he hummed, "Close the door."

I stumbled to do so, "I'm just surprised you're not yelling at me."

"I don't yell."

I looked back to him, my mouth growing dry as I watched him. No, he was right. He didn't yell. He stalked and growled. He calculated like a monster and could kill you before you even realized what was going on. Which is exactly what he did as he moved out of his chair and crossed the room. He towered over me, only an inch or so away. I had to tilt my head back considerately to meet his gaze. Fuck, he smelt good. Everything about him stole my attention and had my pussy wet for him. His fingers pulled gently at my hair, as if a child being entertained. 

"What do you want Topolina?"  

I blinked a few times and he smirked. 

"Or have you come to beg for my cock?"

Why did I come here? It all seemed pointless now. I wanted to know what was going on but I also knew his answer wasn't changing. He wouldn't tell me shit so why was I here? I knew why; I wanted him. I wanted to find the release that he'd dangled in front of me. Damn it, just this once I wanted to let him win. I'd never hear the end of it but who cared. I didn't--not right now. My tongue ran against my lips carefully. 

"Alright," I replied with a smirk, "Fine. I want you." 

He took a small step back, crossing his arms over his chest, "Mhm."

"What now you don't want to fuck?"

"No. I don't believe you Topolina."

My brow arched, "You don't believe what?" 

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to my ear, "Convince me."