Cristiano's Craving

Fifty

Rose

The man seemed relaxed as he strolled around the kitchen, picking up an apple and throwing it upwards into the air before catching it and taking a large bite with that 'crunch' noise from the movies.

After that one bite, he tossed it into the bin as if he didn't like it. Then he leaned against the fridge, his arms folded and a loud sigh coming from him with his eyes closed. He looked exhausted.

My sweaty hands fidgeted around with each other as I didn't know what to do. I was stuck, alone in a room with Cristiano's brother - the brother he betrayed and had not seen for years.

Then his hazel eyes opened and landed on me.

My breath hitched and I straightened my posture, swallowing roughly and nervously.

His eyes ran down my body, making me feel self conscious, and moved back upwards to my eyes.

"What happened to you?"

His voice was as deep as his brother's and filled with powerful ness. I licked my lips, my eyes averting to my hands. "I. . .I um. . ." I didn't know what to say or how to explain everything but thankfully, Cris entered the room, wearing a shirt and hiding away his attractive abs.

I blinked up at him, my heart thumping against my chest as he sat on the stool beside me.

"So, you stole the mafia's money and spent it on an old ass boxing ring and a rustic loft? Oh, and you brought yourself a prostitute and hit her?"

Cristiano stood abruptly to defend as I gasped, my eyebrows narrowing at him in offence. "I am not a prostitute!" I snapped before Cris could say anything, beginning to get angrier and angrier by the second.

I pulled his arm and he sat back down, glaring at his brother. "I wouldn't hurt a hair on her."

"Sorry," Vincenzo said to me, his tone sincerely apologetic and I murmured, "it's okay," sensing his seriousness.

"But if you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

My lips parted but I didn't even know what to say. No words came out.

"She's my ex," Cristiano muttered before quickly changing the subject by saying, "I think before you judge me, little brother, you should hear the whole story."

Vincenzo scoffed, snorting in disbelief. "The whole story? I don't give a fuck. You're nothing, you pathetic bastard. You stole money just to run away from your petty problems."

Cristiano stood, glaring hard at him and leaning forwards in anger. "Don't fucking talk to me like that. I know what I did was wrong but-"

"But what?" Vincenzo interrupted impatiently, coming off the fridge and standing face to face to his brother. They were the same height and both intimidatingly glared directly at each other.

"Let me guess," Cris sarcastically said, "you're the mafia King."

Vincenzo chuckled. "Yeah. I did a better job that you would've."

"So, what the fuck are you here for?" He snapped, his hand curling into a fist by his side and my eyes widened, knowing that if one more button was pushed, he would snap.

"Both of you stop it!" I snapped, coming off my chair and storming towards them, pushing their hard chests apart with all of my energy. Both of them were buff and I struggled to push them far so they only went a few centimetres away.

"You can't get anything solved if you're arguing like five year olds. You're just as petty as each other, no wonder you're brothers!"

"He is not my brother," Vincenzo snapped, his eyes shooting daggers at Cristiano who scoffed.