O Juliet, Juliet, wherefore art thou Juliet?
Or whatever the fuck Shakespeare said. How did the tale of Romeo and Juliet end? Oh, right. Death for both lovers. That wouldn’t be our ending. Reaching over with my clean hand, I grabbed my glasses from the bed and slid them back onto my face.
The world immediately sharpened into focus. Unfortunately, so did the mess I'd made of myself. I glanced down at my stomach and groaned.
"Fucking Juliet."
The damp towel I'd set aside earlier was still on the nightstand. Grabbing it, I began wiping myself off. Halfway through, I realized it was a lost cause. There was too much cum. The thought made me smile despite myself.
Shaking my head, I gathered up both towels and headed toward the bathroom. I threw those towels into the hamper and grabbed two more before turning the water on. A few minutes later, I'd cleaned myself up and washed my hands.
I pushed away from the counter and headed back into the bedroom. I opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of black boxers. After stepping into them, I grabbed a pair of gray jogging pants and tugged those on as well.
Sleep wasn't happening tonight. My mind was all over the place right now.Two weeks.She’d said she may be unavailable for two weeks due to an issue at work. I didn’t even know what she did for a living.
I assumed it involved computers, given her penchant for hacking. But I wasn’t certain. She could be a doctor, a lawyer... a... a... hell, she could be anything. I knew absolutely nothing about the woman I was obsessed with.
Other than the fact that she was sexy as hell, and she could make me cum with just a few words. But other than that, I knew nothing about her. Yet, I was certain she knew a lot about me.
Most of it was information I’d given her. During our conversations, we talked mostly about me. I shook my head. I was a fucking idiot. Of course, we talked mostly about me, because her little ass was trying to conceal as much of her true identity as possible.
Yet, my dumb ass had been quick to tell her shit like my favorite coffee, favorite snack, and favorite pastime. And her sly ass simply agreed with whatever I said, saying shit like,“Yeah, I like that too.”
Picking my laptop up off the bed, I checked to make sure it didn’t have any cum on it, then I carried it to my office, where half-packed boxes lined the walls. There were still a few things I needed to pack up and ship home.
Setting the laptop on the desk, I lowered myself into the chair and opened it. The screen glowed to life. For a moment, I simply stared at it. I didn’t even know where to begin. I guess I could start with what I did know about my mystery woman.
Juliet knew my name, how I looked. She knew I was a Cattaneo, which meant she probably knew how dangerous my family was. Yet, she was brave enough to hack into my devices anyway.
And she’d done it remotely, because I doubt she’d come to Italy to hack me. Though we hadn’t discussed it, I knew that she knew I was in Italy because of our meeting times. She always met me during my lunch hour.
But my lunch hour wouldn’t be her lunch hour, because I was convinced she was from the Southern USA. The voice modulator prevented me from hearing her accent. But I recognized her southern slang.
Yet I didn’t know which state in the South she was from. There was also the possibility that she was using certain words to throw me off, to make me think she was from a certain region.
So basically, I had nothing to go on. No. That wasn't entirely true. I knew she was smart. Knew she was patient. Knew she understood technology better than most people I'd met. Knew she worked odd hours.
Knew she was comfortable talking to dangerous men. And I knew she'd been studying me for months. How else would she know what time my lunch was? It wasn't much. But it was a start.
Who the hell was I kidding? I had nothing. Absolutely nothing. I leaned back in my seat and stared up at the ceiling. I had a feeling my Juliet didn’t want to be found. But I had to find her.
I had to know what she wanted from me. I had to know what all she knew about me and why she was interested in me. She’dstepped into my world for a reason. Good or bad, I had to know what that reason was.
And while I wanted this woman fiercely... I wasn’t my father. I wouldn’t force her to be with me if that wasn’t what she wanted. But I would find her, and I’d find out why she approached me.
If she was sincere, if she really wanted me and was just nervous or shy, I’d give her time to get to know me. The real me. But if she was playing with me, if she was leading me on, fucking with me, I would make her regret the day she sat down in front of her laptop and typed in the name Rome Cattaneo.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ROME
––––––––
I stayed up for hours, staring at my computer screen, trying to piece together what I knew about Juliet. Only to end up going to bed feeling frustrated and foolish. Even while lying in bed, I stayed awake for a long time, replaying every conversation we'd had.
We'd been talking for months, and I was no closer to finding her than I had been the first time she hacked me. Yet somehow, she'd progressed from poking around my systems to accessing my microphone and camera.
She was getting bolder. And I was letting her. That had to end. I'd spent months reacting to her. Blocking her. Patching vulnerabilities she'd exploited. Playing defense while she did whatever the hell she wanted.
