AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shift Clara to my hip as I slide the strap of my bookbag off my shoulder and deposit it on the floor. Then I head to the kitchen to give Aunt Patritsiya a kiss on the cheek as she washes her hands in the sink.
“How was your day?” she asks, her accent relaxing me as she sounds like home.
“Fine,” I say simply. I still haven’t told her about any of the conflicts between Nicolo and me. I don’t want to worry her.
Aunt Patritsiya turns off the sink and dries her hands on her apron as I stroke Clara’s dark curls and hold her close to me. Patritsiya’s eyes study my face intently.
“You look stressed,” she observes gently.
I shrug it off and press one more kiss to Clara’s head before setting her down. “School’s just hard, but it’s very rewarding,” I say casually as I step up to wash my hands at the sink. “What were you thinking for dinner?” I ask, changing the subject as subtly as I can. But I know in the back of my mind that I can’t keep running from my Nicolo problem. I’m scared to imagine what he might do next.
16
NICOLO
Islump in my chair, arms folded, scowling toward the front of my econ class, not taking in a word the professor says. If I glare long enough, I just might burn a hole in the podium up front.
“What’s got you all moody?” Dom asks beside me, shoving me lightly with his elbow.
“Shitty weekend,” I growl. That’s a vast understatement.
Since Anya and I had our last confrontation, where she basically told me I’m all bark and no bite, I haven’t been able to get a wink of sleep. The girl’s stubborn resistance is really starting to piss me off. And since that afternoon, she’s continued on with her life like she’s put me in my place, ignoring me and my attempts to fuck with her like I’m no more inconvenient than a fly. I can’t let that shit stand. I’m the son of Lorenzo Marchetti, for fuck’s sake. If I’m going to take up my father’s mantle and be the next don, I need to know how to draw the line. I might as well start practicing now, when pussy is the biggest thing on the line.
“I want you boys to do something for me,” I growl, turning to face them without uncrossing my arms.
“Sure, boss. What’s up?” Jay asks, always the enthusiastic one to follow orders.
“Fin Tanaka, the Asian kid we see with Anya around campus, her dance partner–”
“He’s Japanese,” Dom says casually.
I stop to stare at him until he realizes he interrupted me.
“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Just saying.”
“I want you to go to the dance building after class. He and Anya practice there for about an hour. Wait for him outside the class, and when he leaves, get him alone in the bathroom just down the hall.”I’ll distract Anya while they’re doing that, and who knows?Maybe hell will freeze over, and she’ll decide to give it up to me before I have to teach her a lesson through her dance partner.
“Sounds like a fun afternoon,” Jay quips, a smile spreading across his face.
Dom only pauses for a moment before he nods, silently agreeing to get it done.
“Good.” I turn my attention back to class, my bad mood considerably better now that I’m going to make Anya truly regret turning me down and saying I have no follow-through.
Despite my resolve, the clock only seems to slow to a crawl. Getting to the end of classes might as well have taken a lifetime. As I open the door to the dance studio to catch the end of Anya’s practice, I feel like a taut wire about to snap. I can’t wait to get my hands on Anya’s partner. I’ve got enough built-up frustration that I’m ready to send athoroughmessage.
Anya’s professor ignores me, as usual. I only wonder with vague interest if that’s because he has too many students to notice an extra observer in the room or if he knows who I am and that it’s in his best interest to shut the fuck up and let me do what I want to do. I would put money on the latter.
I have to admit, Anya and her partner’s dance is starting to look really good. I can tell they’re making progress as they string longer sections of their performance together, practicing the transitions. Watching the way her body moves brings me a sense of calm I haven’t felt for days otherwise.
But every time her partner puts his hands on her–grasping her hips, supporting her waist, even holding her hand as she spins–I see red. I can’t wait to put my plan into action. Anya’s apparent determination to ignore me completely, not even meeting my eyes in the mirror when she knows I’m watching her, further escalates my ire. The little tease is going to regret that she ever went toe to toe with me. She doesn’t fully grasp just how horrible I can make her life. Up until now, our games have been child’s play. But no more.
When their practice comes to an end, Fin goes to collect his things first, as usual. He glances my way, and when our eyes meet briefly, he trains his eyes on the floor. Then he scuttles from the room as quickly as possible.That’sthe kind of response I’m supposed to invoke. Something is clearly wrong with Anya that she can’t make sense of that one. I don’t care if something is wrong with her. She’s teased me for so long, I refused to give up until I’ve had her.
Anya approaches her cubby of personal items, and I step close to her so I can murmur without having others overhear.
“So, have you had enough time to reconsider my offer?” I keep my tone smooth and playful to show her rejection the other day couldn’t bother me.
Anya flashes me a frigid look that plainly tells me to fuck off, but she doesn’t say a word.
