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“Oh. Okay.” She takes a bite of her sandwich, her gaze never leaving me. As she chews, she narrows her eyes as if she’s judging me. “Will you yell at me?”
“No. Why would I do that?”
“Simona always yells at me.” She shrugs. “When Dad’s not around that is. He doesn’t allow yelling.”
She calls her mother by her first name? I’m still trying to process that fact and the implications it carries when the door opens. Luca steps inside, carrying a tray with a sandwich on aplate and a glass of milk. He halts in the doorway, zeroing in on the sandwich in Rosa’s hand.
“Isabella beat you to it,” Rosa says between bites and points her finger at me.
“Okay, I’ll be going now.” I stand up and head toward the door. “Good night, Rosa.”
Luca doesn’t move from the doorway where he’s glaring at me like a hawk. I look up and meet his gaze, and our eyes lock in silence for several long heartbeats until he finally steps aside. Making sure my movements are deliberately slow, I tread down the hallway until I reach my room. Something, call it intuition, tells me he’s still watching me as I slip inside my room without looking back.
The moment the door closes behind me I exhale and lean my back against it. I thought it would be easy to pretend I’m indifferent, but I have a feeling that a single kind act on my part will result in him pulling away even more. I can’t risk it. Not yet.
Being so close to Luca after all these years and knowing he doesn’t want anything to do with me... hurts. In a way, it was easier when I knew I didn’t have a chance. I never expected anything. And now, when I finally have him so close, it feels like he’s even farther away than he was before.
I close my eyes and remember the day of my eighteenth birthday when he called me tesoro. Apparently, the word didn’t really carry the affection I imagined. It was just a word said in passing. Yet, I thought about that moment and his light touch on my hair for days after it happened.
Well, I’m not giving up. He better prepare for war, because that’s what I’m going to serve him. I will fight him and his indifference, every step of the way.
“You better be ready, Luca Rossi,” I whisper to the empty room, “because all’s fair in love and war.”
Chapter 5
I throw my jacket onto one of the recliners in my room and sit down on the edge of the bed, listening to Donato’s mumbling coming from the phone. There have been some problems with one of the properties we bought and I spent last night and the whole of today in my office downtown, trying to get that shit sorted out. I really don’t need another fuckup today.
“Oh, for the love of God, Donato. Can’t you deal with at least some of the shit by yourself?” I say into the phone, squeezing the bridge of my nose. “How many crates?”
“The truck just came in. We opened the first few, but it's likely several more are the same, Luca.”
“Fuck.” I close my eyes in frustration. What the hell am I going to do with a whole fucking shipment of the wrong caliber ammunition?
A low, moaning sound reaches me from the direction of Isabella’s room and I look up, staring at the door connecting our rooms. I haven’t seen her after yesterday evening when I found her in Rosa’s room. She brought my daughter dinner. I’m not sure what to think about that. Or about the fact that I’ve been thinking about her the whole day. Fuck. I need to tell Viola to move her things back to the room across from Rosa’s.
“What should I tell the Romanians?” Donato asks, pulling me away from thinking about my young wife.
“Call Bogdan. Tell him I’m expecting him at the warehouse at eight tomorrow morning.”
“What if he says he can’t come?”
“Then, I will come to him and personally put each and every fucking bullet up his ass. Tell him that.” I throw the phone onto the bed. Damn Romanians.
I cross my bedroom, heading toward the bathroom, but stop in front of the connecting door to the room where Isabella is sleeping. There it is again, another quiet moan like the one I thought I heard a few moments ago. I inch closer to the door, wondering if something’s wrong, but there’s only silence from the other side. The door handle feels cool when I grasp it and open the door as quietly as possible, taking a peek inside.
At first, I think Isabella must be unwell, because the only thing I can see through the darkness is her body on the bed, twisted slightly to the side. I open the door a bit more and some of the light from my room spills inside, allowing me to see her more clearly. The moment I do, my hand tightens on the handle.
Isabella lifts her head off the pillow and looks directly at me while her hand keeps moving inside her silky pajama pants, right between her legs. I watch, mesmerized, as she lifts her ass up and a moan escapes her lips. My breaths quicken and I feel myself getting hard as she opens her legs wider and slides her other hand under the waistband. I should turn around and shut the door in my wake, but I can't make myself leave. I’m glued to the sight of my teenage wife as she pleasures herself, her eyes fixed on me the whole time. She lifts her pelvis again and starts panting, her lips partially open. I grip the doorjamb with my other hand when she arches her body and throws back her head as tremors shake her frame. It lasts a few seconds before she sags down onto the bed. She exhales slowly, removes her hands frominside of her pants, and flashes her eyes at me one more time as she slides under the blanket.
I stare at her for some time, then turn around and bang the door closed.
“Good morning,” I smile at Rosa and Damian as I sit down at the dining table where coffee has already been served.
“You seem to be cheerful today. Any particular reason?” Damian asks and reaches for his coffee.
Of course I am, and there’s a very specific reason. Every time I think about the shocked look on my husband’s face when he opened the door and saw me playing with my pussy, a smile pulls at my lips. Yes, he went back to his room and banged the door after him, but based on the way he gripped the doorway while he watched, we’re off to a good start.
“No reason.” I nod toward the empty chair on my left. “Where’s Luca?”
