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"I look forward to eating your food, Aryana."
I wished he would call me his treasure again, but I wouldn’t say that out loud.
He stood up and made his way to the exit. At the same time, I walked over to the fridge and started scanning what was inside, slightly surprised that the fridge was still somewhat full. Was there any fridge around that I didn't know of?
"Aryana."
I whirled to see Alexander starting by the door at the sound of my name.
"Yeah?"
"Are you sure I didn't go too hard on you?"
I snorted and rolled my eyes playfully. While his voice contained a bit of concern, I could see the small smirk hanging off the corner of his lips.
"I barely felt anything." I fibbed, not wanting to add to his ego.
"Your moans said otherwise."
I turned my head to the other side, not wanting to allow Alexander to gloat on seeing my face explode in color. Still, I guessed it was pointless because I heard him chuckle at my action.
"That's good. Wouldn't want anything to go wrong with your pregnancy."
Oh. My mood plummeted. I looked up in time to see Alexander shoot me a small smile.
"Thank you." And with that, he left my sight.
And like that, the positive emotions I had been feeling dissipated.
It wasn't me he cared about. He only cared about his child.
Chapter 16
Alexander
Eversincethedaywe gave in to our urges three weeks ago, with Aryana comforting me about my father the following morning, the distance between us had reduced. We spoke and laughed more, though I caught Aryana looking hesitant a few times. What she was conflicted about, I didn’t know, but I didn’t want to question it.
Another thing to note about the progress of our relationship was how we flirted with each other. It seemed there was no point in hiding how much we desired each other. Now, there were lingering touches anytime we touched and meaningful gazes each time our eyes met.
There was no doubt that I had fallen for Aryana. I was falling deeper and deeper for her, but I was still unsure if it could be called love. After all, I had never been in love before. The only love I’ve ever experienced was my love for my father and my twoFratelli, Tony, and Marcello, but it was different. My love for my father differed from my love for Tony and Marcello.
In the same way, what I felt for Aryana was different. What I could say with the utmost confidence was that I had never felt such strong emotions for another woman. Aryana was the first.
The strangest part was that I was not averse to feeling such emotions. Before, I had looked down on such feelings, believing they were unnecessary and a hindrance in my work, but looking at Aryana, it didn’t feel like a burden.
I was in the kitchen, whipping up some food for us in the afternoon, when Aryana walked in. There was no greeting, but there was no need for it as she lightly trailed her hand up my arm and walked around me to sit on the stool beside the counter.
“What are you cooking?”
I held up a packet of pasta in response.
“Your specialty then?" She joked with a teasing smile on her face.
I shot her an amused smile. "Because I’m Italian? How cliché of you."
She shrugged, not looking repentant.
She watched me cook for a while, stirring the pasta in one pot while working on the sauce in another.
