Page 40 of Fatal Sloth

Watching them together, sharing some stupid joke or whatever, only fuels the fire of irritation burning within me. Gritting my teeth, I force myself to maintain a neutral expression as I approach them. The last thing I need is to let Nico see how much he's getting under my skin. But inside, I'm seething, counting down the seconds for this prick to leave, which is always right after I walk into the room.

“Hey, Cuz,” the bastard says. I give him a single nod, but I'm not gonna entertain his shit.

“Looks like I should get going. Thanks for today, Mia.”

“No need to thank me. It was good to have you come along,” Mia replies.

What the fuck did I miss today, and why does it feel like I’m a guest in my own fucking house?

Turning to look at la piccola ballerina, who looks as good as she always does, she meets my gaze with a smile on her face. But all I can picture is her naked and moaning on the gym floor yesterday while I ate her pussy.

“What the fuck did I miss today? Seems like you two are best friends now.” I can't help the bitter tone, but this shit annoys the hell out of me. Maybe I'm bitter because of the blue balls I've had all week, or maybe it's the fucked-up night that's still replaying in my mind.

"We're not best friends," she says playfully, slapping my bicep. "We ran into each other at Padrino’s this afternoon."

My jaw tightens as I wait for her to continue, questions flooding my mind about how her so-called run-in with him ended with him being here.

As if she can read my inner turmoil, she continues. "Originally, I ordered a pickup, but he asked that I stay and join him, so I did," she explains. "Then he tagged along while I ran a few errands."

The fire inside me rages with each word that spills from her plush pink lips. Why the hell is she gallivanting all over town without any damn guards, with only Nico? And I call bullshit on the idea that she just happened to run into that prick by chance at Padrino’s.

The urge to lash out and confront her about her reckless behavior is coming close to erupting, but I swallow it down and, in the gentlest way I can, ask, “Did you go out alone? No guards? You know the rules. And what errands do you have to do?” I bark, firing off question after question before she can even answer the first one.

But she’s ready for me when her response floods out. “Not alone. Yusuf drove, and Daren was there, too. Yes, I know the rules—please refer back to answers one and two. And I’ll show you,” she says, putting one hand on her hip with a shy smirk on her lips.

She’s being a smartass with that sass, but I'm impressed and a little turned on by her response. I'm happier that she had my men with her. Adding a mental reminder to speak to those two fuckers later on.

“Show me?” I ask, feeling my dick punch my zipper at the thought of what she has to show me. Hopefully, it’s seeing her naked. Images of her underneath me flood my mind.

She breaks the dirty thoughts in my mind as her tiny hand clasps into my large one, leading me outside to the garden. "Yes, I'll show you. Let's go."

We walk out into the gardens, still hand in hand, confused and curious about this whole situation. It feels intimate, but I think I like it. I’ve never been one for holding hands or any type of romantic shit, but this isn’t so bad.

We make our way further out into the center of the garden, and I stop dead in my tracks, tugging her arm slightly at my abrupt pause.

Mia notices my hesitation and turns to me. “It was such a beautiful day today. I thought we could have dinner out here.” The smile she gives me almost warms my cold, dead heart. She gestures to the small table set up with two place settings and a vase of freshly cut flowers in the center.

“While eating lunch at Padrino’s, Nico mentioned that you didn’t like the food there. That you would only eat from Marcos.”

She did this for me? Well, damn!

Sensing my surprise, la piccola ballerina continues speaking. “I’ve never eaten there, and since it was your favorite, and I knew you'd be awake for dinner, I placed an order and gave Marie and Roman the night off. They seem like they could use a night off. I hope that's ok?” she asks.

Damn! She leaves me speechless, so I simply nod in acknowledgment as I observe the scene before me.

It still doesn’t explain her errands, but I'll let that slide for now and take my seat. She hands me a bottle of wine and jumps up quickly. “The food just got here, but I placed it in the oven so it would stay warm. If you can open the wine, I’ll go grab the food." She doesn't give me a chance to respond before she takes off toward the house. Mia is back seconds later with a large paper bag in her hands.

Did she run? She’s fast!

There’s a breeze in the air, the smell of flowers drifting around us until Mia starts pulling out the containers of food. Then I'm hit with the scent of garlic and tomatoes as she opens the first container containing my favorite appetizer. She places two warm slices of grilled bread on my plate before spooning the bruschetta mixture on top.

Opening another container, she plates the Gnocchi alla Romana with saltimbocca. My mouth salivates at the dish before me as I pour both of us a glass of wine.

Did Nico tell her my favorites? I’m not even sure he would know what they are.

La piccola ballerina plates a small portion on her plate. Her portion isn't large, especially not like mine, but it's definitely bigger than the portions from before.

Mia doesn't hesitate to dig in, letting out a small moan of approval when the gnocchi hits her mouth.

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