Page 5 of His

And then it got worse.

The streets were busy with people going about their day, all of them oblivious to what was going on in my head. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I needed to calm down,to think rationally, but every time I tried, a new wave of anger rolled through me.

How could my dad have let this happen? How could he leave me alone like this? I couldn’t run the tailor shop on my own. He was the talented one; I was the one who poked herself with a needle more often than not. How was I supposed to pay the bills? Rent even? Where was I going to live?

A million questions swirled in my head, and I didn’t have answers for any of them.

I took a detour, deciding I needed to clear my head before going home. I didn’t want to face an empty apartment with nothing but my thoughts and a ticking clock for company. I wandered aimlessly, my pace slow and deliberate, almost daring someone to question my lack of direction just so I could confront them about it.

A group of tourists blocked the sidewalk, and I brushed past them, my irritation palpable. They glanced at me but quickly looked away. I knew I was giving off a vibe that screamed ‘don’t mess with me,’ or maybe it was resting bitch face, but I didn’t care.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, half expecting it to be Massimo, but it was just a message from my friend Alessia Romano asking about meeting up. I ignored it, not in the mood for idle chatter or pretending everything was okay.

As I walked past a small café, the smell of fresh coffee wafted out, mixing with the scent of baked goods. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything since the morning. I thought about stopping in, but the idea of sitting alone and stewing in my thoughts didn’t appeal to me either.

Ugh. What the fuck was I going to do?

I continued walking, each step feeling heavier than the last. My legs were starting to ache, and the afternoon sun was relentless as it beat down on me. I needed to go home, needed to figure out what to do next, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn back.

“Sofia,” a familiar voice called out behind me. At the sound of it, my heart leapt into my throat and a nervous twinge squeezed tight in my core.

I glanced back and saw Massimo striding toward me, his expression unreadable. My anger flared again, irrationally directed at him now. Why was he always so calm, so in control, when my world was falling apart?

“Sofia, wait,” he called out again, his voice carrying over the noise of the street.

I ignored him, picking up my pace. I didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want his reassurances or his plans or whatever he wanted to talk about. I wanted to be angry, to shout and scream and let out all the frustration that was building up inside me.

It didn’t take him long to catch up with me though.

He gently took my arm, firmly leading me in the direction of my father’s and my apartment. The moment his fingers touched my arm, a flare of fire tingled all the way to my heart. His grip was forceful but not harsh, and I felt a strange mix of comfort and frustration at his touch.

“It’s not safe for you to be wandering around right now,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning the street as we walked.

“And why is that?” I snapped, but I continued to walk beside him. It was almost like I wanted his company. Maybe I didn’t, but right now, it was a small comfort.

His silence was all the answer I needed. My heart skipped a beat, fear momentarily overshadowing my anger.

“Is this because of Papa?” I whispered.

Massimo’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know for sure, but I’m not taking any chances. You’re too important to me and your father.”

I felt a surge of conflicting emotions. I was angry at being treated like a child, but at the same time, I couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through me at his protectiveness. I looked down at the ground, noticing a crack in the sidewalk before I braved a look at him.

With a hard swallow, I glanced down at his arm. I’d imagined him touching me many times in the past, but not like this. His hazel eyes met mine, dark and stormy and way too seductive.

Sometimes, I liked to think about Massimo in a way that my dad definitely wouldn’t like. My thighs tensed as my gaze dropped to his lips. I’d always had a crush on him, but recently, it had become more than that.

What would it feel like if he kissed me, if he grazed those full lips down the length of my neck and further still? What if his fingers slid between my legs and touched me there? A visceral surge of pleasure shot straight down to my clit, and I almost yelped out loud at the intensity of it.

I caught myself before I glanced down any further toward his cock.

Get it together, Sofia. Massimo is practically your uncle. Shove this nonsense out of your head.

“Fine,” I muttered, too caught up in my own shame to argue any further. “I’ll go home.”

At my acquiescence, he released his hold on me and for a while, I missed it. We walked the rest of the way in silence, the rising tension between us palpable. When we finally reached my apartment, Massimo followed me inside, closing the door firmly behind him.

For some strange reason, it felt ominous.

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