Page 76 of King Of Order

Bellissima.

Raking my eyes over her from head to toe, I raised my beer in the air in a silent welcome toast.

She didn’t react except to jerk her chin at me.

I took another drag and leaned back to blow smoke at the stars.

Need thrummed through me, soul churning, my entire body pulsing.

Without breaking the silence, she slowly slid off her robe, revealing a simple black swimsuit that clung to her curves.

She approached the edge of the pool, her movements fluid and enticing. With a smirk on her lips, well aware what she was doing, to me.

She dove in with a quiet splash, the water folding around her.

Eyes sliced to her as she swam, cutting through with long, graceful strokes.

The sound of her swimming, rhythmic and soothing, filled the air. There was something almost hypnotic about it, the way she moved with such ease and grace.

My gaze locked on her, unable to look away.

After a few laps, she surfaced, moisture glistening off her skin as she pulled herself out of the pool.

She didn’t dry off right away, letting the droplets slide down her body as she walked over to where I sat.

Wordlessly, she took the cheroot from my hand, brought it to her lips, and inhaled.

The smoke curled out as she exhaled, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she returned the slim cigar.

The faint scent of the sea was in the warm air, a light breeze carrying the sound of rustling leaves from the garden.

The horizon stretched into darkness, the sky painted in deep shades of indigo and purple, with only a few scattered stars piercing through.

Her presence was a quiet force, something that didn’t demand but simply was, and for some reason, that silence between us said more than any words.

We both sat, listening to the soft lap of water against the pool’s edge, the world beyond the yard fading away.

I had an inkling about why she was lingering, and I mulled what I was certain was about to happen.

She had no idea who I was or that I was informed of her past life.

She appeared well-adjusted, fit, and self-aware, so it took some effort to remind myself she’d once been dependent on substances at one point.

She had a few years of sobriety under her belt, which meant she was following an effective recovery program.

There was no evidence of drugs in her home, and my intel on her was that she’d stayed clean for years now.

Chiara ate healthy, came across as balanced, and was keen to improve herself.

She practiced meditation and yoga and appeared eager not to let her past challenges define her even though her family kept trying to drown her in their shit.

Regardless, whatever ensued, I had to keep my heart from getting caught up in her aura.

Still,i frutti proibiti sono i più dolci.Forbidden fruit was always the sweetest.

So when she turned to me, stared into my eyes, tilted her head, and asked a silent question, I got the memo.

I set aside the butt of the glowing cigar in the ashtray. Beer bottle on the floor.

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