Page 57 of The Deal

I sit in my usual spot opposite her and observe her large eyes continuously flick towards the door where Carmella usually enters. I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. “Relax. If Carmella says anything to upset you, I’ll fire her on the spot.”

Her pretty whisky-coloured eyes widen further. “You wouldn’t do that … would you?”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to defend your honour, Chloe.”

Chapter 21

Chloe

My eyes meet Carmella’s the moment she enters the dining room, and although I can feel my cheeks heat, I give her a look that hopefully conveys how sorry I am for the mess of clothes she walked into this morning.

The smile she gives me in return is tight; she’s definitely not withholding judgement.

I’m in no way ashamed of what Alexander and I did, like he said, we are two consenting adults. However, I am embarrassed that she found the remnants of our fuckfest. Being raised as that good little Italian Catholic girl, I never would’ve considered sex before marriage, but I gave up those beliefs—and some may say, my moral compass—when my mother left.

She ended up being the biggest hypocrite, so I quickly dismissed everything I’d been taught about growing up to be a wholesome lady. I wanted no part of it, or her.

Carmella rests the tray she is carrying on the edge of the table and places two steaming cups of cappuccino down in front of us. I need that drink more than I do my next breath.

Every muscle in my body aches—muscles I didn’t even know I had—but the pain and suffering I’ll be feeling todayis most definitely worth it. Mr Mancini and that fabulous big dick of his did not disappoint.

“The food won’t be long. I’m making bacon, eggs, mushrooms, and fried tomato. I figured you both might need something a bit heartier this morning.” She doesn’t make eye contact with either of us as she speaks. When I glance at Alexander and wince, the fool bloody grins. He finds joy in the most ridiculous things. “I also took it upon myself to sanitise every inch of the table before you came down.”

That little admission has Alexander rolling his lips to hide his smile, so I kick him under the table. Carmella places the sugar bowl down in the centre, and before she picks up the tray, I watch on in horror as she makes the sign of the cross and mutters something in Italian, too quiet for me to catch.

As soon as she scurries out of the room, I bury my face in my hands. Alexander, on the other hand, leans back in his chair and bursts out laughing.

After we finished a very awkward breakfast, we headed into one of the lounge rooms. Alexander offered to take me back upstairs to bed, but my lady parts needed a timeout, so this was the safer option.

He is sitting at the far end of the incredibly comfortable sofa, with my head on his lap. He’s typing away on his phone with one hand while the fingertips on the other massage my scalp. It feels divine, and I’m just about to doze off when Marco suddenly bursts into the room. I feel Alexander’s body stiffen the moment he enters.

“I’m sorry to barge in like this, boss, but I just noticed Sophia’s Alpha Romeo pulling up outside on the monitor. I wanted to make sure you’re expecting her.” I squint one eyeopen just in time to see Marco gesture his head in my direction.

What the fuck does that even mean, and who in the hell is Sophia?

“Fuck,” Alexander grumbles, tossing his phone onto the side table.

Before he has a chance to lift my head off his lap, someone else enters the room. And what they say has my eyes snapping wide open.

“Daddy!”

I watch as the little boy, no older than five, charges toward us. I’m so shell-shocked by what he just said that I can’t even bring myself to move.

“Giovanni,” Alexander says when the boy comes to a screeching halt before him. “What are you doing here? I thought I wasn’t going to see you until next Sunday.”

“Mummy said I could visit you today.”

“Did she now?” he retorts, sounding mildly unimpressed. “Speaking of the devil,” he mutters under his breath as a stunning woman appears beside the small child.

“Alexander,” she says coolly.

“Sophia,” he replies with a sharp, somewhat sardonic tone.

That’s my cue to sit up. My gaze flicks from Alexander to the woman, then back to him. I don’t say a word, but I’m pretty sure my shocked expression conveys exactly how I’m feeling.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Sophia says, as her eyes move down the length of my body before flicking back to my face. “You must be the side piece.”

Side piece?

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