Page 29 of Flawed

She tilts her head. "What kind?"

I shrug. "Different ones."

"Such as?"

"Restaurants, a few gyms, nothing over the top, but it all adds up," I admit, not wanting to go into detail about anything I do for work. There's only one place that will lead to, and I can't go there right now.

She lifts her head higher. "Who do you own them with?"

"Myself. A few with some family members. Why do you seem upset with me about my business dealings?" I ask.

"I'm not upset," she claims.

"Aren't you?" I challenge.

She studies me a moment then jumps off the counter. "Just curious about you. Can we eat? I'm starving and tired. I need to go back to bed."

I open my mouth and then close it, deciding it's best to change the subject. I've somehow ruined whatever it was I was trying to tell her. Now she's mad at me again.

But what was I thinking? Discussing anything related to my life is a bad idea. There's not a lot I can tell her while keeping her safe or expecting her not to run.

I step in front of the stove, pick up the potholders, then strain the noodles over the sink. Steam fills the air. I set the pot back on the burner, fill two plates with pasta, and top them with sauce. I carry them to the table and bring water and silverware.

Chanel hasn't moved. She's still glaring, but her focus is on the floor.

I return to her and cautiously say, "Come eat."

She glances up at me, pinning me with a world of hurt, sadness, and something I haven't seen before in her.

It's disappointment.

My heart sinks. I take her hand, kiss it, then lead her to the table. I pull out her chair, and she sits. I take the seat next to her and wait for her to start eating.

We stay quiet, not discussing anything throughout most of the meal. A fierce debate takes hold in my mind, but everything I think of saying seems like a bad idea. When the meal's almost over, I slide my arm around her shoulders and lean closer.

Her body stiffens. She slowly glances at me.

I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear, stating, "Forgive me if I've said things that upset you. I'm... I'm a flawed man. My life consists of working, and I spend most of my free time alone."

She closes her eyes briefly.

I add, "I like you… a lot. I don't ever tell women that, but it's true. And I'm not sure how I keep screwing up and upsetting you, but it's not my intention."

Her bottom lip quivers, and she closes her eyes again.

I drag my knuckles over her cheek and plead, "Will you please tell me what I'm doing that keeps upsetting you?"

Time seems to stand still. She finally opens her eyes and clears her throat. "We can't be together, Luca."

A bomb explodes in my heart. It's the last thing I expected her to say. I demand, "Why would you say such a thing?"

Her eyes glisten, and she rises, picking up the plates. "I think you know why." She goes into the kitchen, rinses the plates, and puts them in the dishwasher.

I follow her into the bedroom. "Tell me what you mean, stellina."

She angrily spins, putting her hands on her hips. "So I'm supposed to tell you what you want to know, but you can't answer my questions?"

"What didn't I answer?" I ask.

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