Page 214 of Hell Hath No Fury
I take another big gulp of wine until my glass is empty. But then I’m instantly reminded of my situation … and the thing growing inside me that I never really wanted.
I place my hand on my belly, feeling instantly guilty for chugging down that expensive wine.
What am I going to do about this?
When I look up again, his eyes have lowered to where my hand is, and I immediately remove it.
Shit. Did he notice?
The food is brought out and placed in front of us, the smells mouth-watering. I feel almost sick for even wanting to eat it. It’s so expensive. I could’ve bought a week’s worth of food for my mom and me just from the cost of this dish.
But I don’t live with her anymore.
She made that painfully clear.
I swallow and pick up my fork and knife.
“Go on. Take a bite,” Vincenzo says.
I do what he tells me because I don’t want to offend him. But the second the steak hits my tongue, it practically melts in my mouth and makes me want to cry.
“Good, right?” he says, smiling contently.
“I’ve never had something this good.”
He cuts into his steak in such a peculiar way that it draws my attention. Veggies and potatoes are also on his plate, but none of them is allowed to touch each other. When he cuts, he puts in the extra effort so that every piece looks exactly the same.
Strange, if you ask me.
But I guess nothing is strange anymore after today.
He takes a small bite and says, “You can have this every day of the week if you like.”
My fork clatters onto my plate. “What?”
Vincenzo leans forward and places his hand on top of mine. “I want to offer you a place to stay.”
I can’t even swallow the second bite. “But why … me?”
He gently caresses the top of my hand, making heat course through my veins. “Because I do not like injustice.” He licks his lips. “And you’ve been dealt too much.”
CHAPTER THREE
Vincenzo
She can barely speak without stuttering. “What do you mean?”
But I think she knows exactly what I mean.
I tilt my head. “I want to take you home with me.”
“Home … with you?”
Is it such a preposterous idea? To be taken home by a man like me?
Or is she just scared of what I might do?
I release her hand and take another bite of my steak, swallowing it down. She watches me like a hawk, almost as if she’s tempted by the mere idea of coming home with me but too afraid to take the leap.
