Page 29 of Beautiful Devil

He locked me in here and I’m stuck.

At the mercy of one Fabrizio Moretti.

CHAPTER9

FABRIZIO

It's beenthree days since Gia D’Amato entered my home and I haven’t dared to go near her bedroom since that first morning. Knowing she’s right next door and not seeing her is absolute torture, but I definitely don’t trust myself around her.

The way her small body cowered away from me, how her breath caught and that little whimper that escaped her lips. I’m pissed to think a woman who tried to steal from me gets my dick so fucking hard.

Maybe all I need is a good lay. Then I’ll be able to talk to her without my cock acting like I’m a fucking teenager. Regardless, I need to get my shit together – and soon – so that I can get all the information I need to figure out what the fuck partDante Bonettiplays in all this.

Walking out of my office, I make my way to the kitchen, knowing that at 11 a.m., it's the place I’m most likely to find Marco. Sure enough, when I enter, he’s standing at the coffee machine making himself a cup.

“I need to talk to Gia today,” I say.

“You need to, or you want me to?”

“I need to, but if I’m not back down in ten minutes, come and find me.”

He lifts a brow at me over his coffee cup.

“Sure,” is his only reply as he nods his head in agreement.

Turning away, I storm off in the direction of the stairs, straight for Gia’s room.

Gia’sroom? What, like she fucking lives here?

I take a couple of deep breaths before getting the key out of my pocket and unlocking the door.

Keep your shit together, Fabi. Get this over and done with, and then go get yourself laid.

Walking into the room, I find her sitting on the bed wearing a pair of black yoga pants and a gray oversized t-shirt that I had delivered for her. My dick twitches a little at the thought of what her ass looks like in those yoga pants.

Fuck.

She's showered and washed her hair since I last saw her, and the closer I get, the clearer it becomes that she's been crying. She doesn’t move, but her eyes hold mine as she glares at me.

Maria, my housekeeper, informed me that Gia has refused almost all meals since she arrived. She's lucky I’m even providing food at all after everything she’s done, yet she has the audacity to refuse it?

I come to a stop at the bottom of the bed as we eye each other in complete silence. The tension between us grows tighter with every passing second.

I clear my throat before asking, “How do you know Dante Bonetti?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, her eyes narrow and, if possible, look as though they fill with even more rage.

“Look, I need questions answered. You’re lucky to still be alive after you stole from me, so I have to advise you, the quicker you cooperate the sooner this will all be over.”

She doesn’t answer immediately, but when she does, the venom dripping from her voice is clear as day. This woman hates me.

“I don’t know Dante, whoever the fuck he is. And I didn’t steal from you!”

My face hardens at her lie. I don’t want to have to hurt a woman, but if I need to in order to get some answers, then just this once, I just might.

“Well, your husband certainly knew him. Now, do not lie to me again.How do you know Dante Bonetti?”

Quick as a flash she jumps to her feet and storms straight toward me.

---