Page 66 of Beautiful Devil

I run the rest of the way to the bedroom, slam the door and start pacing.

There's so much to unpack from what just happened. This has nothing to do with him saying that I can’t touch myself and my pussy is his.

Keep telling yourself that, Gia.

My mind is spinning as I go back over everything that I just learned: I can’t see Elle because it’s no longer safe thanks to some asshole or rival mafia blowing up his warehouse. Fabi has a sister named Sofia. I’m to watch the way I speak to him around his men and the way I dress, becauseapparently,I have to dress like a nun now. Rolling my eyes, I look down at myself to take in my outfit and instantly cringe.

I was so worked up over the fact that he reneged on me seeing Elle that I just ran right after him, and my outfit leaves nothing to the imagination. Oh, my God, I look like a hussy.

Covering my face with my hands, I stop pacing and let out a frustrated scream, and at the same time, Maria walks in carrying my breakfast.

Great.

Concern covers her face, and her eyes take me in, making me even more aware of my lack of clothing. I can feel the red creep up my neck as the embarrassment sinks in.

How many more people are going to see me like this today?

Putting the tray with my food down on the table by the window, Maria walks over to me with concern still evident on her beautiful features.

“Stai bene, caro?”

I’m taken aback by the fact that she has finally spoken to me. I just stand there blinking at her.

“Are you okay, dear?”

Her English is broken and thick with her Italian accent. I’m shocked that she can speak English at all. After all this time. A little chuckle escapes her as she takes in my reaction. I’m a blubbering mess when I try to answer her.

“What? You? How? Y-you speak English?”

My voice screeches on the last word and she lets out another chuckle and a full smile takes over her face. She really is quite beautiful.

“A little. Not very good.SignoreMoretti made sure we knew basic English, but only spoke Italian in front of the company. He wanted us to tell him anything important they said.”

“Oh, my God. Fabi made you all be his spies?”

I’m horrified at the fact that he would make Maria learn a different language to spy on people. He really is the devil.

“No, no, not Don Moretti.SignoreMoretti,” she clarifies.

“Isn’t that the same person?” This is too confusing. How many names does this man have?

Another little chuckle escapes her mouth before she speaks again. “No, cara mia,Signore Moretti is Vincenzo, Don Moretti’s father.Capisce?”

“Yes,” I say, slowly nodding as she moves closer.

She lays a hand on my shoulder and speaks in a soft nurturing tone.“Are you okay, cara?

“Oh, um, my name is Gia. But yes, I’m fine.”

Maria lets out a big belly laugh and pats me on the cheek a couple times before speaking around a smile.

I am so confused right now.

“I know what your name is, Mrs. Moretti.” Another giggle escapes her before she continues.“Carameans ‘dear’ in Italian. You do not speak?”

I make an O shape with my mouth and laugh a little bit before embarrassment takes over. An idea forms and is out of my mouth before I can even think it through.

“I don’t. My parents both speak it, but they never taught me.”

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