Blade

Chapter 46: Pure wickedness

Sienna

I pull away from Blade with hesitation, pushing at his chest as if trying to move a wall of solid muscle.

He only chuckles at my futile effort before rising to his feet, tugging me up with him. Heat creeps across my cheeks in embarrassment just as Franco strides further into the room, a deep frown carved into his face.

"Seriously, get a fucking room. This is the second or third time I’ve had to witness this crap. Feels like I’m cursed," Franco says flatly, water dripping from his brown hair and soaking into his grey T-shirt, darkening the thin fabric.

"Shut up, Franco. This is the second time. The one at the club doesn’t count," Blade says, draping his arm over my shoulders. The gesture doesn’t escape Franco, who gasps theatrically before smirking. Damn it.

"Obviously, something happened between you two. Probably sex, since Blade hasn’t looked this content in a long time." Franco shoots me a subtle wink, and my cheeks grow hotter as he starts wrapping tape around his fists.

"What are you doing here?" Blade asks, his fingers tracing invisible patterns along my arm. He does it without realizing, but his touch sends sparks through me, making me shiver.

"Matilde wants both of you in the kitchen. Apparently, you skipped breakfast and lunch. Now I see why." Franco wiggles his eyebrows, brushing strands of brown hair off his forehead as his fist connects with the black punching bag.

"You really need to stop prying into our business, Franco," Blade says with a faint glare while I lace my fingers with his.

Franco lets out a heavy breath before chuckling. "I would, if you two were a little more discreet. Maybe get a room next time."

"Asshole," Blade mutters under his breath as he guides me toward the door.

Seconds later, we head into the dining room and find the table covered with an incredible spread of food.

“What took you both so long? You haven’t eaten anything since earlier. I’m certain you must be starving,” Matilde says as we take our seats at the table. Neither of us replies, and I fight to hide my blush under the weight of Blade’s smirk.

“Go on, eat,” she urges, pointing her ladle toward a steaming bowl of pasta she sets in front of me. Her expression hardens. “You skipped breakfast and lunch, cara. The least you can do is finish this without hesitation.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, tighten my grip on the fork, and scoop a few pieces of pasta. Marinara slides off the noodles and drips back onto the plate.

I’ve never liked pasta. I can’t even explain why, but the taste disgusts me.

The smell alone makes me want to gag, yet I steel myself and take a bite for Matilde’s sake.

I press the fork to my lips and chew reluctantly, my stomach twisting in protest. Still, I force it down.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Matilde grins, patting my back before walking away. I only nod in response. The moment she’s gone, Blade pours himself a glass of wine and gives me a mocking toast. The urge to jab the fork into his side flares up, but I push it down.

With Matilde out of sight, I shove the pasta aside and reach for the lasagna instead.

The rich layers of sauce and cheese look more forgiving than the pale noodles swimming in oil. I cut into it, savoring the warmth as it melts on my tongue.