Craving Oblivion (New York Billionaires Book 3)

5| Escape

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Escape

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Chapter 5: Escape (Zarah's POV)

I brought a hand up to my mouth and yawned, squinting in the living room as sunlight flooded the room while our dining table remained occupied and buzzed with chatty voices and Ronan's squeals and giggles. It was a Romano tradition to spend every Friday and the weekends having breakfast together and I barely managed to get myself here this morning. 

I was so exhausted that I couldn't bother changing and was the first to arrive this morning, so I headed to my old room and dozed right back off in my bed. 

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Mom chuckled, walking around me, giving my cheeks a squeeze before passing a plate of pancakes to my Dad and sitting beside him. 

Without uttering a word, I sat in the empty seat on my Dad's other side and lifted Ronan into my lap as he ran around the table, refusing to eat. Closing my eyes again, I rested my chin on top of his head and struggled to stay awake. 

"Eat up, mia cara," Dad said, grabbing the top of my head and shaking me awake before pushing a plate with two pancakes on it to me. 

I hummed sleepily and opened my eyes, looking down at Ronan in my lap, squeezing and tickling his sides, making him jump off and run back over to Nick who caught hold of him and placed him in his lap, his back facing the table. 

"I caught you now, Ro, you can't escape," Nick threatened dramatically. 

"Open," Alessia said, bringing a spoon to Ronan's mouth, giving him a bite despite his thrashing and whining. 

"I don't want it!" he whined, grabbing Nick's shirt and leaning forward to wipe his mouth on it. 

At the last minute, Alessia slipped a paper napkin between Ronan's mouth and Nick's shoulder, saving the Armani button-up. 

"Ronan," Nick sighed, "you need to eat." He then faced Alessia. "How do you expect a two-year-old to eat oatmeal when everyone around him is having pancakes?" 

"Oatmeal is good for him." 

"I don't want it!" Ronan exclaimed, grabbing fistfuls of Nick's shirt. 

"He doesn't want it," Nick cried out in frustration, throwing his head back. 

Alessia turned to me, "Help me out." 

I laughed, rubbing my eyes. "He doesn't want it." I glanced over at Ronan as I took my fork and knife in hand. "I guess he doesn't want ice cream after breakfast either." 

Ronan turned to look at me over his shoulder, his eyes wide in shock. 

"Do you?" 

He nodded eagerly. Nick set him down and he walked over to me. 

I pulled out the chair beside mine, seating him down, and took the oatmeal from Alessia, ignoring his pout. "If you finish the little bit of oatmeal that's left in this bowl, I'll get you ice cream."