Diavolo

xiii

PRESLEY

Octavius and Finley were seated across from me, talking in a low voice. I took a seat right next to Cosimo and assumed Beast would sit on the other side like he always did. Except he didn't. He glanced over at Cosimo with a warning look and took a seat on the right side of Octavius.

I could barely get a word out before Silvio settled on the seat beside me, his large arm resting behind and rubbing slightly against my dress.

I knew he hadn't done it on purpose because he was a big man but it only left me unsettled. Twisting at the waist, I faced him and was about to say something but the heavy look in his eyes left my heart racing.

He raised a brow almost asking for me to speak but I quickly averted my gaze to Beast. The fucker grinned widely even though he knew this was my absolute nightmare.

I released a deep breath and smiled at Fabiano when he served me a plate of Carbonara. My gaze coasted across the table to where Octavius was offering his plate to Finley after she took a bite of hers and didn't like the taste. Even though they were the same exact plate. Pregnancy brain.

I picked up my fork, and twirled a forkful of pasta before I ate it. Oh my fucking god. The different flavors and spices all melted in a perfectly ratio of salty, tangy and savory. Fabiano could cook, I knew that but this was a new level of skill.

"You like it that much, darling?" Beast asked me, blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

I nodded, shoving another forkful of Carbonara into my mouth. A low moan escaped my mouth. Jesus, this was so good. It might have been the fact that I'd been living off Thai food and takeout for the last few months I'd forgotten what actual food tasted like.

"Have you eaten today?"

My heart skipped a quick beat at the sound of Silvio's voice beside me. I'd forgotten he was sitting next to me for a minute.

My face heated, surprise blooming in my chest before I shook my head at his question. Even though I went out to lunch with my friends, I'd picked on my salad and drank shit on of strawberry lemonade.

"Do you always make it a habit of skipping meals?" He asked.

"No." I twisted in my seat to face him and I glared, Even though I was mad at myself for skipping my meals, I hated the fact that he'd picked up on it. Why did he always notice something no one else did. "If you must know, I've had a busy day, Mr. Rossi so yes I haven't eaten today. Is that a problem?"

Those olive-green eyes narrowed slightly but he was silent. I watched him slowly take a drink of his wine, swirl it around in his mouth and then swallow it. All while he kept his gaze on me, the intensity of his stare making me hot and bothered all over. "You're mad at me. I said something wrong," he murmured.

I exhaled a deep breath and shifted my eyes to my plate. "No, I'm usually grumpy when I'm hungry." Where did that come from? "I landed this morning so I didn't get to eat breakfast this morning."

"I see." I could hear the amusement in his voice and swiftly changed topics. "Did you enjoy your visit home?"

Anxiety buzzed beneath my skin like swarms of bees at the mention of home. I stiffened in my seat for a moment before I released my tightened hold on my fork.