INFERNO OF LUST :18+

5|| He is forbidden

plaza- all mine (slowed & reverb)

Lilith 

It was 8:00 PM, the golden light of the evening casting a warm glow in my room as I sat comfortably on my bed, engrossed in a book. The story was thrilling and undeniably alluring, filled with compelling twists and turns that kept me on the edge of my seat. I found myself eagerly anticipating the next spicy encounter between the characters, completely absorbed in this world of intrigue and romance.

Suddenly, a crisp knock on the door jolted me from my reverie. Startled but quickly regaining my composure, I called out, "Come in." The door creaked open, revealing Lara, the maid. She was around my age, and although her role was that of a caretaker, there was a certain ease between us that made our interactions comfortable and friendly.

"Ms. Lilith, dinner is ready," she announced with a hint of formality.

"Oh, please, don't use honorifics," I urged with a wave of my hand, smiling at her to convey my casual request. "Just call me Lilith." The corner of her mouth lifted into a warm smile in response.

Curiosity piqued, I ventured, "Ummm... where are Lorenzo and Scott?" I almost felt a pang of self-consciousness at my inquiry, realizing that it might be viewed as unusual for me to specifically ask about Lorenzo's whereabouts.

"They will be joining shortly, ma'am. Sir only misses family dinner when he is away on business," she replied, her tone respectful yet relaxed.

"Perfect, thanks!" I said, my mood suddenly lit up.

I followed Lara outside to the dining room, her graceful movements guiding the way. She slipped into the kitchen, likely checking on the final preparations of the meal. I took a moment to straighten my outfit – a casual pair of denim jeans paired with a long-sleeve crop top. Nothing too extravagant, but I felt confident in my choice.

As I entered the dining room, I made my way toward my seat, which was positioned next to Scott and across from the head of the table where Lorenzo typically sat. My heart raced with a hint of excitement as I settled in, glancing at the empty chair beside Lorenzo.

I wonder why 

 It suddenly became clear to me that no one seemed to want to sit close to him. Perhaps it was the powerful aura he exuded, a palpable energy that both attracted and intimidated those around him. 

I greet Scott with a small, affectionate peck on his cheek, making a conscious effort to suppress the small desire bubbling within me to extend a similar greeting to Lorenzo. However, I ultimately decide to ignore his broad figure, clad in a perfectly tailored white shirt and crisp black pants, as I notice he is completely absorbed in his phone, his attention firmly glued to the screen, blissfully aware of the tension hanging in the air around us.

It isn't until I take my seat that his focus finally shifts to me. When our eyes meet, he merely nods in my direction, a silent acknowledgment that feels forced. There's no warmth in his gesture, and I can't help but feel a tinge of disappointment at the lack of genuine connection. I choose not to respond, opting instead to scoop food onto my plate, the motion offering me a distraction from the moment.

As I glance around the long table, I realize just how sprawling it is. It's far too large for intimate conversations, which likely explains why everyone seems engrossed in discussions with the people seated next to them. I tune out the chatter from Scott as I eat my ravioli on my plate grappling with the rich sauce., The corner of the table is enveloped in a heavy silence—a situation that seems largely due to the Italian grumpy seated beside me.