The Mafia's Forbidden Desire

7| Endless Questions.

Not even for a second before I fell asleep did the thoughts of what happened between me and Antonio leave my mind. I fell asleep thinking about him, and now that I'm up, thoughts of him were the first to cross my mind.

Was he also attracted to me, or was I misinterpreting things? Did he sniff my neck so sensually only because he liked my scent?

Could it be that he was only under the influence of alcohol? I kept asking myself endless questions. Questions I had no answers to.

I could still remember the way I involuntarily pressed myself against him as I allowed myself to feel his hard, defined body. I could still remember how intense my arousal was as he rubbed his thumb over the red sting spot and sniffed my neck.

As those memories coursed through me, I caught myself absentmindedly rubbing the same red spot, feeling my folds contrast as I let out a short moan.

I quickly snapped myself out of it, shaking my head in disbelief at what I was doing. He was out of bounds for me, and as much as I hated him, I also loathed myself for being attracted to him. My brother-in-law.

Suddenly, my stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten dinner before going to bed last night. Antonio's thoughts had consumed me, causing me to forget about everything else.

I jumped out of bed and made my way to the kitchen to grab something for breakfast.

When I entered the kitchen, my brother Matteo was already there. I narrowed my eyes as I noticed the blood-stained plaster on his cheek.

"What happened?" I quickly asked, fully expecting a sarcastic response.

They never tell the women anything, always leaving us in the dark.

"I fought with a lion, and he slashed through my cheek with his claws," he replied, taking a bite of his sandwich before continuing with his mouth full. "But trust me, I didn't allow it to go unscathed."

There it was—the sarcasm-filled response.

"Good morning, Rosalinda." Grace, the home cook, greeted me, and I flicked my gaze to see her brewing coffee. I hadn't even noticed her when I entered the kitchen; my gaze and concern were fixed on my brother.

"Good morning, Grace." I responded as I ventured further into the kitchen and sat across from Matteo by the counter.

"What would you like to have for breakfast?" She asked.

"Sandwich and coffee will do." I told her.

"Done."

"So, Rosa. What do you think a girl would prefer for a gift, pants or—"

"Don't ask me to play a role in ruining a girl's life." I cut him in.

I knew Matteo way too well. He uses gifts to woo women, fuck them, and dump them. Lather, rinse, and repeat. He was never serious about any woman. He saw women as mere sex objects, and that was heartbreaking. I tried talking him out of that lifestyle several times, but to no avail.

"What?" He placed his hand over his chest, feigning shock. "That hurts. I'm not a life-ruiner. I'm actually serious about this one."

"I've heard that phrase a billion times before." I retorted, rolling my eyes.

"Okay." He lifted his hands up in surrender. "I won't ask for your help anymore."

"Good," I muttered.

Grace inched closer to Matteo and dropped a cup of coffee on the counter before him.

He gave her a slight nod before picking it up and taking a sip.

"You make the best coffee, as always." He complimented her, and her blush reached her ears.

"Look who's up." Matteo said, his gaze directed at the door, and I turned to see Sofia venturing inside the kitchen.

She let out a sigh of relief the second she sighted me, and she inched closer to me.

"Good morning, Sofia." Grace greeted her, and Sofia flashed a smile at her.

"Good morning." She replied before quickly returning her gaze to me.

"I was so worried; I am so glad you..." She trailed off and flicked her gaze at Matteo.

Pressing her lips tightly together, she changed her mind about talking and jumped on the stool right next to me.

"What were you going to say?" Matteo nodded slightly, gesturing for Sofia to continue.

"Do you tell us your business?" Sofia snickered, raising a brow.

When she didn't get a response from him, she proceeded to reply herself. "No."

"You are keeping secrets now, ughh?" He groaned, darting his gaze between me and Sofia. "Sneaky asses."

"Just the way you keep secrets." Sofia retorted.

"Can't you see?" Matteo said, changing the subject as he pointed to his injured cheek. "You won't even ask about my wound." He clicked his tongue, slightly shaking his head. "What a great and caring sister I have."

Sofia rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't tell me. So why bother?"

Rising to his feet with his cup of coffee in his hand, he clicked his tongue again. "I would remember to warn your husband-to-be about how mean you are."

Rolling her eyes, she mumbled "Like I care."

"And I am going to do that right now. He's with Papá." Matteo continued as he made his way to the exit, and my eyes widened.

"Why is he here so early?" I quickly asked.

"Business," he muttered before walking out of the kitchen, leaving me without any details.

At the mention of Antonio, memories of last night, which I had momentarily pushed aside, came rushing back, and I found myself lost in a daze as I remembered every detail.

"Rosa," Sofia called, cutting through my thoughts.

"Yes." I swallowed against my dry throat as I swung my head to the side to look at her.

"What happened last night? Why did you ask Oliver to take me with him and leave the pub immediately?" She asked, her tone dripping with curiosity.

I blew out a sharp breath and leaned forward, planting both elbows on the counter. "I thought I saw Antonio. I was wrong." I lied.

If I had told her the truth, she would have questioned why I didn't run away with them, and if I told her that I couldn't run because he saw me, she knew it was almost impossible for him to see me and not report it to Papà. Telling her the truth would have raised too many questions. Questions I wouldn't have been able to answer, as I was ashamed of my desires for that man.

"So. How did it go? Did you—" I started, changing the subject, but she cut me off.

"I didn't end it." She revealed, and my annoyance was palpable in the way I smacked her hard on the shoulder.

She made us go through all those risks for nothing?

"Are you crazy?" I exclaimed. "Why didn't you end it?"

"End what?" We suddenly heard a familiar voice say, and we snapped our gaze to the entrance to see Antonio standing in the door frame.

Damn! He looked as devilishly hot as always, dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Simple but irresistible.

"End—Uhm—the—Uhm—" Sofia stuttered as she nervously scratched the back of her neck.

"She made a deal with Matteo, and I asked her to end it as he was obviously going to win her and cheat her. But she didn't." I lied, trying to save the situation.

"I see." He narrowed his eyes in a way that showed that he didn't buy the lie but was choosing to let it go anyway.

He moved further into the kitchen, his gaze fixed on Sofia as he spoke. "I asked your sister something, and she asked me to ask you."

"What?" Sofia asked curiously.

"Would you like to stay with me and my family, or would you like to stay alone? With securities, of course."

I knew what her response would be even before she uttered it.

"Alone," Sofia quickly said without hesitation.

Of, course.

"Good," Antonio said, giving a firm nod.

"Good morning, Mr. Russo." Grace greeted him as she walked past us.

"Is my sandwich ready?" I asked, and she turned to look at me.

"Almost. I want to go and get pesto sauce from the store. Your favorite." She informed me, and I nodded with a smile on my face.

She gave me a duchenne smile before continuing on her way. As she reached the door, she nearly bumped into Matteo, and she quickly apologized before disappearing.

Matteo stood in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Antonio. He regarded him warily before glancing at Sofia.

"Meanie, Papà asked me to call you." He told her, and she jumped out of her seat and hastily made her way to the exit as if she had been looking for a way to escape.

Matteo gave Antonio a wary look before following Sofia, leaving me and Antonio alone in the same space. Again.

Antonio closed the distance between us, his gaze never leaving mine.

"Just because I spared you last night doesn't mean I will spare you again." He muttered, his voice low and menacing.

"Okay." I simply said and nodded, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Look at me when I am talking to you." His fingers found their way under my chin, slightly lifting my face to meet his gaze. Those alluring hazel eyes

"Do you hear me?" He pressed on, and I nodded my head obediently.

He removed his fingers from my chin and glanced down at my chest. "Does it still hurt?" His voice was now soft.

"No." I slightly shook my head.

"Let me see." His hand moved to my chest, parting the top of my button-down nightwear with two fingers, exposing the red mark where the fire ant had stung me.

"It's still slightly red." He observed, and I swallowed.

He had no idea what his slight touch was doing to me. Desire licked every single spot beneath my skin as I fought the urge to jerk up and throw myself on him, kissing him passionately like never before. I wanted to feel him inside me. My secret part longed for him.

And he made it so much harder for me as he gently rubbed that spot, his eyes never leaving mine. I couldn't decipher the exact look in his eyes, but I hoped it wasn't lust.

He was my brother-in-law and we shouldn't be lusting over each other.

Lost in the depths of each other's eyes, the last shred of control within me was about to snap when the sound of Grace's singing voice interrupted us, and he swiftly withdrew his finger from my chest.

I turned to see Grace walking through the door, and the second she noticed that Antonio was still inside, she abruptly stopped singing and focused her gaze on the ground as she ventured into the kitchen.

Returning my gaze to Antonio, he slipped his hands into his pockets and pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Behave." He muttered before turning on his heels and walking out of the kitchen, leaving me soaking wet and yearning for his touch.

A touch I would never feel.