Chapter 23

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It doesn't matter what's in front of her because she knows who's behind her
*Pinterest*

It doesn't matter what's in front of her because she knows who's behind her *Pinterest*

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~unedited~


Raphael.

"How did I end up in your bed? I remember falling asleep on Gab's bed yesterday while still reading one of the manuscripts."

Sophie asked me. She was perched on the bed, closed-legged leaning on the headboard, her hair was in disarray, her brows knit together in a cute, thoughtful way, her blue eyes fixed on me; she was stunning.

"I picked you up? " I shrugged, like picking her up was a usual occurrence.

I have been sleeping alone my entire life; I've had insomnia since I could remember, I don't sleep well. I'm probably one of the functioning sleep-deprived people in the world, but since her, I'm sleeping better.
The strangest thing is, I seem to sleep better with her next to me.

"Why did you pick me up? You were mad at me yesterday, you didn't even say goodbye, and you have the gall to carry me to your bed? Kiss me as if nothing happened and then touch me like ..." she paused, and I smiled.

"Touch you like what?"

"Don't you dare laugh at me! "

"I'm not laughing at you, but you were right there with me, baby...You kissed me back. In fact-"

I didn't finish that sentence; she threw a pillow at me so fast I admired her reflex; she got off the bed and left banging the door hard enough the hinges must have felt the fury.

What the hell just happened?

I stood where she'd left me, surprised. I didn't see that coming.

She was furious; somehow, I didn't really understand the reason why she was so mad; it's like she snapped. One minute she is perched on my bed looking ruffled and cute; the next, she is throwing a pillow on my face.

Damn it if I wasn't impressed! Surprised and euphoric. My life was changing, somehow I wasn't in charge of it anymore, a petite, ginger-haired girl was messing with me, and I liked it, hell, I loved it!

What do men do when they piss off their women? I wondered. Do we still buy flowers, a dinner date, shoes, dresses! Damn it! I was out of my depth again-and I didn't even know what exactly she was pissed about.

Was she pissed off because I carried her to my bed? Or because I didn't feel inclined to say goodbye to her after watching her flirt with my brothers? Do all women behave unreasonably as Sophie?

She was unreasonable that I knew for a fact. So I didn't say goodbye, what's the big deal? Or carried her to my bed; she loves sleeping with me; I can tell. She always cuddles to me, her leg enveloped in mine, her face on my chest, her breath around me.

Bred In Violence (A Mafia Romance Book One) #𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟏Where stories live. Discover now