Finished with my snooping, I settle on the couch in to watch TV on a screen so large it fills the entire wall that opposes the bookcases, and the TV leaves no room to spare.
Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any personal pictures of him anywhere else around the house. Or, for that matter, pictures of family celebrations or summer vacations. Until I came into this room, there was no evidence he even lives here.
I appreciate that I’m allowed to wander around the house. With so many guards outside, it would be pointless to try to get away anyhow. In these hills, it would be ridiculous and only hurt me in the long run because then he wouldn’t trust me. The last thing I want is to be tied to a chair with zip ties again.
Dante has told me so many horrible things about my dad, but I’ll keep an open mind and decide for myself. I may be naïve and inexperienced, but I’m a good judge of character.
I settle into the sofa, its softness so inviting I fall asleep.
“What are you doing in here?”
Startled, I wake up and see Dante looming over me with Enzo behind him in the doorway.
“What?” I’m still foggy from my nap and need a minute to think.
“Who gave you permission to be in my study?”
“I didn’t know I couldn’t be in here. I’m sorry.” It doesn’t seem a big deal to me.
“Well?” He waits for me to move and gestures to the door.
“You don’t have to be such an ass about it,” I snap. Crap, I can’t believe I spoke to him that way. He demands respect, and I just totally crossed a line.
“What?”
“Nothing, I’m sorry.” Sheepishly, I get up to go back to my room, but as I pass him, he grabs my arm.
“What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” I flare as I yank my arm back. “What’s wrong with you?”
He releases my arm and lets me pass. After I push past Enzo, I can hear Dante barking at him and I feel bad. Enzo has nothing to do with this and has been the nicest to me out of the three guards.
Walking past the kitchen, I see the woman from this morning, the one who cleans. Apparently, she cooks too because she’s in the kitchen stirring something on the stove that must be delicious. My stomach reminds me I skipped lunch, so I make a detour and introduce myself. She tells me her name is Rosario and hands me a cup of Italian wedding soup.
I’m hungry enough, so I finish all of it, and it’s good, but honestly, my mother’s is better. Now, I want something sweet to eat and open the freezer, looking for gelato. I find one in the back and pull it out.
I’m opening the container when Dante walks into the kitchen. “I was going to eat that,” he grunts, peeved.
“Hmm, well, I was going to share it with you, but now, I think not,” I saucily reply, tempting fate. That will teach him to ignore me all day.
“This might call for a spanking if you don’t want to obey,” he threatens.
That wouldn’t be so terrible.
I pick up a spoon and dig in, taking a scoop and putting it in my mouth, licking it like it’s his hard cock and moaning ever so slightly. Rosario continues to stir her soup and keeps her head down.
“You’ll regret that,” he warns, but his eyes no longer frighten me. If anything, instead of anger, I see passion.
I step closer to him, teasing him, “I thought you said you don’t like lemon flavor, so why do you have it?”
“I love lemon! I just don’t like mixing flavors,” he protests.
“Well?” I purse my lips around the curve of the spoon and swallow.
“You’re being a brat,” he says, standing with his legs apart and arms folded across his chest.
I walk closer, taunting him with another scoop of gelato. “I guess I am.”