CHAPTER 13 #2
I mustered my best smile before dropping it as I poured myself some juice. I placed the bottle back in the fridge, sipping my juice as I left. “Antonio seriously needs more respectful hookers,” she groaned and I froze, turning to look back at her.
“Yes, he does,” I nodded in agreement and her head snapped toward me. Her eyes narrowed in on me and I could tell I hit a nerve.
“ You’re calling me a hooker?”
“If the shirt fits,” I shrugged my right shoulder. I finished my juice, and walked over to the sink—where she was standing.
“You’re accusing me of being the hooker?” she asked, grabbing my arm. “If anything, princess , you’re the one who’ll be out soon enough,” she tightened her grip on my arm. I grabbed onto her wrist, meeting her deadly gaze.
“I don’t think Antonio would appreciate you putting your hands on his fiancée.”
When she realized just how serious I was, she looked down and as soon as she saw the ring she let go. This time, I grabbed her wrist, and twisted her arm, making her squirm.
“Try it again and I’ll rip your arm off myself,” I warned. “Tell my fiancé I headed out if he asks,” I smiled. I grabbed my bag before walking out of the kitchen.
As soon as I reached the front door, I heard Antonio’s voice behind me. “Where are you going?” he asked as I opened the door. Without turning to look at him, I exited the house.
“Out!” I replied, shutting the door in his face.
* * *
After a breakfast and lunch that went by smoothly with Jordan, I was thankful to finally get back to the house. I needed some peace and quiet.
“You old wrench!”
My head snapped up as I entered the house, hearing scuffling. What’s going on?
“I told you to prepare something cute and romantic, not friendly and frantic!” a woman whisper-yelled. It was coming from the living room.
“Mr. Antonio is engaged,” I heard Rosalia fearfully say. “Having something romantic would be inappropriate—” she got cut off with a smack and my eyes grew wide.
I hurried into the living room to find the woman from this morning with a deadly grip on Rosalia’s arm.
“Now, you listen here…” she began but I rushed over, pulling Rosalia from her hold, and wrapping my arms around her.
“Are you fucking kidding me!” I snapped, feeling Rosalia tremble in my arms. “You’re so dead,” I seethed letting go but Rosalia stopped me.
“No miss, please,” she pleaded and I looked over at her. She saw the confusion on my face and spoke again. “Mr. Antonio is very fond of Miss Fernandina,” she murmured. “If you hurt her he’ll be extremely upset with you.”
“Rosalia, she hit you,” I shook my head. I didn’t give a damn who she was or what she had. All I knew was that she just put her hands on Rosalia and I’ll be damned if I did nothing about it.
“It doesn’t matter,” Rosalia shook her head.
“But she hurt you,” I tried once again reasoning with her.
“Serves her right,” Fernandina scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “If the witch had listened the first time, then maybe—”
I cut her off with smack and my jaw clenched. “She is old enough to be your mother,” I seethed.
She placed a soothing palm on her cheek as anger ignited in her eyes and she slowly stepped towards me.
“What is going on here?” Antonio asked, entering the living room and Rosalia’s head snapped to him. She tried moving but I held her still.
Ignoring Antonio’s question, I turned to face Fernandina.
“If you so much as touch a single strand of hair on Rosalia’s head again, so help me God, I’ll beat you until not even your own mother recognizes you,” I warned and her bottom lip began quivering.
She’s not actually thinking about—and cue the tears.
A stream of tears ran down her cheeks as she sobbed. What is she doing? She grabbed Rosalia’s arm, pulling her towards Antonio and they stopped at his side.
“Antonio she’s crazy,” Fernandina cried. “I came downstairs for some water and saw her hitting Rosalia,” she explained and I crossed my arms over my chest. She’s not seriously pinning this on me, is she?
“I, of course, had to step in and help poor Rosalia, I mean at this age she’s practically helpless and this girl took advantage of that.”
I ignored her little tantrum as I approached Antonio. “You might not have respect for yourself or me but as long as I’m here, you will respect Rosalia.”
Antonio seemed genuinely confused as he tried making sense of the situation. He looked down at Rosalia who lowered her head. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Antonio. I told Miss Nirah not to do anything to Miss Fernandina,” she apologized.
“Rosalia, don’t even apologize to him,” I shook my head. “I was only defending you.”
“Defending her against the woman in tears?” Antonio asked me and I smiled. He’s unbelievable.
“You’re even more pathetic than I thought.” I gently took Rosalia’s bruised arm and wrist, showing it to him. “That’s what the ‘ woman in tears ’ did,” I said and he looked down at her arm and wrist. “And this,” I said, pointing to the handprint on Rosalia’s cheek.
“No, I didn’t—it wasn’t me,” Fernandina shook her head. “It was her. You heard her threaten me, she’s fucking psycho.”
Antonio looked over at Fernandina in denial. “Nirah wouldn’t—”
“Oh, but she did!” she interrupted him.
“I didn’t,” I reassured him and he seemed torn. “You’re not seriously doubting me right now, are you?” I asked in disbelief, and he looked over at Fernandina who started crying some more and sniffing.
I looked over at Rosalia and her head hung low.
“Well, fuck you for thinking I’d ever hurt Rosalia.” I took Rosalia’s hand and headed upstairs with her. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I had her sit down on my bed as I gently applied some cream to her bruises. “It should take about two to three days before these go away,” I explained.
“How do you know all of this, Miss Nirah?” she asked.
“Just ‘ Nirah ’,” I smiled. I’m not letting a woman old enough to be my mother call me Miss .
“Well, let’s just say I’ve had my fair share of bad men and women,” I explained as I closed the tube of cream.
She slowly nodded, looking at me sympathetically.
“So tell me, Rosalia. Why does he care so much for her?”
She sighed deeply, looking at her hands on her lap.
“Miss Fernandina has always been there for Mr. Antonio,” she explained.
It took her a second to continue, so I waited patiently.
“When he left home at fifteen—because of his fighting parents—she found him. He had stayed with her for the years leading up to his eighteenth birthday,” she continued.
She looked uncertain and hesitant so I placed my hand on top of hers.
“It’s okay. You can tell me,” I assured her.
“Mr. Antonio almost died the night he left home. He was so angry, and well, that’s when she found him and took care of him.”
I swallowed hard. “What happened after that?”
“Miss Fernandina gave Mr. Antonio a rather special birthday present, if I may call it that,” she bitterly said in disbelief and my heart nearly stopped.
“And no, not just on his eighteenth birthday. It’s how their relationship came about.
” So she took advantage of a vulnerable fifteen year old, and—oh my God, she’s disgusting.
“How do you know that?” I stammered in disbelief.
“After years, she became too clingy for Mr. Antonio, and he decided to come back home. Since he was extremely close to his mother, he told her everything, and she told me. Miss Fernandina has always been very rich, she still is, so the money was not the reason she came back.” There was a brief pause.
“She came back for him ,” Rosalia finally said, looking up at me. “And she always gets what she wants.”
I felt my chest tighten at the thought and my mind went a hundred miles per hour. “But Nirah,” Rosalia smiled. “Mr. Antonio does not want Miss Fernandina.”
My voice was too hopeful for my liking. “He said that?”
“He wants someone else, dear. He no longer cares for Miss Fernandina in that way.”
I brushed off her words. “How come he doesn’t distance himself from her after what she did?”
Her eyes held sympathy. “Powerful men, Nirah,” she paused to look into my eyes. “ Don’t get taken advantage of.”
My face held confusion.
“Men in charge, leaders, they’re strong. You can’t follow a leader who’s weak.”
I shook my head. “But that doesn’t make him weak.”
A soft smile appeared on her lips. “In some cases, maybe,” she vaguely said. “But not all. And one day, you’ll understand why.”
I looked down at my hands on my lap as I fiddled with my fingers, trying to make sense of it all. In what case would Antonio being taken advantage of as a child, make him look weak…
“Mr. Antonio prefers business over any personal relationships,” she explained. “ But, Nirah,” she suddenly grabbed my hand, and my head snapped up. “I am trusting you. He can not know that I told you any of this, please .”
I nodded in response, seeing the fearful plead in her eyes. “No one will know, I promise.”
My bedroom door opened, and Antonio stood in the doorway. Rosalia practically jumped up, and so did I. He walked toward us, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “An apology isn’t enough, but it will suffice for now.”
“First you disrespect me in front of my staff and a guest, and then you give me an order?” he rhetorically asked, and I saw the muscle in his jaw tick.
I looked from him to Rosalia, then back at him, and nodded. “Yes,” I said in the most obvious tone.
He spat out some Italian, and Rosalia nodded with shame written all over her. As she was about to leave, I reached over to stop her. “Was that an apology?” I narrowed my eyes, and she smiled.
“Thank you, Miss Nirah.”
She left the room, and I darted my eyes back to Antonio.
“It wasn’t an apology, was it?” I asked, and he rubbed his tongue on the inside of his cheek, clearly not very happy with me right now.
“Also, if you’re going to sleep with other women, maybe have the decency to not have them parading around half naked. ”
“I didn’t have sex with her.”
I smiled, folding my arms over my chest. “Sure you didn’t.”
“Let’s get one thing clear,” he began, stepping forward to close the space between us.
“Don’t disrespect me in front of a guest or my staff.
Ever ,” he said, oh so demanding, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.
“I already warned you about rolling your eyes at me,” he said, reaching forward to wrap a firm hand around my neck.
“If you want to behave like a child, I’ll treat you like one. ”
“And if you want to be respected, you earn it,” I fired back, and I noticed the protruding vein in his forehead vividly pulsing.
The muscle in his jaw ticked, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“I’m so close to seeing this little guy pop,” I whispered against his lips, letting my thumb lightly brush over his vein. “Won’t be long now.”
“I’m not playing with you, Nirah,” he warned. “Don’t—disrespect—me.”
“Earn it.”
His fingers around my neck tightened as he walked me back against the wall, and my hands flew up to grab his forearm.
His lips grazed my cheek, stopping at my ear, and I held my breath. “Disrespect me one more fucking time and I’ll throw you over my lap, leaving my handprint all over that perky ass of yours,” he promised and my eyes grew wide. “You’ve surely earned that.”
My heart was fighting against my rib cage. His grip around my neck loosened as he gently cupped the other side of my face.
I subtly bit down on my bottom lip, hiding the trembling as I forced bravery.
His free hand rode from my hip, up my waist and around my lower back. He rested his hand an inch away from my ass as he pulled my body towards him. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest as our bodies pressed together. “Understand?” he gritted out, but I didn’t answer. “Do you understand, Nirah?”
“Just so you know…” I trailed off, holding his stare. “Pushing women around who are half your size doesn’t make you a tough guy. It makes you a fucking pussy .”
The muscle under his right eye twitched as though mentally, he was scurrying around, trying to understand the words that just left my mouth. Realization slammed into me instantly. No one’s ever spoken to him like that before.
A normal person would’ve ended things there. Given up. Waved the white flag. But I couldn’t, because I didn’t come this far to let some man push me around. “And you don’t scare me either.”
“Do you know what happened to the last person who said they didn’t fear me?” he asked and his entire body pressed up against mine.
“Let me guess you hurt them—”
He cut me off by wrapping his hand around my throat—making my eyes shoot open. No .
He lowered his lips to my ear, tightening his fingers around my neck. I could barely swallow with his firm grip around my neck, and suddenly the walls were closing in on me.
“Damn right I hurt him,” he whispered. “I broke every bone in his goddamn body and used a blow torch to burn my name into his flesh.”
I panicked, feeling my chest burn but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t cower, and beg him to let go. So I fought it as has hard as I could, masking my fear.
“You have deep rooted issues don’t you?” I asked with a hint of foolishness, turning my head just a little to meet his eyes. “You wanna talk about it?” I mused, looking up at him, and something sinister flickered behind his eyes.
Feigning innocence, I batted my eyelashes up at him, dropping my eyes to his lips for a split second.
He grinned, rubbing his tongue on the inside of his cheek as his lips hovered mere inches from mine.
“Keep looking at me like that and talking will be the last thing we’ll be doing.” Ohhh Jesus…
My reply was reluctant, almost tremulous. “Fine. I understand.”
He let go of my neck, and I quickly—quietly—sucked in a heap of oxygen.
Our gazes met and a shiver ran down my spine as I stared into his eyes—a black hole of destruction.
He slightly tilted his head to the side and let his fingers run up my back, stopping at the nape of my neck.
“Don’t ever take what I say lightly,” he stated.
It was evident in his tone that he was warning me. A mild threat even.