Chapter 9
Twenty seconds later, I found a very guilty-looking Theo sporting a thick chocolate ice cream moustache.
“Caught you,” He practically jumped out of his skin the moment I wrapped my arms around him.
“Auntie Bells! No fair. You scared me.” I smothered his cheeks with kisses as he let out the cutest giggle.
“What are you doing out here, little man?”
“I wanted ice cream, but Nana said no.” He placed the spoon down in the tub with a sheepish look.
“So you did it anyway?” I crouched beside him, swiping the remnants of ice cream from his upper lip with my thumb.
“Please don’t tell her. I won’t do it again. I promise,” his eyes pleaded.
“Fine, but just this once,” I smiled and lifted him off the ground. He flung his little arms around my neck and rested his head on my shoulder.
“What about that?” He asked, whipping his head up to stare down at the evidence.
“I’ll say it was me, don’t worry,” the look of happiness on his face caused my heart to swell with love.
“Thank you, Auntie Bells!” He planted a sticky ice cream kiss on my cheek as we wandered back to the house.
“There you both are, dinner’s ready.” My mother beamed as she carried what seemed to be the final plate into the dining room.
The moment I entered with Theo in my arms, I felt those deep hazel eyes land on me once more. Once again, my body hummed uncomfortably, but I wouldn’t allow him to see that.
Ugh, why did my mother always insist on everyone eating together?
“Auntie Bells, who’s that man sitting in my Papa’s spot?” Theo asked louder than anticipated, the whole dining table erupted in laughter as Theo blushed.
“He is here to help your auntie with some things.” My father said from the top of the table. Theo huffed quietly in my ear and I knew he trusted Arturo about as much as I did.
I sat Theo in his seat, placed his napkin on his lap, and pushed his chair under the table. He thanked me politely, making Luca smile with pride.
“Glad you could finally join us, Isabella.” I stiffened as everyone waited with bated breath for my snide remark.
"Please accept my apologies, my nephew needed assistance." I tilted my head to the side, a smile tugging at my lips.
"Ah, you'll have to work hard if you want Isabella's dedication and attention, Arturo. For Bella, her nephew always comes first." My father joked, but he wasn't wrong.
“Then I guess it's a good job that I won’t be the one workin' hard in this partnership.” Arturo took a sip of his drink.
The room went quiet. So quiet you could have heard a pin drop. Swallowing a groan, I gave a placid smile and sat down. I could play the dutiful daughter for one evening, despite feeling ready to slit Arturo's throat.
“A partnership works both ways, Arturo,” I said, lowering into my chair. “So forgive me if I’m wrong—which I rarely ever am—I’m pretty sure you will work just as hard as I will.” Was that pleasure I saw in his eyes?
Shit, was he enjoying this?
“Now that’s settled, let’s eat.” My father clasped his hands together as he gazed lovingly at my mother.
Everyone at the table tucked into their meal while I toyed with mine, shifting my vegetables around the plate.
“Would you prefer it if I fed you?” A husky voice whispered in my ear. My gaze darted to my parents, who were engrossed in their own conversation.
“Burn in hell.” I managed through a fake, gritted-teeth smile.
"Been there done that, darlin’. It wasn't that enjoyable. Bet it could be with you, though." I glanced up at him, watching his eyes darken.
“Screw you.” I whispered before rising out of my seat. But before I could make my exit, his large, warm palm grasped my knee, pulling me back down. A shudder passed through me at the contact. I half expected his calloused hand to feel unpleasant but it was anything but.
“Bella, is everything okay? You seem a little jumpy.” My father leant back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he arched his brow.
“Fine! Everything is absolutely fine. I just nearly dropped my fork,” I laughed to ease his suspicion, but I wasn’t sure how much of that he truly believed.
My father nodded as I clutched my fork, trying to find the calm place in my mind, but then Arturo squeezed my leg ever so slightly.
"Good girl. Wouldn't want your father to know you like bein’ touched beneath the table, would we?" His fingers crept higher as they reached the hem of my dress, his face expressionless as he ate his dinner as if he wasn't feeling up his boss's daughter.
“Auntie Bells, Papa said I have to go to bed now. Will you come read me a story?” Theo hadn’t always perfect timing, but thankfully tonight he’d brought his A-game.
“Of course. Let’s go little man.” With relief, I forcefully removed Arturo’s hand and forced myself to rise slowly out of my chair. To my delight, Arturo’s fist clenched in his lap as I left, clearly annoyed at the interruption.
“Excuse us, everyone.” I said as Theo seized my hand in his.
“Before you go, Bells.” I groaned internally as my father wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Theo, Auntie Bella is going to be a lot busier from tomorrow, so you'll need to ask me, Papa or Nonna in future, okay?" I didn't have to glance down to know Theo felt crushed.
"Okay, Nonno ." He replied, making my heart squeeze at the sadness in his tone..
"Hey.” I froze as a voice came from behind me. Theo ducked his head around my leg to look at Arturo. “Don’t worry, she'll still have time for her favourite guy." I blanched as Theo smiled back at him, pulling his hand out of mine.
“Promise?”
“You have my word,” Arturo said in a serious tone. Theo's eyes brightened with excitement. "She'll be caught up, but I'll make sure she has spare time at bedtime. Deal?" Woah! The smug asshole actually smiles?
Theo nodded. “Deal!” With a full smile, Arturo lifted up his tattooed hand to give Theo a high five.
If he thought a few nice words passed with my nephew were enough to get into my good books, he had another thing coming.
“Get up and get dressed.” A loud voice boomed in the darkness. My covers were then ripped from my body, making me shriek. The dark figure leering over my head tsked before stating in a low, frustrated tone. “I want you in the gym in five minutes. No bloody excuses.”
I sat bolt upright, switching on my bedside lamp to face my new tormentor, all six foot four of him. Arturo. Did this guy have no boundaries? He was dressed in black shorts and a tank that displayed a beautiful canvas of never-ending tattoos, making me wonder what wasn't inked.
Shit! Focus, Isabella.
“Did you hear me, princess, or are you too preoccupied with eye fuckin’ me?” He smirked. His hands gripped the bottom of the bed as he leant towards me. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my covers and pulled them back over my head. It wasn’t even five in the morning yet. He could go screw himself.
“Go fuck yourself.” As I laid back, I couldn't help noticing how much I had enjoyed the view. I despised the idea that my thoughts were wandering into areas they shouldn't. After the count of ten in my head, I realised he hadn’t moved. Throwing back the covers with a huff, I locked my gaze on his face. From here I could smell his shower gel and it did things to me. Things it shouldn’t.
I bit my lip as I took in his tousled hair and the way the early morning light peeking through my drapes made the silver in his face shine.
I wonder what kissing someone with a lip ring would feel like .
Dear God, woman!
He’s a dick, nothing else!
"Clock's tickin’, Princess." He pushed himself from the bed and looked at his watch.
"Four minutes, but I'll reset your timer since you look so deliciously fuckable this mornin’.
" He winked as he approached the still-open door.
"Oh, and Isabella, I'll add an extra hour to the session for every minute you're late.
" With that he was gone, leaving me to scurry around the room looking for my gym wear.
“Fucking stupid asshole!” I muttered to myself as I pulled on my shorts, and sports bra. I grabbed one of my best friends' t-shirts that he’d left in my room once, and shoved it over my head.
As I walked into the home gym, Arturo stood at the entrance, his gaze darting between me and the watch. I had made it with barely a minute to spare, sneakers in hand.
“Lucky you, you get me for an additional hour.” I could tell he took great pleasure in that sentence, but I couldn’t figure out why since I was on time.
"Wait, what? Why?”
“You call that being dressed to work out? You’re not even wearing your trainers yet. And is that a fuckin’ bloke’s t-shirt?” What crawled up his ass and died?
”Not that that’s any of your business, but yes. Oh and for the record, we call these sneakers ,” I enunciated slowly.
"Take it off, now." His tone was deadly as he stepped towards me.
What was his deal?!
“You are seriously deluded if you think you have a say on what I wear.” I shoved my way past him to the treadmill.
"Oh, Isabella, try me," he growled, stalking after me, one of his strides easily matching two of my own.
“Look, pretty boy, I’m here to train, so I’d appreciate it if you keep your comments and hands to yourself.”
I had just climbed onto the treadmill when he seized the hem of my shirt and jerked it over my head from behind, tossing it on the floor.
“What the fuck?!” I whirled to see him staring at me with his arms folded.
“You had no right?—”
"See, princess, that's where you're mistaken.
" His hand slid between me and the treadmill as the warmth of his breath caressed my skin.
"I had every right." I blanched as the treadmill beneath my feet began to move. Grabbing the rails, I righted myself before starting to walk at a brisk speed. “Ten minutes, light jog. Then two minutes of sprintin’.”
“That was rude,” I huffed. I searched for a cease-fire on his face, but there was none.
There was nothing except a weird intense hunger.
“Can I at least have my shirt back?” Without blinking, he pulled the tank he wore from behind his head and tossed it at my face.
As I reluctantly yanked the thing over my head, I had to bite my cheek to refrain from staring at his tattooed chest.
I couldn’t deny it, he was beautiful. Line after line of muscle shone in the early sunlight coming through the window. The delicate ink covering every inch of his skin made my fingers itch to trace them.
“Once you’re done. I'll help you stretch. Your thighs are too tight."
Blinking, I pulled myself back to the here and now. The absolute last thing I needed was his hands on me. That would be humiliating.
"I think I can stretch by myself," I mumbled.
"I'm sure you can. But it wasn’t a request," he smiled, leaning back against the window and folding his arms again. "Now, be a good girl and do as you're told," he said.
“Look, I’ll stretch but I don’t need your help.” His lip hitched up in a brief smile before his eyes hardened.
“No.”
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” I said, turning up the speed so I was jogging. I liked running. This I could do.
“I’m helpin’ you stretch. No arguments.”
“Yeah? Well what if I refuse, huh? You gonna tattle on me to my dad?”
Arturo smirked, before his tongue flicked out to play with his lip ring. An unconscious habit I had no doubt. Shrugging he walked over and leaned on the front of the treadmill, staring into my eyes. "Isabella, if you refuse, I’ll assume that you're deliberately misbehavin’.”
I swallowed and picked up my pace. “Fine, and?”
“ And… ” he grinned. “There’ll be consequences. Choice is yours, princess."
Consequences? What the hell was that supposed to mean?