The Mafia And His Angel: Part 2 (Tainted Hearts 2)

I shivered under his intense gaze. Lyov and Isaak weren’t staying in the estate, and I barely saw them. But whenever they were here and we came across each other, I always felt their eyes on me, watching me. Sometimes, it felt like they could see the real me, like they knew who I really was.

I could see and feel the distaste in Lyov’s gaze. He hated me, although I didn’t understand why.

Quickly looking down, I avoided looking into their eyes and hurried into the kitchen. Whenever they were in the house, I stayed far away. As far as I could, without drawing attention to myself.

“Poor cake, though. It got spoiled on her ugly face. The cake didn’t deserve it.” Maddie’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I looked down at the mess.

“Do you think Lena will be mad?” I asked, pushing the thought of Lyov to the back of my mind.

“Oh, I don’t think. I know Mom will be mad.”

Uh oh.

Chapter 19

My eyes were locked on the bathroom’s door. Alessio was in there, taking his shower.

A few minutes later, I heard the shower turn off. And then there was silence.

The silence only made my palms started to sweat, and I rubbed them over my nightdress. The door opened a few seconds later, and Alessio walked out, wearing only black sweatpants.

His eyes were instantly on me, and when he noticed me looking, they twinkled almost teasingly. Walking closer, he stopped next to the bed, his big body looming over me.

My gaze followed a path down his chest, his ripped abs and then slightly below, but my head quickly snapped up when I saw the noticeable bulge.

Alessio chuckled while I glared at his chest, refusing to look into his eyes when my cheeks heated in embarrassment.

“So how is this going to work?” His voice was low and deep. I gripped the comforter to stop myself from reaching out to him.

“What?” I looked up to see him nodding toward the bed.

“We are not supposed to touch. How are we going to sleep?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

Oh. Right.

I glanced at the couch in the corner of the room and smiled. “You can sleep on the couch.”

Alessio glanced at it, then back at me again, his expression filled with surprise. “You are seriously kicking me out of my own bed?”

“You said it’s our bed. So I get to decide too, right?” I batted my eyelashes up at him innocently, trying to put up the most innocent face I could muster.

Alessio simply glared as he walked over to the couch, throwing his towel on the coffee table in agitation. I watched his shoulders tense, and the smile on my face slipped.

I was being unfair. It didn’t matter if we called it our room; this was still his room. Making him sleep on the couch wasn’t reasonable. Or nice, either.

With a sigh, I started to get out of the bed. “I should go to my room,” I suggested quietly.

Alessio’s eyes widened, and he snapped, “No.”

He pointed at the bed, glaring at me in the process. “Get back in there,” he ordered. “I’d rather have you in the same room and not touch you than have you in the other room, so far away from me.”

“Alessio—” I started but never got a chance to explain before he cut me off.

“No. There is no my room or yours. This bed is as much yours as it is mine. It’s ours. This is your room now. Got it?” he replied, his words punctuated as if he wanted me to understand and never doubt what he was saying. “So get that pretty ass of yours back in bed and go to sleep.”

I lost the fight and sat on the edge of the bed, still feeling a little guilty. My eyes were cast down, but I heard Alessio’s audible sigh, and he quickly approached the bed. He stopped in front of me, and I stared at his feet.

When his hands came to rest on the mattress, on either side of my hips, caging me in, I had no choice but to look up in his eyes. “Stop thinking so hard, Angel,” he soothed quietly.

Angel. My heart melted at the word, and I smiled. Alessio leaned forward, his forehead just mere inches from mine, but we didn’t touch. We were so close, yet not touching. All I had to do was lean the slightest bit forward and we would be touching.

But neither of us moved.

“Good night,” he whispered.

“Good night,” I replied just as softly.

He still didn’t move, and neither did I. And when he finally did, I could see the disappointment in his eyes, and I felt my own, my chest aching as he stepped away.

That small moment between us had lasted shorter than we wanted.

“I want to kiss you so bad right now, Ayla,” he confessed. His words sent a shiver down my body. I wanted that, too. But we both knew we couldn’t just simply kiss. It would lead to more, and we wouldn’t be able to stop ourselves.