The Italian - Page 182

“Okay, see you.”

* * *

It’s just after 5:00 p.m. when I walk into the house from the backyard. I’ve been keeping myself busy and trying not to imagine someone creeping around our bedroom, dick in hand. I’ve run on the treadmill, done our washing, and now I’m about to cook dinner. Antonia wanted to cook, but I told her I would like to cook.

Fuck this. I want a home not a football stadium. Things are changing around here.

I pour myself a glass of wine and take the chicken out of the fridge. I begin to chop it up. On a serious note, I really need to learn how to cook some good Italian food.

And speak Italian…

And do every fucking thing in Italian.

If I prepare dinner now it will give me a chance to freshen up before my man gets home.

There is so much to do and learn. God, this day is overwhelming.

The doorbell rings throughout the house.

I wash my hands, grab a tea towel, and walk out into the living area. It rings again.

I open the door to see a beautiful woman standing there. She’s wearing a tight camel- colored dress, with sky-high stilettos. Her long dark hair is styled and glamorous. Her rich perfume is overwhelming.

It’s the woman I saw Enrico with at lunch.

His madam. Sophia.

I’m instantly aware that I look like shit, and the blood drains from my face. I’m still in my gym clothes, with a messy bun on top of my head, wearing no makeup and completely barefoot.

I fake a smile. “Hello.”

A frown crosses her face as she looks me up and down. “Hello, my name is Sophia.”

I pull my T-shirt down. “I’m Olivia.” I look down at my damp hands and the tea towel I’m holding. “Can I help you?”

A trace of a smile tugs at her lips. “I’m here to see Enrico.”

Her Italian accent is heavenly.

“Um, he’s not home yet.”

“Can I wait?”

“I don’t know how long he’s going to be.”

She brushes past me into the house. “That’s fine. I don’t mind.”

I watch her march into the house. Rude. “Or that,” I whisper under my breath.

I close the door behind her and glance out to see three men leaning up against the parked cars. They are laughing and talking without a care in the world.

I feel my agitation rise as I walk back into the kitchen. “Would you like a cup of coffee or something?”

Oh shit, why did I offer her coffee? I don’t know how to work the stupid coffee machine.

Sophia glances down at my glass of wine. “I’ll have a glass of wine.”

Will you now? The word is please, bitch.

Tags: T.L. Swan Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024