Page 27 of Fatal Sloth
“Hey man, are you coming to Diavolo tonight?” Enzo's voice crackles through the line.
Fuck! I hadn't even considered going out tonight. It’s not like me to stay home on a Saturday night, even if it is my wedding day. Enzo knows the truth about this arrangement, so it's not like I couldn't go out tonight.
Before I can respond, Mia's cries pierce through the hallway. Her voice trembles as she begins apologizing, her words turning into a desperate scream.
I give Enzo a quick “no” before ending the call and walking back into the room. Should I wake her up? Watching the sweat bead on her forehead, I realize this isn’t normal. Unsure of what to make of this fucked-up night, I climb into bed beside her, pulling her close in a protective embrace.
"I've got you," I whisper, hoping my words can bring her some comfort.
What the hell has la piccola ballerina been through?
After a while, her breathing steadies as she drifts back to sleep. I keep her in my arms a little longer, making sure she's fully asleep.
But as I hold her, a flood of thoughts rushes through my mind. What has she been through to haunt her sleep like this? Why does she feel so good in my arms, too good? And why do I feel this overwhelming need to protect her?
Holding a woman isn't like me, I admit. I'm not one to show so much concern for anyone, let alone my wife of a few hours. But here I am, lying in bed, not getting laid, comforting her because she's having a nightmare.
Who the hell am I? I've been married for less than twelve hours, and I'm already turning into a pussy.
After lying with her for a little longer than I should have, I reluctantly untangle myself from her warm body and head to my office. As I settle into my chair, I make a mental note to bring up her nightmares later. Ignoring Enzo’s texts and calls, I sit behind the big oak desk, replaying how fucked today was.
Then, the urge to sneak upstairs for the third damn time tonight hits me, and I can't help but feel a surge of frustration building inside me. Every time I try to get some peace, there's always some bullshit that needs my attention. But as I peek into the bedroom and see Mia sleeping peacefully, a sense of calm washes over me.
She looks beautiful lying there, her chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. The soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains casts a gentle light on her face. She's beautiful, I can't deny that. A bitter laugh escapes my lips as I think about how crazy this is.
Married, who the hell would have thought?
Heading back downstairs, I'm surprised to hear noises coming from the kitchen. It takes me a moment to realize that it's already morning, and Roman is bustling about, preparing breakfast.
Typically, at this hour, I'd either be coming home or just passing out, so I hadn't realized they got up this early. But with Mia here, it makes sense. They probably wouldn't expect me for breakfast.
As I turn to lock eyes with Marie, I notice her quickly schooling her expression as she continues to set the table, laying out flowers.
When have there ever been fresh flowers in my house?
"Good morning, Don Sebastiano," she greets me, her tone too chipper for this hour.
"Morning," I reply, my tone flat, as I take my seat at the head of the table. Marie moves around the kitchen, bringing a fresh pot of coffee to the table and pouring me a cup. I take a big sip, relishing the way the dark liquid burns my throat just before my stomach lets out a loud growl. It's nearly 7 a.m., and it dawns on me that I haven't eaten since yesterday.
It isn't long before Roman starts placing the food on platters as if he's catering for the entire damn Mafioso. But I stay silent, not bothering to ask why he's cooking up a storm, breakfast fit for an army, and instead return to my coffee, taking another sip as I contemplate whether to try going back to bed or waiting until after I eat. The warmth of the coffee soothes my tired mind, but the aroma of the food clogs my senses, making the decision too difficult to make so early in the morning.
Then, just as I'm contemplating my next move, my stomach growls again in protest as I read the last message from Enzo, anchoring me to my seat. It's then that I hear her voice, soft and gentle, saying "good morning" as she takes the seat to my left.
And in this moment, she takes my breath away.
Mia is wearing a simple cream-colored dress that falls to her knees, with little makeup. She looks nothing like she did yesterday.
My train of thought shifts when I see her take the smallest scoop of eggs on her plate. There is a massive spread on the table, and she takes a bite of eggs and nothing else. Is la piccola ballerina on a hunger strike? That thought alone pisses me off. I can't fathom why she would deprive herself like this, especially after I told her she could have her freedom and leave after Dad passes the title. She's not stuck here. So, I take it upon myself to remind her that it’s okay to eat, but I nearly spit my coffee out at her comment.
“You can't just shove your sausage in my mouth like that,” she protests, her words sending a jolt of excitement through me. All the blood rushes south, and all I can think of is sticking my dick in her plush lips. But then I notice her blush while a mischievous grin tugs at the corners of my lips. It seems she's not as innocent as she lets on. Unable to resist, I decide to push her buttons a little more, enjoying the sight of her squirming in her seat. However, before I can take it any further, we're interrupted, and I have to rein in my impulses.
Why the fuck is he here so early?
This can't be good! My mind races to the worst possible scenarios until I hear her excuse herself to change her clothes. Now I'm really sporting a hard-on, and the thought of her taking her dress off only makes me harder.
Fuck, I need to get it together.
Enzo and I retreat to my office to discuss the missing shipments, but the conversation keeps going back to Mia. He can't seem to shut up about me being married and staying in last night, which apparently led to him staying in as well. Despite his constant gibbering, he managed to review the CCTV feed again and has a lead to chase regarding the shipments. After listening to his yapping for what feels like an eternity, Enzo heads off to pursue his lead, leaving me to head upstairs and pass the fuck out, exhausted.