“I will. Sorry, sir,”she says as she closes herself in the bathroom.
What the fuck is that? Sir? I know that coming from her, she’s probably making fun of my age. But she knows that at the surface-level it’s a respectful thing to say.
And in the right context…
She’s testing me. The fear that I saw earlier has vanished.
I get out of bed and check my living room. I don’t know what I’m expecting to see—a rope hanging off the balcony for her to traverse down tonight, an open bottle of poison in my kitchen. But nothing looks out of place.
I slink back into bed before she’s finished getting ready. She steps out of the bathroom wearing short pink shorts and a plain t-shirt. I watch her toned legs walk the length of my bedroom as she smirks again,then tosses her things haphazardly into my closet.
“Put those away. In your suitcase or in the laundry,” I bark out a command, annoyed with her attitude.
She jolts at that; my voice must have carried more than I intended. But she does as I say and then avoids eye-contact asshe slips into bed underneath the sheets. I let out a sigh, already exhausted from that exchange.
I turn off the lamp, leaving only a faint light coming from the window. The sound of the ceiling fan hums above us.
I should be thrilled. We successfully captured Sofia, and Vincenzo became gravely injured. My mind still can’t wrap around that. Who knows, he could wake up unscathed, but if not…
I just need to avoid getting stabbed by Sofia in the middle of the night.
My palms sweat.
She was in the bathroom for an awfully long time. Her shirt is baggy, and she could have concealed anything before getting into bed.
I flip onto my side, my mind racing. Were all the knives in the knife block? How the hell did I not think to check that when I went out there?
Her over the top fear of blood. What if that is all a ruse? A lie to make her seem weaker than she is.
Clearly, her family knew of our plan ahead of time with how things transpired this afternoon.
And she’s been training herself physically her entire life. Sure, I’m stronger than she is, but not when I’m sleeping. She canstab me right in the chest and run for probably hours at a time without tiring.
Unable to bear it anymore, I flip on the lamp, expecting to be looking down the barrel of a gun.
Instead, she’s fast asleep—I can’t fathom falling asleep that quickly. She’s not even in a safe environment, for fuck’s sake.
Testing her, I peel back the layer of blankets.
Still sleeping.
“Sofia?” I whisper her name, seeing if she’ll stir or if her eyes snap open. But nothing. I watch as her chest heaves heavy, sleepy breaths.
Deciding she’s out cold and that I’m an exceptionally paranoid person, I lift her shirt—just enough to check she’s not concealing anything. But all I can see is her toned stomach breathing in and out.
I’ve never been with an athletic woman like this before. I didn’t think I’d be into it, but I find the contradictions fascinating—her muscles toned and chiseled in some places with a womanly softness in others. She really is beautiful…
Her breathing suddenly stops.
I drop her shirt, making eye-contact with a pair of fiery-brown eyes.
“What the hell are you doing!?”
I shoot back away from her and hold my hands up in surrender, feeling guilty for getting caught looking. Then I realize I have to gain control of the situation and lean forward as she scowls at me, keeping my voice even. “I was simply checking for weapons. I thought you were going to kill me. ”
“Kill you? I was… I was fucking sleeping!” She looks me up and down. Her eyes narrow. “What did you do?”
I repeat. “You were acting strange. So, I checked to make sure you didn’t bring any weapons into bed. That’s it.”
