37
Chiara
The light from the bathroom offers me a teasing glimpse of Angelo’s chiseled body. He has his back to me, but holy smoke, the man has buns of steel. I almost whimper at the sight of his ass before it vanishes inside a snug pair of silky black boxers. Then he turns and I die.
Angelo is not as bulky as Kane, but he’s no less muscular. My gaze tracks the sharp planes of his chest as he glances at his phone. There’s ink on his side, a complex design that I’d like to examine more closely.
My slut side wants to do a lot more than look.
She’s salivating at the way his boxers showcase a significant bulge. Hot damn. The man’s packing. Kane and Luka are both blessed in that department, but Angelo has as much if not more to offer.
My lady parts weep.
I need to close my eyes. Get some sleep. Not ogle the husband I love to hate.
When I finally drag my hungry little eyes back up Angelo’s chest, he’s watching me with a smirk on his handsome face.
“Can I help you, princess?” he purrs.
“No. All good,” I squeak before burrowing down under the covers and slamming my eyelids shut.
Not that it helps. The sight of Angelo in nothing but a pair of figure-hugging boxers is now burned onto my retinas and permanently stored in my finger vault.
Angelo laughs before ducking back into the bathroom. The light goes out a few seconds later, and then the mattress dips as he lifts the covers.
I tense, not sure what to expect. But he doesn’t touch me. Instead, he murmurs a soft “good night” and then turns away.
Long minutes pass while my brain goes into overdrive instead of switching off.
Why has Kane disappeared?
Will Lorenzo take revenge for Santini’s not-sad demise?
What will happen when everyone realizes Fina’s knocked up and Matteo is the father?
Angelo sighs.
“Try to get some sleep, Chiara.”
Easier said than done, asshole. “I’m trying!”
“Well, try harder!”
“Happy to go back to my own bed,” I huff irritably.
“No, you’re not going anywhere, princess. Not with a head injury. I don’t trust Luka to take care of you properly.”
“It must be exhausting trying to control everything.”
From his annoyed harrumph, he doesn’t appreciate being told he’s controlling, but it’s true. He is the most controlling man I’ve ever known.
I shift onto my side to face him, and even though it’s dark, my eyes have adjusted enough to see he’s watching me.
“Are we safe here?” The more I overthink everything, the more I’m worried that Lorenzo might do something insane becausehe feels threatened. Men like him don’t like being challenged, especially not by the son who’s always backed down before.
“You’re always safe with me, princess.”
It’s taken me a long time to realize he’s right. I am always safe with him.
