“Your brother likes to take me out every once in a while,” Damiano chimes in, so I don’t have a choice but to finally look at him.
Then he winks.
That flirtatious, stupid wink he does to charm everyone.
Then his gaze trails over my body with enough practiced charm to make my heart skip a beat—purely out ofannoyance, of course.
Jerk.
"Oh dear—my ex-boyfriend is dating my brother? Now that’s a scandal," I say, feigning shock.
Damiano actually laughs at my casual mention of our fake-dating ruse, but it makes Mateo shake his head.
Damiano pulls out the chair beside him, and I start to take a seat when Julian says, “I’ll be at the bar.”
“No, sit with us,” I argue.
“I’m not all that hungry yet. Just call me when it’s time to go,” he says.
“You can take the rest of the day off. I’ll take her home,” Mateo says, then he nods at me before leaving. I sigh. He’s really not trying to get along with Damiano.
“What do you want to eat,dolcezza? Carbonara?” The devil asks after a beat when the server arrives.
That freaking nickname again.
He always calls me that, and it infuriates me. Not because I don’t like it, but because I hate that I love it. Even after he broke my heart, the butterflies in my stomach resurrect every time he uses it.
“Yes, just carbonara, please,” I tell the waiter and watch him leave. When I look at Damiano, he’s already watching me.
He holds my gaze, his smile openly taunting. My mouth goes instantly dry, so I shift in my seat to hide the visible impacthe has. Never breaking eye contact, he takes the table napkin, unravels the cloth with a tug, and then, with the gesture of a perfect gentleman, places it carefully on my lap.
It’s only when Mateo clears his throat that we finally break eye contact. He glares at me, scolding me without saying a word, like an angry mom.
“Alfonso Cruz, is it?” Damiano drawls, but the taunting in his voice can't mask the underlying look of disgust on his face.
Ugh, not this.
“It’s none of your business,” I say and pull out my phone, trying to ignore him.
He chuckles bitterly before I hear Mateo ask, “Why can’t you just tell the media it’s not real?”
“Maybe we’re dating.” I lie to annoy both of them.
“Is that YouTuber bothering you again?” Mateo grumbles, like he didn’t even hear my lie. His eyes narrow as he stabs his fork into his steak.
“No. It’s fine, I don’t care. I don’t think people care about it anyway. What are you guys discussing that you have to meet here?” I say, trying to divert the conversation.
"The security for Damiano’s new club," Mateo clarifies.
“You know I can make the fucker disappear easily. Just say the word,” Damiano says through his teeth, not wanting to let the topic go. The playfulness in his eyes has vanished, replaced by a cold stillness that warns me exactly how much he hates these rumors about me.
I give him a look, and that’s when Mateo’s phone rings. He excuses himself and walks away.
“Why are you dating that pig?” he seethed as soon as Mateo was gone.
I take a calming breath before I respond, “Again, none of your business.”
“Is that it? Are you just bored?” he challenges, his tone edged with accusation.
