Chapter 93 Living as couples
Isabella POV
“My mom called me earlier,” I said carefully. “She told me the owner of that restaurant we went to he’s friends with my father.”
Dante didn’t smile, “He told my parents he saw me there,” I continued. “On a date. With a very attractive man.”
His expression hardened slightly, though he said nothing, “She asked who you were.” I stared down at my plate. “I didn’t tell her.”
The confession hung in the air between us, heavier than I expected and the fire continued to burn quietly beside us. “And that was the end of it?”
“She said a few other things, asked me to talk about it. I’ve always been pretty open with her about my personal life. I told her about my first crush, my first kiss stuff like that and my father has always been overbearing, but my mother has never been that way.”
“But you couldn’t talk about me to her.”
“I wouldn’t even know what to say and I hate lying to her.”
“Then don’t lie,” he said simply. “You know I can’t do that”
He took a long drink of his beer, keeping his eyes on me. “I hate being so secretive, but I have no choice, when she reminded me that she and my father would like to meet someone I’m seeing, I told her that wasn’t necessary. My father implied he would only want to meet the man I’ll probably marry and I told her you weren’t that man so hopefully, that put it to
rest.”
I drank my wine again, hoping my story was enough to persuade him that he meant nothing to me and I had to poison the well while I had a chance. When he saw that painting, I didn’t know what would happen because his expression didn’t change at all and that information didn’t mean anything to him. He drank his scotch again. “You don’t have to lie to her if you don’t want to. You could always ask me to leave and never come back.
Then there would be nothing to lie about.” He must have known I wouldn’t do that. If that were a possibility, he wouldn’t still be in my apartment,ncooking dinner and pretending everything was perfectly normal. I drank my wine again, a pathetic attempt to cover my silence. “It’s okay, baby, I’m just as addicted to you as you are to me.”
I didn’t want to go out and meet someone new. I didn’t want to picture myself with another man. All I wanted was this but he was evil and a threat to my family and everything that I cared about. How could I possibly want his company, in and out of bed? “What did you do while I was away?” I wanted to talk about anything but the obviously fucked-up situation betweennus. “I had a hit in Budapest then I went out with Rex a few times.” He cut into his food again. “How’d it go? The hit?”
“I was in and out in thirty minutes just did my job, then got paid.”
I was still repulsed by what he did for a living. I wanted to say it out loud,nbut I didn’t want him to throw out accusations that my family wasn’t any better. “Did you get hurt?”
The corner of his mouth rose in a smile. “I like it when my baby worries.”
I looked down at my food and took a bite. “Did you?”
“Don’t worry, not a scratch.”
“And where did you go with Rex?”
“A few bars.” He dropped his smile and turned serious. “Spent most of my time wondering when you would be back.”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“I was under the impression you didn’t want me to.”
I didn’t but I did. I’d wanted to call him a few times, but I refused to stoop to that level but the second I was home, I did anyway. “Did you hook up with anyone?” I hated myself for asking that question and I hated myself for
caring but I did care and it tore me up inside to think about him being with another woman.
A man like him could have any woman he wanted and he didn’t even have to open his mouth and speak, and they’d hop into bed with him. Instead of smiling in arrogance, he just a gave a subtle shake of his head. “No.”
I tried to mask the deep breath I pushed out of my lungs, but I knew nothing escaped his notice, he already knew I was jealous and insanely jealous like, red in the face kinda jealous. “I said no but good to know you still want my answer to be no.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“But you were getting pissed. It’s been three months, baby. I know you and I know you better than you want me to know you.”
I wanted to pick up my plate and throw it at his head. I hated this. I hated everything about it and I hated the fact that he was right. We finished our dinner in silence, back to our comfortable coexistence, when his plate was empty and most of my food was gone, he cleared the dishes and took them to the sink.
“I’ll wash them since you cooked.”
He didn’t give a protest and walked into the living room to turn on the TV. I scrubbed everything and put it in the dishwasher, but I despised myself for doing it now we had a routine like a fucking married couple. I grabbed one plate and slammed it into the sink, making it shatter with a bang.
He didn’t come back into the room, I stared at the broken plate and listened to the water run, he later came to my side then picked up the pieces of plate without asking what happened.
“I can take care of it.”
“I don’t want you to cut your hands you need them to paint.” He picked up everything, nicking himself without expressing a hint of pain he took care of the mess then went back into the living room so he could watch TV. I finished the dishes then returned to the living room. “We had a deal.” He sat back against the couch and stared at me with his innate power, reminding me of the agreement we’d made earlier that morning but was I stupid to hope he would forget?
He kept staring at me, waiting for me to do what he asked, I sighed through my nose, irritated that so much was going wrong. I went
to my parents’ house to clear my head, but now my mind was even more foggy. “Now.”
I wanted to slap him across the face for making the command, but since he would only enjoy it, I walked into the bedroom and picked up the painting. I didn’t unwrap it for him, wanting to make it as difficult as possible for him to see what I’d created.
I set it down next to the couch then turned for the bedroom. “Where are you going?”