Chapter 90 Rags and Ritches 31

Chapter 90 Rags and Ritches 31
Aria

Men were fucking fools. And the more important and powerful the man, the bigger fools they were. Dante had expected me to run as far as I could to get away from him. And I had, for the first few days. I’d dumped the car, and promptly bussed right back into the city. Right opposite one of his buildings. The one he went to several times a week. 

I was right under his nose and not once did he or his men look into the window of the diner and spot me serving. 

So yeah, fools.

He was too busy searching the world for me that he couldn’t see me right under his nose.

I saw him though. I saw and I watched and I fucking planned because as much as I enjoyed watching his cheeks grow hollow and the life leave his eyes, I wanted him to hurt more.

I wanted revenge.

“Ria?” I turned, a blush heating my cheeks because I had been standing to the corner of the window, two heaped piles of pancakes in my hands and watched as he stalked from his car to the building, his shoulders hunched.

He had been gone for two whole weeks, and it had made me nervous. Was he moving on?

And why the hell did that bother me so much? I wanted him gone from my life. I didn’t want to be his wife, because that meant I was his property. Him taking another woman to his bed, should have put my mind at ease. It would have set me free. Except -

Again I shook myself, turning and forcing a smile on my face. “Sorry I was miles away.”

Millions of miles away in fact. Keeping the polite but cold grin on my face, I served. And then quickly went around the refill coffee.

It was only when I headed back to the counter that I let my eyes wander back outside again.

“He’s not someone you should want Ria.” The other waitress said softly, nudging my shoulder with hers and drawing my attention to her.

“Who?” Tearing my eyes away from the window I studied her. 

“Dante Ritches, or which ever of his men that had got you panting after them.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” I hunched my shoulders.

Shaking her head she chortled. “Of course you don’t. But I’ve spotted you staring at him and believe me when I say you don’t want to go there.” Looping an arm around my shoulders, she squeezed me to her. “Dante is bad news.”

Oh I knew that better than anyone. “Yeah I heard that. He’s cute though right. For a mafia guy.” 

Out of the corner of my eye I gauged her reaction. Layla was at least twenty five years older than me. She was also my friend and roommate. Having offered me her spare box room when I had turned up begging for a job.

“He’s Dante.” She shrugged. “Cute or not, he's married.”

I turned to her, a look of shock perfectly settled on my face. “He is? I’ve never seen his wife?”

Was I fishing for information, yes. Yes I was.

She lowered her voice. “I heard his wife is some Mafia princess. And-“ she glanced out the window and following her gaze I saw Dante step back into the street. “She ran away from him.”

He was looking left and right. Almost like he could feel someone watching him. Did he know it was me? Could he feel my presence like I always seemed to feel his.

I hated him.

But I hated that I wanted him more.

“Well I’m sure a man that looks like that has already got a string of women warming his bed.” I croaked out bitterly. What the hell was wrong with me? Angrily I grabbed a cloth and began cleaning down the already spotless counter.

“You would think so.” Laylas wise eyes followed the movement. “But rumour is he isn’t interested in anyone else. He’s been searching for his bride. Just got back from London. Don’t know what that girl did to him but he’s got it bad. She must be some hell of a woman.”

I couldn’t help but pause. I couldn’t help the smile that twitched at my lips either. “Yeah she must be. I’m curious how you know all of this though. Those guys never come in here.”

I had wondered about that. 

“We deliver to them.” She shrugged. “It was a deal that was made years ago because of the amount of kids and families we get in here. Dante is many things but he has a thing about not hurting women and kids.”

She continued to stare at me.

“He seems like an upstanding member of the underworld.” I muttered sardonically.

Layla's eyes narrowed. “Ria, can I ask you something?”

I went perfectly still. I’d asked too many questions and she had grown suspicious. Fuck. 

“Sure.” I scrubbed at a mark that wasn’t there. “Ask away but you don’t need to worry. I like the look of him, that's all. He’s pretty.” I tried for lightheartedness. “I’m not going to throw myself at him.”

Layla didn’t blink. “Didn’t think you were. I know you're smarter than that.”

Well I didn’t know about that. Sure I wasn’t going to throw my body at him again but I might just throw a bullet or two when the time was right. 

Not that I could tell her that.

“Are you pregnant?”

My mouth swung open. I whirled around on her. “Of course not. What makes you ask?”

What a wild thing to ask.

“Because you’ve been living with me for close on three months Ria, we share a bathroom and not once have I seen sanitary products in the bin. And then there’s the fact you-“ she motioned to my stomach.

My eyebrows slammed down. “Are you calling me fat?” I was curvy, always had been.

“You know full well I’m not. But you have a little bump aria and you haven’t been eating enough for you be putting weight on. So I’ll ask again, is there any chance you are carrying a baby?”