Chapter 33: The highs and lows with Stefano

POV: Beatrice

My eyes settled on the man who, until a few days ago, was practically a stranger. Across the room, Stefano was on the sofa, sitting next to his son, helping Davide form a few words since he was unoccupied enough to do that after having made me clean up the whole garden where we had dinner yesterday.

I was still struggling with the needle to sew up the small tear in one of Davide's clothes, remembering why I had resorted to working as a luxury escort, because I was terrible at manual labor. After all, I wasn't the richest girl in Palermo, but I wasn't the poorest either, so it was common for my father to take care of things or hire someone so that his only daughter didn't have to worry about almost anything.

Becoming a luxury escort was Alisha's suggestion because of my desperation when I found myself without a father for my son, when I realized that I needed to get something fast that didn't require anything other than my appearance and ability to dress and behave well. It was enough to imitate a few lessons with videos from the Internet, and there I was, finding a way out that seemed easy. It wasn't easy; the first few months were the worst, especially when I found out what I needed to do to stay in business, when I discovered that, in fact, a few videos hadn't prepared me at all for all this.

My father never knew; he thought it was an ordinary job in a diner at night, followed by a stay at my best friend's house. After all, he was getting busier and busier with his own things, and he seemed too worried and distressed, and he tried to notice or to fight with me too much when I had no choice but to tell him about Davide and say that Dad had left. The signs were there, more and more evident, getting worse and worse, and I still tried to fool myself into thinking that he was just using his job to take his mind off the loneliness he had felt since my mother had left us to live with another man when I was not even a year old.

 Stefano was still there when I forced myself to put my thoughts aside. His hands were impatiently touching Davide's, trying to guide him because Davide couldn't do it on his own. Although he didn't know how to be a father, Stefano was making a visible effort. I wasn't sure if he was doing it for his own intentions or if he was unconsciously trying to be a better person for his son. 

I could see Stefano's intelligence when his lips pronounced words in different languages, forcing my son to repeat them. He was trying to teach him in the most traditional and boring way possible, but even so, I couldn't get enough of listening to him. My mind went back to the night before, still feeling the goosebumps that his cock had left in my memory. I remembered how my legs gave way in his presence.

Why had Stefano never taken his shirt off? What had happened to make it so difficult for him to have sex with me, looking into my eyes? I hated him, but only when I wasn't in his bed. Between his sheets and his touches, I could almost say that Stefano was the man of my dreams. But then reality returned, and I remembered exactly who he was and that the only reason I gave in to him physically was the lack of sex. Stefano was right when he said I was insatiable.

I threw the fabric aside, giving up on it, aware that Stefano could buy clothes for Davide.

"Davide needs a bath," I said, preventing the boy from continuing to be tortured by Stefano. He remained silent, and Davide understood and stood up for me. Stefano looked up at me, taking a deep breath.

"It's time Davide started bathing himself," he said, getting up and coming towards me.

"He's not old enough, Davide needs help." I tried to argue, but Stefano interrupted me.

"The boy is intelligent; you have to stop protecting him like this; after all, he has to be a man as soon as possible. Go upstairs and do your stuff, I'll take care of it."

"He'll never be your replacement, Stefano," I whispered even closer to him, preventing Davide from hearing. There we were arguing again. "You're lucky; I don't want our son to see us fighting, but know that you're sick," I said calmly, even though I wanted to shout at Stefano.

"Save your saliva, ragazza. Use it only to moan about my penis," he retorted, grabbing Davide's forearm and making him follow him.

**-------**

I let my clothes slide on the freshly cleaned bathroom floor. I hung up the soft towel and undid the bandages that covered my scratches from last night. With the room now organized, after having messed it up in search of a more suitable garment than pajamas to spend the day in, I could try to relax, although I felt guilty that I couldn't protect my own son now. My cheeks flushed with anger as I remembered his overbearing demands.

I tried to banish the frustrations from my mind and went into the bathroom. The hot, invigorating water started to run down my body, relieving the pressure that had built up. The warm mist that formed in the room enveloped me, and I could almost feel a little more relieved when suddenly an electric crack echoed through the room and the current abruptly ceased. The feeling of frustration came over me once again, the shower had decided to sabotage me too. I took a deep breath, opened the glass and tried to examine the shower, hoping for a temporary solution. However, I had no idea how to solve it. I sighed resignedly, wrapped myself in the towel again with my hair dripping, combed my wet hair with my fingers, and looked in the mirror. Stefano wasn't in his room, I couldn't hear him there. I walked down the corridor, noticing that the house was strangely quiet, this time with almost no guards outside or around; the place was silent. I headed towards Stefano's office and didn't make a point of knocking.

Stefano raised his eyes to me, a phone over his ear, while his posture was perfectly set in the chair behind his desk. He analyzed me as if undressing me with his eyes.

"One second, Giovanni," he said, typing something before he was totally focused on me, moving millimeters up to my eyes, like a permission slip for me to speak.

"The shower in my suite burned out... I haven't found any of your men, I wish one of them could fix it," I said, turning away before my breathing began to change.

My eyes, which could now see the whole place, wandered around somewhat curiously when I found his bathroom. My eyes opened even wider when I saw that the glass separating the shower from the space was completely transparent, allowing Stefano to have a clear view of the inside of the bathroom even when sitting on his chair.

"My men are not your servants, ragazza."

"I can't go without a shower," I said, turning to him again. 

"You can use the one right behind you."