He is a force to be reckoned with. A lift of his finger & people are beheaded in seconds. A word from him & the streets of NY are bathed in blood. Any evil deed, you name it & he has done it. Vicious, nefarious, brutal & downright cruel. Majestic in...
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Anastasia's POV~
"You!" My eyes widen like saucers looking at the man at my doorstep.
What is he doing here?
Before I can voice out my thoughts he shoves past me and locks the door.
Turning around I am faced with a dangerous looking Alessandro. He looks ready to kill someone. Maybe me.
"Who the fuck was he?" his voice roars through the small living room.
We have met after weeks and that is the first thing he says? Weird.
I just furrow my eyebrows in return, not understanding a bit.
He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath as if to calm himself then opens them again.
"Who. Was. He?" He pronounces each word with a certain edge to it.
"Who was who?"
"The boy who was clinging to you." He is gritting his teeth now.
Clinging to me? Is he asking about Rodie? How did he know?
I think about confirming but then looking at his face I decide against it.
"I don't know who you're talking about." I avoid eye contact while saying this, crossing my arms over my chest.
"I will count to one and you're gonna answer like a good Angel."
This makes me turn my gaze to him.
"You do not count to one. That is cheating." I whisper-yell, not wanting to wake up anyone.
"Not when I make the rules." He takes out one of his hands from his pocket and looks at the watch as if he needs to check it to count a single second. "So...one."
Bloody cheat.
"He is my boyfriend." I say at the same time as he finishes his so called counting.
Two can play this game Mr.
His eyes snap back to mine from his watch. "Do not even go there Angel. I know you do not have a boyfriend. I was your first kiss. You told me yourself."
"I lied." I say, shrugging carelessly.
That seems to tick him off completely. He clenches his jaws and stalks towards me like a predator, making me back away hurriedly as I hit the wall behind. He stops at a mere distance, the bridge of our noses brushing with each inhale. He puts both of his hands on the wall, on either side of my head, blocking my way to escape.
He is breathing through his nose in anger, the air coming out of them hitting my face, heating up my features.
If one of us moves now, just two point five millimeter, we will be kissing.
