Isabella
Luca walks through the front door as I am descending the stairs and the moment his eyes land on me, his eyebrows furrow. He passes his gaze down my white shirt and tight beige miniskirt, then moves his eyes back to lock them with mine. I smirk and lean my hip on the banister, enjoying the look of displeasure that passes his face. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly climbs the stairs and stops on the step below me.
“I thought I picked the navy dress for you today, Isabella,” he says and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into his body. “Did I not?”
“You did.” I tilt my head up and smile, “But I wanted to see what would happen if I didn’t do what you said. Maybe I was looking forward to being . . . punished for my misbehavior.”
The corner of Luca’s lips curves up and
