Arturo.
Doe eyes. Soft lips. Fluttering lashes that tear me in ways that I do not wish to be tested. Why does she have to be another man’s wife? Why that f*****g Salvatore? And to think she didn’t think for a second while assaulting Princess, it must mean she is willing to do anything for that f*****g mafia.
Blanket? Water? I ask, walking into the room where I put her in. It’s a waiting room and her back is turned away from me. Despite being in baggy shorts and a t-shirt, she is a silhouette from heaven and it is hard to take my eyes away from her buttocks, her hips, face.
“Why didn’t you lock me in jail?” She says, eyeing me.
“Oh, now, you hate me?“ I ask, placing a cup of coffee on the desk.
“Where is Salvatore! I don’t want a coffee!“ Lilas yells.
“Oh, my apologies. Mrs King, it
