Chapter 4 uncomfortably

Bianca

I never thought I would be looking forward to attending school, but being on a personal holiday had really taken a toll on me.

So much so that I was now excited to go to school.

Saint Simon's College Institute was arguably the worst place on earth.

Yes, it was a prestigious institute where affluent figures sent their kids to study before they were sent off to Ivy League schools, but to me, it was yet another daily reminder of just how much of a failure I was.

Not only was I held back a year for my poor grades, but I wasn't much of a social butterfly.

But that was besides the point. Today, I was excited, and it all had to do with the fact that a certain handsome Italian man was taking me.

I spent a long time getting ready, making sure my full morning routine was complete. I prided myself on self-care, and my luxurious bathroom made it so much easier.

I never wasted time and expensive products on doing my makeup for school, of all places, but today was an exception. A little bit of mascara, concealer, and lip gloss went a long way, while I just let my hair fall in its naturally loose waves.

Luckily, I didn't need to spend time on my outfit, seeing as I wore a uniform-one that I had tailored to my liking. Finishing the look with a pair of Mary Janes and white socks beneath, I smiled at my reflection. I looked nothing short of a perfect little angel.

Deception was so much fun.

Grabbing my tote bag, I exit my room and move towards the big black doors at the end of the hall, eager to greet the Italian Adonis.

I knock once, then twice, then wait.

"Alessio," I call and still get no response. Perhaps he was still asleep. I glance down at my watch; we still had 20 minutes before we had to leave so if I woke him now, we wouldn't be late.

And so with that in mind, I open the door and walk into the room.

Damn, my bedroom was nice, but this?

This room was fit for a king. About twice the size of mine, Alessio's room was filled with dark colors ranging from dark browns to blacks to various shades of grey.

His bed, which looked fit for a whole football team, was endless and sat on one end of the massive room, while the other end was adorned with a grand fireplace, a wet bar, and a seating area. Two royal-looking wingback chairs occupied the sitting area along with a couch.

I took my time sweeping the area before making my way over to his perfectly made bed and slumping down on it. I can hear the shower running from behind one of the numerous doors, so I simply flop down onto my stomach and wait.

I preoccupied myself with my phone, kicking my feet up behind me and looking through my notifications. Giggling and smiling at all the thirsty messages from men.

I never entertained them, but I guess I loved the attention and craved the validation.

It was only when the sound of cursing and screaming in Italian sounded that I stopped and looked up, my jaw falling to the floor at the sight before me.

Never had I ever seen a man so perfectly built. Like Adonis himself, with rippling muscles across his back, shoulders, and arms that flexed as Alessio turned and spoke into the phone.

I tried to ignore the foul language, but his voice boomed angry insults in Italian at the man on the other end for his inability to do his job right, and I think I even heard him threaten to chop off a limb.

But I brushed it off, because here before me through the ajar door stood Alessio in what appeared to be a large bathroom at the vanity, shaving his face in nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

Heat pooled low in my stomach, and I couldn't look away from the perfect man. His hair was wet and clung to his forehead, and from my position, I could make out his reflection in the mirror, and even with his face set in a scowl and jaw clenched, he was damn fine.

The nasty and terrifying threats spilling from his lips were long forgotten, along with the fear of his intimidation, as it was replaced with pure carnal desire.

Never had I been so enraptured by a sight, let alone one of a man. But the sight of Alessio's strong, lean body and the way the muscles in his biceps flexed as he held the phone to his ear had my breath catching.

And then he shifted slightly, allowing me to see the reflection of his front in the mirror. It felt so wrong to peek, but I couldn't look away.

All the way from the ridges of muscle on his strong arms with veins running down them to his torso where a tattoo lay with a set of prominent abs, he was staring right back at me.

I couldn't tell if it was a six or an eight pack, but whatever it was, I didn't worry too much about it because my attention naturally drifted down south to the most prominent part of him.

A faint trail of hair was positioned in the center of the strong ridges of his V-line. I followed the path of the trail until it disappeared under the fabric of the white towel loosely wrapped around his hips.

I couldn't look away. I tried to pry my eyes away and stop the inappropriate thoughts about just how much his natural bulge stuck out beneath the towel, but I couldn't.

This man was packing.

He was so consumed in his conversation that when he turned to showcase the tan skin on his muscular back, I could make out scratches that looked to be claw marks.

Claw marks that looked relatively fresh, and I highly doubted they were from him.

An instant pool of jealousy swam through me, and I wanted to throw my phone across the room and storm out, but I knew that it was ridiculous, for I had only met this man yesterday.

Of course, someone as powerful and attractive as Alessio would have women throwing themselves at him.

But then my jealousy was soon replaced with content as I remembered what Liam had told me.

Alessio was cold, rude, and emotionless. He may have fucked women, but did he smile at them? Call them Princess? Or make sure they felt safe?

No.

I then understood, unlike the women he fucks and dumps, I had a better advantage. A much more powerful one if I played my cards right.

And so with a smile on my face, I turned away from the ajar door to give him his privacy and began plotting on how I was going to get what I wanted.

. . .

Alessio was finished approximately seven minutes later, and I only knew because I stopped hearing curses in Italian that even I didn't know.

And when he did come out, I made sure to hold my chin in my palms, crossing my ankles behind me to stop them from swinging back and forth in mid-air, while plastering a sweet smile on my lips.

I bet I looked irresistible.

He walks out now clad in only a pair of white briefs, too distracted by using the towel in his hand to dry his hair to notice me.

I sneak a peek down at his muscular thighs, my gaze naturally drifting a little higher before my cheeks heat and I snap my eyes away, grateful that he has yet to notice me.

Yep. He was packing.

My focus returns to my phone, and the cool air hitting the skin of my thighs from where my skirt rode up sends goosebumps through me.

I'd quickly learned that I was a sight no man could pass up. Even the teachers at my school weren't expecting that, for I had caught their wandering eyes and lustful looks since I'd first hit my growth spurt in ninth grade.

At first, some of the comments from some teachers about my looks, especially in my school uniform, were uncomfortable. But I quickly found myself craving that attention.

"Morning!" I chirp, looking up to see Alessio's head snap up as his eyes widen. Immediately, the towel in his hand goes to wrap the towel back around his waist.

He stares at me in shock, but then in an instant, it turns into something resembling annoyance and frustration. His jaw ticks like he's trying to control it.

"What are you doing in here?!" He snaps, walking away from me and disappearing behind another door. One, I presume, is his closet.

I sit up, furrowing my brows at how he didn't even look at me like those other men did; instead, he seemed upset with me.

He emerges a second later, only now dressed in slacks and a white button-up, his hands doing up the last few buttons on the shirt. "You cannot just barge into my bedroom when you please. And you certainly can't sit on my bed." His jaw ticks, and I can see just how much he's trying to calm himself down.

He stands up straighter, squaring his shoulders while looking down at me. "Get off." His tone is cold, so different from the kind man from yesterday, and I find myself instantly regretting my actions.

I wanted that sweet man, not this mean one.

I was scared of this version of him. I stand up and straighten out my clothes, instantly rushing to defend myself. "I-I knocked, but you wouldn't come out, and we were going to be late."

His eyes narrow into slits as he gives me a bemused look. "Late?" He snaps before his eyes scan my uniform-clad figure. Realization crosses his features while disappointment fills mine.

He forgot.

"Cazzo," He curses, pinching the bridge of his nose before sighing out. "I was supposed to take you today, wasn't I?"

I nod slowly, shifting uncomfortably.