Chapter Five: At the devil's court

Dario PoV

"Papa, meet my friend Brandy Fischer."

The words barely registered until I looked up from my newspaper.

Ventolina?

I set the newspaper down and folded my arms.

I had not expected this.

The nameless redhead who had walked into my bar with tears on her face and revenge in her eyes and disappeared before dawn.

I had ordered Rocco to find her.

I had not expected her to find me first.

But here she was.

Frozen in the doorway of my dining room. Pale as a sheet. Drowning in an oversized sweatshirt and slacks, her hair pulled back, no makeup, no armor. She looked even more breathtaking.

Leti gestured to her, "Come sit down Brandy, breakfast is getting cold."

I didn't think she was capable of movement anymore but miraculously, she took one step, then another.

Leti guided her to the chair next to mine.

“Brandy, meet my father”

I chuckled to myself. Of all the places she could have gone. Of all the people she could have known. She was here. In my house. At my table. Introduced by my own daughter as her friend.

Fate truly has a cruel sense of humor.

I extended a hand like I had not more than met her last night. “ I’m Dario Moretti,” I said with a straight face.

Brandy stared at my hand like it might bite her. Then, slowly, she took it.

Her fingers were cold. Trembling. She looked at me like she had seen a ghost.

I closed my hand around hers and pulled her in for a light hug, brushing my lips slightly against her cheek.

“Relax…You're making it too obvious” I whispered.

Her breath caught. Her eyes snapped up to mine.

I held her gaze for a beat longer than necessary before releasing her.

She sat on the edge of the chair, stiff as a board, her hands clenched at her side. She looked like she might bolt at any moment.

I smiled, watching her. I loved that she was this affected by my presence.

Good.

Leti poured her coffee. She reached for her mug too fast, and the cup tipped.

I moved without thinking.

My hand closed over hers, steadying the mug, catching the spill before it could reach her.

"Careful.” I said softly.

She pulled her hand back like she'd been burned.

“Are you okay? Leti asked, handling her a towel.

She took the towel and nodded. She seemed to have lost the ability to form words too.

This time I almost laughed out loud.

I brought my coffee to my lips watching her over the rim of the cup.

She was taller than most women. Slim. The sweatshirt swallowed her, but I remembered the curve of her waist. The softness of her hips. The way her body had responded to mine without hesitation.

I remembered everything.

And she remembered too. I could see it in the way her fingers trembled around her fork. In the way her throat moved when she swallowed. The way she refused to look at me.

She was a mess. A beautiful mess.

And I wanted her again.

Leti's phone buzzed. She glanced at it and got up, “ I’ve got to go to work”. She said, grabbing her bag.

She pressed a kiss to my cheek, then to Brandy's.

“Take a rest,” she said to her, then turned to me. "Try not to scare her away.”

“Yes ma’am” I said with a serious face.

“Good” Leti laughed and she was gone.

The door clicked shut.

Silence filled the room.

I set my coffee down and leaned back in my chair, watching Brandy.

She had stopped eating and folded her hands in her lap, her eyes fixed on the table. She didn't move. Didn't speak. I didn't think she was even breathing.

She looked like she was bracing for impact.

I waited.

She broke first.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know you were Leti's father."

I said nothing.

"I don't—" She stopped, pressing her lips together. When she looked up at me, her eyes were bright with shame. "I don't want you to think I'm the kind of woman who does that. Sleeping with strangers. Paying them. Recording—" She couldn't finish.

She took a breath.

"It was a mistake. A terrible mistake. One I hope we can forget ever happened."

I chuckled softly and rose from my seat. I stood behind her chair, close enough that she could feel the heat of me.

Then I leaned down, bracing one hand on the table beside her, caging her in.

Her body tensed.

"Brandy," I drawled, slow and deliberate.

The sound of her name made her flinch.

She turned her head, just slightly, her eyes meeting mine.

She swallowed. "Mr Moretti.." Her trembling voice stirred something in me.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the folded napkin she left with the bartender, placing it on the table in front of her.

Her face went scarlet. Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. Nothing came out.

I leaned closer, my breath warm against her ear.

"You left without saying goodbye." My voice was low. Teasing. "I haven't decided yet whether to forgive you for that.

I must admit—my ego was bruised. No woman had ever offered to pay me for sex and then slipped out in the middle of the night like I was some cheap callboy

I felt used.

But she had made quite the impression on me. Affected me in ways I didn't want to admit.

She was going to pay for that.

“What kind of punishment do you think you deserve, Brandy?” I whispered into her ear.

She drew a sharp breath.

I pressed closer, my lips brushing her earlobe softly, and a gasp escaped her.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Brandy. And bad girls deserve to be punished.”

She swallowed and parted her lips as she tried to steady herself. She was fighting to keep that stubborn composure of hers, but it was slipping.

Her chest rose and fell unevenly.

“Say it.” I lowered my voice. “Say, ‘I’ve been a bad girl, and I deserve to be punished.’”

Her eyes met mine, already hazy with the struggle to hold herself together.

“I…”

The front door burst open.

We both turned.