Chapter 4: He Is A Badass

Chapter 4: He Is A Badass 

Jessica 

I watched Adriano rub his hand and down his dark five o'clock shadow, those tattoos and man rings were enough to make me clench my legs together. He is so attractive, just his hands alone made me dripping wet.

“You can keep an eye on her.” Adriano said quietly but since his voice is deep, it comes off as a rumble.

“I will figure out something.” My brother said and that was his way of closing the topic.

Kelvin and I ended up getting into a light conversation while Adriano ignored us, especially me and when he finished his meal, he excused himself and disappeared.

“Kiddo, I have been wanting to ask you but I am not sure how to bring it up. Have you talked to mother and father at all?” My stomach lurched even at the mention of them and he knows that.

“No, not at all, not in years. Have you?” I was suddenly very uncomfortable with the idea.

“No, but I was out of the country for so long and I was busy building my career, I just don't want to miss anything important. You never exactly told me how you ended up where you were.” He glanced at me before finishing off his second glass of wine.

Is that why he was boldly bringing this up? I hadn't had wine with dinner but maybe I should have.

“Since when do we reminisce on the past? We are here now, I think we should live in that.” I said, waving at this luxurious place.

He seemed contemplative for a second but ultimately agreed it was dumb to dig up our uncomfortable past. We stood up after we had finished eating and I began to try cleaning everything up. He chuckled and stopped me.

“They will come up and do all that.” He said.

“Who are they?” I was confused.

“The kitchen staff who brought it up.” He gave me the duh face, we walked into the living room together but I kept glancing back at the mess.

“Are you sure?  I feel bad making someone clean our mess…” I frowned.

“You have to get used to this because that is how I have been living in the past years, baby sister. No more slumming it.” He nudged me playfully.

I was used to cleaning up because I tiptoed around my house growing up, making sure my presence was scarce when my father was around and in a mood. I always made sure the house was clean and my mother too, she was always tidying up and cleaning up after him and cooking for him. She put a lot of that on me when I was twelve and I still have the habit of cleaning up after myself and making myself scarce in shared space. This is going to be an interesting change of pace. It almost makes me uneasy, I feel like my brother could see into my mind while he watched me space out. Almost like he wanted to say I am not father. 

I shook all that off and excused myself for the night. I can't share an evening with him and his friend, not when his best friend ignores my presence while I can't see to feel anything but his presence. I am not going to have any friends here in Baguma, if I am being honest, I haven't had a best friend since high school and that ended poorly. I spend most of my time alone or have superficial friendships like when I would go out on weekends sometimes back in my town. Nobody close enough to text me asking if I landed safely this morning, nobody who would be close enough to buy me birthday gifts or know any intimate details about me. Sometimes, I lose my phone because it is always silent and nobody texts or calls me. Only my brother while we were long distance or on weekends when some acquaintance wanted to go out.

I don't even think they liked me as a person, I think they liked the aesthetic of me if that makes any sense. That is the way the city was especially with fashion folks, image is everything. I don't even own any sweatpants, not even pajamas. My father loathed the slob look to the point that even my nightwear was silk pajamas set and things of that nature. Not that I could leave my room with that on either, the city didn't feel so odd to me because I think the place might be run by narcissists. 

I know sweatpants, sweatshirt must be so comfortable but I just didn't have that luxury. But now, I want to rebel and go buy sweatpants. My life is weird.

***

On my first night here, I quietly read a book alone in my room and my phone never rang, nobody in the house called for me. Alone, my normal life. I am not going to be living with Adriano Caputo for a whole month, will I even survive it? Even here in the bed, I kept picturing his handsome bone structure and built frame. How dark his hair really is and how startlingly beautiful his eyes are in comparison. A blue like none other, unique to his perfectness. I kept picturing him standing at the end of those stairs in a wide stance with bedroom eyes that weren't sht to look at me from head to toe. But never looked at me again, why?

I am sure it was because he is entirely unimpressed, he is sexy and manly and I am.. ugly. I wish I was in the league, I like his dark aura. Although I know I probably shouldn't. He is so rich and I wanted to know everything about and at the same time, I wanted to hide from him. He is mysterious and tall, dark and handsome. Isn't that recipe for disaster? Probably but no harm in curiosity. I am sure all women are curious about him, I know him and my brother must run around with a hundred women all over Baguma for their wealth and good looks, I don't even want to know.

My mind shut up when I heard the echo of a deep voice in either conversation with my brother or on the phone. He was too far away for me to understand the words but then I heard the footsteps and oddly my heart rate picked up with every approaching step. When I heard him walk past my room and into his, I wondered what it looked like inside there or if he would bring any woman here this week. I hope not because if I heard him fucking another woman, I think I would die. He is my brother's friend, I shouldn't have wanted to picture him baked but I already pictured him naked and I don't know how many tattoos he actually has. But my imagination tells me there are a lot and that only makes him more badass than he already seems. A man of few words is usually a man who knows the worth of what he was saying.

I have see the kind of men who talks too much, my father was one of them. He always sought the attention in his group of impressive friends and made them laugh as they drank their scotch and smoked their cigarettes. My father is also a handsome man, so it wasn't only the males in the room who paid attention to him, he was loud and talkative and he showed off.

Adriano is silent, still not at all trying to show off. He didn't ask if I liked his expensive home or brag about his empire. I can't tell if that makes him more or less dangerous than my father, a man who doesn't feel obligated to show his power is a deadly man especially when he happens to know he is army special forces trained. So that takes a whole new meaning to danger. My brother too, although it isn't the same.

Adriano Caputo is a shade darker.