Todos os capítulos de My Pretty Dirty Kitten : Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

GiannaI stand across from Braide while he leans lazily against the dresser, his attention glued to his phone like whatever’s on that screen is far more interesting than the girl currently rearranging her life into a hotel room.I roll my eyes and shove another stack of clothes into the drawer harder than necessary. The cheap wood rattles under the impact.Maybe renting a hotel room wasn’t the smartest idea.But it’s the only one that will keep me safe from my own self-destructive emotions.The room smells faintly like lemon cleaner and stale air-conditioning. Everything feels temporary. Unfamiliar. Safe.Or at least safer than Dmitry.“You know,” Braide says from behind me, his voice casual in a way that immediately irritates me, “hiding away is only going to make Dmitry want you more.”My hands freeze halfway through folding a shirt.Of course he would say that.I slowly drop the shirt into the drawer before turning slightly.Calling him this morning had felt like the smartest decis

Gianna Shit. Shit. I’m screwed. I step out of the bathroom and nearly jump out of my skin when I come face to face with my intruder. “What the fuck are you doing here!?” I shriek, my voice bouncing off the hotel walls as heat rushes to my face. Braide stares at me like I’ve suddenly grown eight heads. “What do you mean?” he says slowly. “I came to apologize.” My heart is still racing from the call, the phone warm in my hand. “Okay,” I snap. “Apologize and leave.” His eyes narrow slightly as he studies me. Then his gaze drifts past my shoulder… to the bed. Where my open laptop sat. “Who were you talking to?” Panic crawls up my spine. Braide already knows too much about my life, and this particular secret is one I’d rather he never discover. “No one,” I say quickly, moving toward the bed and reaching for my laptop. Before I can close it, Braide follows behind me like a freaking shadow. He's close, too fucking close. I can feel the heat of his body behi

GiannaMy teeth sink into my bottom lip as I chew on it, trying to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to answer that question.Do I tell him the truth?That I got jealous of his relationship with Rhonda?God. Even thinking it sounds ridiculous.“I needed space,” I say instead.It isn’t entirely a lie.“Space for what, Gianna?” he asks, exhaling slowly, frustration twisting his features. “You told me you love me.”“And I do,” I reply quietly. “But I also love Kevin.”The words feel heavy in my mouth.“And I’m not willing to break up with him for you.”He suddenly drops to his knees in front of me.The movement is so abrupt it steals the air from my lungs, and I immediately force my eyes away, unable to look at him like that.“I’m not asking you to break up with him,” he says quietly. “And I’m not asking you to pause your life for me either.”His voice softens, losing the sharp edge it carried earlier.“Just… don’t shut me out completely.”A pause.“Please, Gianna.”“I… I…” The words

Gianna I’ve been awake since his phone rang, and from how he hid to take the call, whispering like I wasn’t meant to hear, I knew it was serious. I just didn’t expect it to be about me. “Go on, tell me,” I press, but Dmitry just stands there like a deer in headlights. The guilt on his face cracks the tiny bit of trust I’ve been building toward him. “It’s… it’s a surprise.” Does he think I’m stupid? A surprise? Yeah right—like I was born last week. “Get out.” He pauses like I just asked him to do something impossible, I watch as his face falls completely and then shifts to have disappointment and confusion. “...You’re asking me to leave?” he repeats, hopeful he misheard. His brows pull together, a faint crease forming between them, I know he's waiting for me to take it back and I want to. But I genuinely can't, I'm scared to give him the benefit of doubt. Whoever called wants him back in Toronto, and that's the fear that bugs me. It's best to let him go no

Gianna Dmitry is asleep beside a very frustratedly horny me. I want to pounce on him and ride the "taking things slow" idea out of him. Jesus, how can someone be equally romantic and insufferable? I take my time to get a good look at him, which is funny. We've been staying together for almost a month, if my calculations are right and I've barely taken a good look at him without panicking. My fingers trail down his sharp jawline to his neck. Dmitry's always talking, always plotting something in that corrupt mind of his but looking at him sleep, he seems so calm and unproblematic. I try and fail not to think about what his mother wanted, why she needs him back in Toronto. She never liked Alec or me, there was always something wrong in what we did, how we ate, how we lived. And the fact our parents were BOTH addicts didn't help our resumé to relate with her son. That's one of the few things that drew me closer to Dmitry, his disregards for his mother's classist rules and blatant ad