What The Don Wants
"Merda! Isla, what do you need? Hot water? Painkillers? Should I call the doctor?"
I bit my lip, trying not to grin.
Dante was pacing the room like a man on fire, searching the drawers, checking his phone, probably Googling "how to ease menstrual pain in under ten seconds."
"I'll call the maids. Get you some ginger tea, hot towels, maybe a heating pad?" he asked, already halfway to the door.
"No no, stay," I croaked, reaching out to him as dramatically as I could.
He froze immediately, spinning back to me. "Okay. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
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