Page 69 of Dancing with the Devil

“Come inside,” I nodded towards the door. “It’s chilly out here.”

* * *

I spent the entire day locked in my bedroom, sleeping this hangover away.

Rosalia understood and was kind enough to bring me anything I needed or wanted. Though, I haven’t seen Antonio all day today. When I finally woke up to Silvia’s FaceTime call, it had already gotten dark.

“You’re still alive,” she sighed in relief and I playfully rolled my eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked and she moved closer to the camera. “Since you’re going to marryThe Deviland everything,” she dramatically whispered. “Plus, he’s so scary when mad.”

“Will you stop with this devil crap? It’s kind of scaring me now.”

“It should!” she whisper-yelled.

“If you’ve called to ask about sleeping with Jordan, you’re wasting your time,” I rolled my eyes. “Because I didn’t. I already said that. I’m engaged.”

“Yeah, but it’s not real. You don’t even have feelings for him.”

I simply pinned her with a look.

“Are you on some new abstinence journey, or are you saving yourself for your little fiancé?” she teased with a little grin and I broke out in a smile.

“Shut up.”

After hours we finally hung up and I skipped downstairs, making my way into the kitchen.It’s oddly quiet. Maybe because it’s almost nine in the evening, genius. Right.

I stood on my toes as I looked into the cabinet. Top shelf. Far back.Seriously?I sighed, holding onto the countertop as I hopped up. The surface felt slippery underneath my knees but I steadied myself fast. I reached over and stuck my hand inside, searching for a mug.Got it.

I grabbed it but my forearm accidentally brushed against two plates, causing them both to shatter on the floor. The loud crash caused me to jolt and I dropped the mug as well. I slipped, falling backward, and landed hard on my ass. My forearm pressed into some glass as I landed. “Oh, fuck.”

I softly groaned, lifting my arm from the glass to see little pieces stuck into my skin with blood running down my arm.Oh no. Don’t look.I tried standing but felt two arms lift me onto my feet.

“What the hell happened?” Antonio asked, picking me up bridal style.

He carried me away from the glass and out of the kitchen, making me wrap my arms around his neck.

“I may or may not have broken two plates and a mug… sorry,” I apologized and he looked down at me with his brows knitted.

“I don’t care about the broken plates, what happened?”

“Well, I was on a call with Silvia, and she brought up the fact that she hadn’t had a good cappuccino in a while, and the thought—”

“In the kitchen. What happened in thekitchen, Nirah?” he interrupted me and I smiled.

“Right,” I nodded as he carried me into his office. “I needed a mug, got onto the countertop, and accidentally slipped,” I murmured in embarrassment. The muscle in his jaw ticked.

I wasn’t sure whether or not he was upset or concerned. Maybe he was simply irritated. He tried to put me down on the desk, but I stopped him. “No—wait,” I dramatically gasped. “I kind of fell on my ass…” I awkwardly said, and I could tell he was fighting back a smile. “It’s not funny,” I narrowed my eyes at him.

He turned, lowering me down onto his chair and I sank into it.Am I really sitting on his chair? I am!

He and I hadn’t really spoken in two days, after our little disagreement in my bedroom. I wasn’t entirely sure where I stood with him.

He reached over and grabbed a first-aid out of his drawer. He leaned back against the edge of his desk and gently held my arm as he started cleaning my cuts. I looked around, trying to distract myself from the blood.

“This…” I said, motioning my finger in the air. “Could pass as a museum.”

“You like it?” he asked with his eyes fixated on my arm and I shrugged my shoulders.