Revenge.
I'm familiar with it. You have to be when you're the firstborn son of a notorious mafia leader. Death and vengeance have been the very foundations of my life.
So who in their fucking mind would be stupid enough to cross me?
My brother and...
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I have a death wish.
That's all I can think as I look around Knox's study that was left unlocked and caught my eye in passing. I stepped in and now it's been minutes and I've yet to step out. There's also the fact that he should be home any minute now. Not exactly my smartest move.
Movement outside the door catches my eye and I tense up, relaxing again when I see it's just Teresa heading for the front door. She reaches toward the doorknob to close the door to the study but stops when she sees me, her eyes widening.
"What are you doing in here?" She scolds. "Come out!"
I put my hands up in surrender. "I'm just looking for something."
"What could you possibly be looking for in Mr. Marino's study?"
My vibrator.
But of course I don't say that out loud nor do I mention I already went snooping around in his room and didn't find it there either. That was expected, though. I'm pretty sure Knox only uses that room to sleep. There's nothing but a bed and dresser of minimal things. This study is where everything of his goes, including his time.
"He took something of mine," I answer vaguely.
And I want it back. No way is he going to make me come crawling back to him by keeping the damn thing hostage. He was so freaking smug when he walked out of my room while I was still lost in my orgasm. How satisfying would it be if he discovered he no longer had the vibrator and that he had to come crawling to me if he wanted more? The answer is extremely satisfying, so when I saw the study door cracked open I leapt at the chance to take a look around.
Teresa shuffles nervously, eyes darting around. "He is not going to be happy if he finds you in here. This study is off-limits. He makes no exceptions, even for you."
Even for me? She makes it sound like I get good treatment from him or something. I'm no special case and it's beyond me why she would think otherwise.
I wave a hand. "Go home, Teresa. He wouldn't do anything to me if he found me in here."
At least I think.
But I must sound convincing enough because she bites her lip in obvious contemplation and nods once, throwing out a quick good night that I return. When the sound of the front door closing meets my ears I go back to snooping.
Technically I'm not doing anything wrong, right? I live here so it's my house and I should have the freedom to look around if I want. Not to mention Knox has completely invaded my space time and time again so who is he to tell me where I can and can't go?
I don't understand why he treats his study like freaking Narnia anyway. It's not that special from what I can see. Floor-to-wall bookshelves line the wall behind his desk and across the door. The layout is very Victorian style, complete with an accent rug and wooden furniture. It even has a fireplace that's burning bright in the darkness, the soft crackles of the ember disturbing the otherwise quiet house.
