Whispers of Passion | (18+)

06 | Unspoken Temptations

DIANA
***

The engine hummed as Dante navigated through the streets of Brooklyn.

I glanced out of the window at the familiar sights, the city buzzing with life. Occasionally, I would steal a couple of glances at him, admiring his side profile. I noticed a small bump on his nose and a beauty mark on his cheek.

I leaned back in the passenger seat, comfortable in the familiarity of his presence. It was odd how, despite the years apart, everything felt so natural with him.

"So, Diana," Dante began, his eyes briefly meeting mine, "What do you remember about the pizza joint in Brooklyn?"

A nostalgic smile crept across my face. "The red-checkered tablecloths, the warmth that you felt when you walked in, and the smell of the different pizzas being made and how we practically lived there during high school."

He chuckled, a rich, pleasant sound that resonated through the car. "Seems like a lifetime ago, doesn't it?"

"Tell me about it," I replied. "Back then, life was a bit simpler, or at least it felt that way."

Dante nodded. "It was, and I have to admit, those were some of the best times of my life."

I glanced over at him, my heart skipping a beat, "And now here we are, navigating the complexity of adult life," I mused.

He glimpsed at me, his expression softening. "You've come a long way since then, Diana. I'm proud of you."

I felt warmth spread through me, appreciative of the sincerity in his words. "I'm proud of you too, Mr. Luciano, with your successful company and all."

Dante smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, someone's been keeping an eye on me. Still the same observant Diana, I see."

"It's hard not to notice when someone is wealthy," I teased.

"Touché."

The polished black car pulled up at the pizzeria, and Dante circled the car to open my door, his hand finding its place on the small of my back as I got out, provoking a subtle shiver.

The lively chatter of locals and the periodic honk of passing cars harmonized with one another.

The scent of freshly baked dough filled the air, even before we walked into the restaurant.

The pizzeria stood on the corner, a cozy enclave illuminated with a vintage neon sign reading "Lenny's Pizzeria" that radiated a warm, inviting glow.

Awnings in faded red and white stripes shaded outdoor seating.

A chalkboard on the sidewalk displayed the day's specials. Warmth enveloped me as I stepped in after Dante opened the door, the bell chiming.

The distant hum of the city diminished as the door closed behind us. I looked around, admiring the nostalgic surroundings.

Inside, the pizzeria exuded a timeless charm. Lamps hung from the ceilings, beautifully casting a warm golden glow.

The quiet buzz of conversations, clinking cutlery, and the occasional burst of laughter created a comforting ambiance.

The black and white checkered floor was complemented by checkered tablecloths on booth tables. Vintage posters showcasing iconic Brooklyn landmarks adorned the white walls.

The booths were lined up in rows near the window, displaying the glistening lights of city buildings and stores.

As I looked to my left, I saw a food display case. I rushed over and put my hands on top of the glass, admiring the perfectly circular pizzas inside.