Omertà

Chapter 6: Breakfast with Villains

Surprise!
I'm not dead!
Haha... No? Okay...
(A/N at the end)

Guilt is a complex, yet simple, thing. It's always the result of either action or the lack of doing so. Guilt is wha I felt when I woke up this morning. When my eyes fluttered open this morning, I was resting on Dimitri's chest, my legs nestled between his. His arms were wrapped tightly around my waist, keeping me close to him.

Now I'm lying here, absentmindedly tracing the tattoo on his bicep, thinking about the text I sent to Alyssa. Even though it could guarantee my safety, it betrays Dimitri. I think he trusts me not to do anything, but I did. I could only imagine what he would do when he finds out.

Oh god, he's going to kill me. He's going to torture me and then kill me. The more I think about my situation, the more I realize how bad of an idea texting Alyssa was.

By texting her, I endangered her life as well as mine. Well, my life was already at risk, but now went more. When did my life become such a mess? I guess it was when I met Dimitri.

I lift my head off his chest to look at the sleeping man beneath me. In his sleep, he looks peaceful and innocent. Right now, you couldn't tell by just looking at him that he was a cold blooded murderer and Mafia member.

Dimitri stirs beneath me in his sleep and I decide that's my cue to wake up. I gently reach behind me and pry his arms off of me. Then? I place an arm on either side of him and slowly lift myself up on my arms and roll off of him.

Success! I crawl towards the edge of the bed, but just as my toe touches the floor, I'm yanked backwards back into his arms.

"Good morning, principessa." He says in a sexy, sleepy time. "You didn't think I would notice if you tried to get out of bed?" His sleepy, Italian accent was enough to send my heart in a frenzy. Sleepy men were definitely a turn on.

"Well, no, I guess." I admit. I was so sneaky! Like a ninja! How did he even wake up?

"Fiorella, I woke up the second you got off of me." He says and I can just hear the smirk in his voice.

"Speaking of getting off, do you mind getting off me?" I ask irritatedly.

"Hmm... No. If we're still talking about getting off, maybe you could help me out." My eyes widen and I scoff.

"I swear, it's like you men have. One track minds." I mutter under my breath.

"I heard that. And it's not my fault, you kinda walked into that one." He replies with a chuckle. "Now? As much as I love this, I could really go for some breakfast." He stands up, pulling me with him. He looks distastefully at my body.

"What?" I ask, self-consciously looking down at myself.

"I don't want you walking around this house wearing such... revealing clothes." He admits.

"Why? You didn't care last night." I point out justice be a nuisance.

"There weren't men walking around the house last night." He says through gritted teeth.

"It doesn't matter, I don't have any clothes to change into." I cross my arms in front of me and shift my weight.

"It just so happens," he begins, walking right up to me, "that this is my room." He leans down to my height and whispers in my ear. "And I have clothes you can wear."

"No way." I push against his chest trying to create space between us, but I fail miserably. He didn't even budge. Instead, he snakes his arms around me, pulling me flush against his chest.