( this book is currently being HEAVILY edited. I suggest not reading unless you are okay with slight errors.)
In which a 40 year old Italian man falls into the trap of an 22 year old seductress, who babysits his children.
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Our eyes stayed on eac...
"I don't really give a fuck and my excuse is that I'm young."
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My sleep was interrupted when my phone blared its ringtone. Harry Styles' voice filled my room and if it had been any other sound, I would have thrown the device across the room but because I may or may not have a soft spot for the singer—I let it ring just a little longer.
After a few more seconds, I picked it up and groaned at the time displayed across the screen.
11 a.m. way too early for me to be up considering the headache I was sporting.
I read the screen, the name 'Sarah Moritello' displayed across it. I sat up in my bed and clicked 'accept' setting the phone against my ear.
"Hello?" I answered groggily, stifling a yawn.
I heard small cries on the other end of the line and paused, attempting to listen to what was happening in the background like the nosy person I am. It was quiet on the other end of the line for a few more minutes and I felt myself wanting to fall back asleep.
"Sarah?" I asked, "You there?"
A loud bang resonated from her side and I cringed, something must have fallen and she finally spoke out. Cursing, most likely at the fallen object which sounded like It was now broken on the ground.
"Gianna? Oh honey thank you for picking up so early it's just I -"she struggled to finish her sentence as she let out a frustrated cry and all the previous fatigue I felt had slipped away.
"I need you to come watch over the kids for a bit? Is that okay? I'm sorry it's such short notice, my husband isn't here right now and I really need to go look for him and everything's a mess I just don't know what to do." Another frustrated sigh escaped her lips and I got out of bed in a rush, ripping the covers off my figure while she continued speaking.
I hadn't known Sarah or her family long enough to form real opinions on their relationship but from what I'd observed—they seemed to face marital problems every day and I couldn't see why. Sarah seemed like a wonderful woman and her husband seemed to be a great man. What could possibly be going wrong for people like them who had everything?
"I sent a text to his sister but she hasn't replied yet and I can't wait any longer." She explained, her voice furthering away from the receiver.
She managed to rush out a sentence in between her constant tears and hiccups. I decided not to pry, knowing my place and accepted the offer, telling her I'd be there in an hour.
I hung up and set my phone on the table next to my bed, a dozen thoughts running through my mind. I decided to ignore them and went over to my bathroom, freshening up and heading downstairs.
The first thing I came face to face with was a sleeping blonde, who passed out on the couch. Some Netflix series playing quietly in the background. I walked up to her and threw the small throw blanket over her frame, silently giggling at her soft snores.
