The Under Boss's Ballerina [18+]

03

Warning! Mature theme and scenes ahead, any one uncomfortable with the said theme is free to leave.

The Maseratti halted in front of his penthouse building, a building I knew so well.

I was still not talking to the man who forcefully brought me to his home and parked the car and now was holding the door open for me to get out.

"Ariel, stop being problematic and acting like a brat and get out of the damn car." He said for the nth time.

Sighing, I examined my nails. I need to polish them, the paints were chipped in the sides.

I don't like it.

"Fucking get out, tadpole!" He yelled grabbing my arm with a purpose and hurling me outside. The valet waited beside Angelo to park the car in the underground garage and was now our attentive spectator.

"Come on, baby." Angelo's voice softened as he pulled me toward the entrance and into the private elevator using his fingerprint and a code.

Rolling my eyes, I accompanied him into the elevator. The stupid cubicle took us up twenty floors and we stepped inside the white and grey furbished penthouse suite that belonged to Angelo.

"I want to sleep." I said breaking the silent treatment I was giving to nobody in particular.

But then again, there was only Angelo.

"Let's talk first, sí?" Angelo asked shrugging off his tanned suit jacket and throwing it on the living room sofa.

"For one, Mr. Giovanni, I said I didn't have anything to talk to you and two, I said I wanted to sleep, or so help me, I'll hurl the vase on your head, for good." I said crossing my arms over my chest.

Angelo's jaw muscle, contracted. I knew he was biting that tongue not to say anything.

I swear if he utters one word that doesn't settle with me, I am going to ruin this house and light the fuck of up on fire. Don't care.

"Fine." Angelo sighed.

Rolling my eyes, I made my way to the master bedroom, leaving my shoes and the bag by the door, fairly conscious abut Angelo following me, closely.

Entering the room, I sighed deeply.

Weird how many times I've been in this room but never once used the bed to sleep. The thought makes me laugh.

What was becoming of my life?

I thought he made it clear he didn't want anything to do with me?

That night when he forced the miscarriage out of me, he made sure every ties between us, even though there were not many, was tethered and battered.

He broke them enough not to fix them. Now what's wrong with him?

I undid my pony tail and shook out my bubblegum pink hair, dragging my fingers through the pouffy mess.