Page 17 of Temptation

I find him standing by the counter, pouring two glasses of deep red wine. He pushes one in my direction, his eyes never leaving mine as he does so. I take a big gulp, the sweet, slightly acidic taste exploding on my tongue. “Do you like it?” he asks, his voice low and smooth like the liquid in my glass.

I only nod in reply.

“There are a few more bottles downstairs,” he continues, his gaze never wavering. “Feel free to indulge yourself.”

“Thank you,” I reply and take another sip of the wine, feeling the alcohol slowly but steadily calm my frayed nerves.

Silence stretches between us as I continue sipping my wine. Fabrizio sways his glass in his hand. The dim light of the dining room catches the sharp angles of his face, making his gaze feel even more intense. I feel the need to say something; the thick muteness between us feels oppressing, making my skin prickle with unease.

“The children’s mother… what happened to her?” I venture, my voice barely above a whisper. A shadow passes Fabrizio’s face; I can’t say if it’s sadness or fury or a mixture of both. He grips the counter so hard his knuckles turn white, the muscles in his jaw ticking. “I was just wondering because there are no pictures… I mean… the children should know…” I trail off, realizing I may have overstepped.

In an instant, he closes the distance between us, standing in front of me, gripping my chin and tilting my head upward to force me to look into his face. His touch is like a brand, hot and unyielding.

“You are in no position to tell me what my children need or don’t need,” he hisses. “The topic of my wife is off-limits, especially with the twins.” His voice is a low growl, the words dripping with venom. He presses his fingers deeper into my flesh. “Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes.” The word is a mere squeak.

Fabrizio lets go of me, and I release a breath I realize I was holding. He moves away, turning his back to me.

“You can retreat to your room now.” The dismissal is cold, final, shocking. I feel a sting at his words, at the abrupt change in his demeanor. Being sent off to my room like a disobedient little child is something I am not used to, but then again, nothing about my current situation is normal.

I empty my glass of wine, placing it back on the counter with more force than needed, before turning around and storming back to my room. The door closes behind me with a soft click, and I lean against it, trying to catch my breath. My heart is racing, my mind whirling with the encounter.

What the fuck just happened?

I stand there for a few minutes until my erratic heartbeat and my boiling temper calm down before I change into my pajamas and get into bed. I don’t expect to find sleep any time soon, asthe weight of my current situation is weighing too heavily on me. As soon as I close my eyes, ready to give in to the darkness and the silence of the night, I hear a strange noise.

What was that?

Sitting up in bed, it takes me a few moments to realize that the noises I hear are coming from the room next to mine.

Maddy.

Seven

Fabrizio

“You can retreat to your room now,” I say, my voice laced with a sharp edge as I straighten my spine, gripping the kitchen counter so tightly that my knuckles turn white. The atmosphere between us, which had been civil and almost relaxed moments ago, turns icy in an instant.

Sienna doesn’t utter a word, but I hear her moving behind me. The sound of a glass being forcefully put down on the kitchen counter reverberates through the silence, feeling like the final punctuation mark of our conversation.

Seconds later, the way she stomps out of the kitchen suggests a storm of emotions raging within her. I brace myself for the inevitable slam of her bedroom door, but it doesn’t come. Instead, the silence stretches on, heavy and oppressive.

I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm the erratic rhythm of my heartbeat. Each inhale and exhale is a conscious effortto regain control, to steady the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling inside me. Not a minute goes by without me thinking about her—Lexi. Yet, I rarely speak about her, especially not with strangers. Strangers who possess perfect doe eyes and full lips, silky hair, and a deliciously voluptuous body. Strangers who seem to push all my buttons effortlessly, igniting a fire within me that I struggle to contain.

I grab my glass and throw back its contents in one big gulp. Without hesitation, I refill the glass, seeking temporary refuge at the bottom of it.

It doesn’t take me long to finish off the rest of the bottle, and as the last drop slides down my throat, I come to the conclusion that I won’t get any more work done tonight. Resigned to the inevitable, I decide to turn in early.

The house is shrouded in silence and darkness as I ascend the stairs, each step creaking softly underfoot.

Suddenly, the quiet is pierced by faint whimpering sounds, growing more pronounced with each step I take toward my daughter’s room. The cries are interspersed with a soothing hum, “Sh. Sh. Sh. It’s just a bad dream, little one.” Sienna’s whispered reassurances barely reach my ears over Maddy’s distressed whines.

The door to her room stands ajar, revealing a tender scene within. Sienna is crouched beside Maddy’s bed, her hand gently caressing my daughter’s hair in a comforting gesture. The room is bathed in a soft, dim glow from the tiny nightlight on Maddy’s nightstand, casting long shadows that dance quietly across the walls. Despite the low light, I can clearly see Sienna’s delicate, silky pajamas glimmering faintly. That sight alone holds me in place, watching the tender scene unfold before me from the shadows of the hallway.

“It’s okay; it was just a bad dream,” Sienna whispers soothingly, her voice a gentle balm to my daughter’s frayed nerves.

“It was so scary,” my daughter responds, her voice slightly trembling.

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