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4

ARIA

"Can I get you anything else?" I asked, plastering my best customer service smile on my face even though I was basically dying inside. My abdomen felt like it had a knife plunged into it and twisted around and then plunged back inside.

I was in pain, to say the least.

"Just the bill, please." The boy with curly blonde hair mumbled, not bothering to look up at me. I nodded, knowing that if I tried to speak, it would only escape as a grunt.

The smile on my face disappeared, a grimace replacing it as I walked away from the couple.

My period decided to grace me with its presence on Sunday, the previous day, and I was just about ready to collapse on the floor.

The second day was always the worst.

"I'm fine. I'm good. I'm okay," I muttered to no one in particular, mostly trying to convince myself.

I wiped my palms on my apron and proceeded to ring up the customer's bill. I inhaled deeply, trying not to let the pain show on my face.

If my manager saw me making a scene, I'd get into trouble.

"You have a lovely day further," I said to the young couple, noticing that they had tipped me generously.

They seemed like high school kids that decided to have lunch at the diner. With shy smiles on their faces, they waved at me. I almost awed out loud. They looked completely smitten with each other.

It was a temporary distraction from the pain, until a sharp twinge nearly had me buckling over. My cramps were always terrible, getting worse after I got off the birth control.

The urge to just scream out loud and throw a massive tantrum in the middle of the floor hit massively. But instead, I sighed and returned to the till, slumping over it as if the world laid on my shoulders.

"Aria, you're sweating. Are you okay?" Gertrude's concerned voice came from besides me.

Her hand rested on my shoulder comfortingly, and I lifted my head to look at her, not caring that my hair hung over my face like a curtain.

She tucked my hair behind my ear, staring at me with a worried look and then laid the back of her hand on my forehead. She checked for a fever, and I had to admit I was feeling a bit hot. I gave her a grateful smile and it relaxed the frown on her face.

"I'll be okay when the tablet I took finally kicks in," I said before hissing through clenched teeth.

The pain travelled through my lower back, wrapping around me in a fucking iron grip. I loosened the button on my blouse with one hand, groaning in relief when the air hit my cleavage.

"Is it lava time?" Gertrude asked, making me chuckle.

I nodded my head. Her face dropped in realisation, her lips pursing in disapproval. "For years I've been arguing with manager to allow menstruation leave for anyone who needs it and you look like you really need it. Oh, poor baby. It's difficult when the owner is a man," she said softly, shaking her head disappointedly.

"I know. There's nothing we can do about it," I said, looking around the yellow themed restaurant. It was just after rush-hour, which meant the rate at which customers arrived could only slow down. Thank fuck.

Gertrude gave me a comforting pat just as the door opened, and whispered, "I'll get it. You can rest." My face softened.

The woman was at least forty years older than me but still wanted me to be comfortable. Bless her heart. I made a promise to myself to give her the same treatment as soon as I felt better.

Four hours later, my shift had finally ended.

"Oh, fuck yes." I breathed when the clock stuck 6pm. The relief was unimaginable.

Gertrude shot me a dirty look, not impressed with my use of a cuss word. All I could do was offer her a sheepish smile.

She rolled her eyes, shooing me away. "Go on, get home and sleep."

I was quick to untie my apron and collect my things. "Thank you. I don't know what I'll do without you." I grinned at her appreciatively.

If it wasn't for that sweet lady, my job would have been ten times harder. She waved goodbye at me, and I took that as my cue to leave.

I pushed the heavy restaurant door, immediately feeling the wind blowing against my face.

The sun was beginning to set, peeking behind the tall buildings and creating a pinkish-orange haze on the horizon. It was beautiful, but I turned my back to it and started the brisk walk to my apartment. Only hoping that this time, I'd make it home without hassles.

And thankfully, I did.

Reaching the building just as the last glimpse of light disappeared in the sky, I walked up the stairs and into the lobby. Reaching my apartment, I slowed down apprehensively when I saw the door was slightly ajar.

Once again, feeling more annoyed than scared – I groaned out loud, almost as if I were in agony, which I was.

I did not have time for this shit.

Unsurprisingly, Sandro was sitting on my couch just as I expected, with an expression that was starting to become all too familiar. He had taken it upon himself to get comfortable, even pouring himself a glass of water and sipping on it casually.

I gave him the dirtiest look I could muster, scowling at him but not saying anything as I shrugged off my coat and kicked my shoes off.

His surprise was visible, accompanied by hint of confusion as he set the glass down on the table. I rolled my eyes at him, too fed up and tormented by my period cramps to care enough to be scared.

Taking in a quick glimpse of my living room, seeing nothing out of place, I rolled my eyes at him.

"Get the fuck out. Stay. I don't care. Do whatever you want," my voice was monotonous, void of any emotion besides annoyance. He looked like he had not expected that reaction from me – at all- I didn't care. I was not in the mood for the mind games that he wanted to play.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up in his seat. It stunned me that he sounded genuinely concerned. It even showed on his face, something that I didn't expect but I scoffed him, throwing him an unamused look.

Before I could see his expression, I turned my back to him and headed to my bathroom. I heard him stand up.

I didn't forgot how he had made me feel.

"Nothing. Leave me alone." I slammed the door closed, locking it for good measure. I was frustrated – on edge.

It didn't help that a man that radiated power and danger felt comfortable enough to enter my home without permission. It only added to the stress that I was currently feeling.

"Aria," a soft voice came from the other side of the door, followed by a gentle knock.

Ignoring him, I washed my face by the basin. When I lifted my head and saw myself in the mirror, wet face and eyelashes sticking together, I realised how tired I looked.

It had been the longest day ever, and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and cuddle something warm to my chest. I sighed for the millionth time.

After towel-drying my face, I opened the bathroom door. Not paying attention to the brute of a man in the wall, I walked past a perplexed looking Sandro and headed to my room to collect clean and comfortable pyjamas.

He trailed behind me, like a lost puppy. I almost wanted to laugh.

"Why don't you go sit on the couch and sip on your water like the big boss you think you are," I said sarcastically when he entered my room after me. I rummaged through my drawer, looking for a sweatpants and my comfort purple sweater.

I needed it.

All of a sudden, I was twirled around – my back hitting the open drawer. Biting back a groan, my eyes widened when it landed on the unhappy frown on his face. It took me a second to register than his hands were wrapped around my biceps, tight but not the point that it hurt.

"I am the big boss I think I am, bellissima," his voice was low, daring me to disagree with him. "Now, tell me. What's wrong?" he asked, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear and the gentle action was almost enough to melt me completely.

Looking at in disbelief at his ignorance, I poked a finger into his hard chest. "You. You are what's wrong. Why are you even here? Don't you have anything better to do?" I practically yelled, waving my hands in the air.

Sandro's answer was silence. He stared at me, unable to give me an answer. I huffed and turned my back to him, continuing to dig through my clothes until I found what I was looking for. And that's when I felt and heard him take a step forward.

He wasn't touching me, hardly even, but with the heat radiating off him, I could tell that he was really fucking close.

My hands had stilled, holding the item of clothing unconsciously tight. Knowing how close he was, knowing that he could touch me with a simple lift of his hand, the thought had rendered me frozen on the spot.

Ever so gently, a hand laid on my shoulder. I jumped, despite how tender and harmless the action was. Harmless? Nothing of the circumstances seemed harmless. He was a man with an agenda, in my apartment, in my room. And I wasn't chasing him away.

My heart rate had quickened, my breathing automatically speeding up. The entire atmosphere between the four walls had changed, the air thickening with a tension I couldn't apprehend.

Why was I letting him so close to me?

"Aria," he spoke softly, breaking the silence. "What's wrong?"

I heaved a sigh, realising that my previous theory might have proven itself to be truthful. If Sandro wanted to hurt me, he would've.

I opened my mouth to speak, and it was exactly at that moment when a cramp flowed through my belly. It had me hunching over, my groan faltering into a gasp when my ass brushed against his crotch.

It had my cheeks blazing red, but all I could focus on was the unbearable ache rushing through me.

"Fuck this shit," I swore through gritted teeth, wrapping both arms around my stomach in an attempt to lessen the blows.

"What's happening?" Sandro asked, stepping away from me. The question was simple, but for some reason, it had me wanting to punch him in the damn face.

"I'm bleeding out of my vagina. That's what's happening," I managed to retort, turning around to sit on my bed.

Surprisingly, Sandro didn't react the way I had completely expected him to. He nodded his head, taking the initiative to sit down next to me.

"Do you need anything?" he question, shocking me to the point that my head whipped to look at him in surprise. Only, he wasn't looking at me. Instead, the tiled floor seemed to have caught his attention.

"I'm good," I said slowly, furrowing my brows and not knowing how to react. This intimidating man, who had gunned someone down, was not the same persona I had encountered that Friday night. He appeared softer, more relaxed. I had to remind myself that I did not know him at all.

He didn't respond, and I took the time to marvel at his profile. He was growing more attractive by the second as I glanced over his features. His straight nose, the slight stubble on his cheeks and the scar through his brow. It fit his face perfectly and I couldn't understand how someone could appear so wickedly beautiful.

My gaze trailed down his shirt, all the way to his black slacks and dress shoes. So formal.

"Stop staring," Sandro snapped me out of my thoughts. He held a smirk on his lips, one that told me he might have an idea on what I was currently thinking.

I blamed it on my period.

"I wasn't," I defended before standing up and collecting my clothes. Turning away from him, I left him in my room as I walked to the bathroom to take my shower.

His chuckle could be heard behind me.

"Don't steal anything," I said over my shoulder. The truth was that Sandro had wealth written all over him.

What could he possibly take from my apartment that would have any sort of purpose for him?

With that thought, I closed the door shut and twisted the key. I waited, straining my ears and then I heard the front door open before closing again.

He had left.

The idea should have relaxed me more than it did at that moment.

I still didn't know what Sandro did for a living. And I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.

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