38.

                                    

                                          
Sofia
My phone buzzes as I park the car in the driveway of this enormous mansion. I check the notification bar to see some random text from Xavier. 
You got home okay?
I almost don't reply to it, but knowing his recklessness, I don't dare to risk it. So, I send him a simple yes in hope he eventually leaves me alone.
I walk into the house, my unease doubled at the unexpected meeting with the drug lord. I pray the man vanish without trace. Ezio would be furious to know that I hid this information from him. But somehow I feel the need to protect Xavier from his wrath. Though he convinces me he can handle it just fine.
Men and their childish play. I'd never understand it.
I ascend the stairs, going straight to his bedroom. I slip off my heels, then change my outside clothes in the walk-in closet. The shower is on, meaning Ezio is probably getting ready for work. 
I cross the room—almost automatically—to his liquor cabinet. Open it but find it empty. Not even a single bottle remained. Well, fuck. He intentionally clears it. The man doesn't play around.
I barge into the bathroom—it's unlocked as usual—ready to bring storm to his calm night. Yet I stop dead in my tracks at the sight of his naked body behind the shower glass.
His head tilts up slightly as water drips over those toned muscles. His tattoos splayed out, covering his skin and beckoning me closer. His hand runs over his wet hair while the other leaning against the tiled wall. 
Damn it. No matter how many times I've seen him without a single cloth, it always puts me in a daze somehow. His body is sickeningly perfect, but I won't admit it out loud.
"Join me, baby?" he murmurs, too softly for someone like him. My cheeks heat a little, knowing he's aware of my ogling. I don't even realize I've been standing here for minutes.
"Don't you have enough of me?" I raise my eyebrow.
His smirk grows. "Never."
"You're hiding the liquors." Those words make his amusement vanish. His dark eyes look at me sharply. 
"I threw it all away."
"What—"
"Get in the fucking shower, Sofia." He orders.
I don't know what in his tone that spurs me to do that exact thing. But I peel off my clothes and steadily step in the shower as he makes room for me. His body tenses as though waiting for the confrontation to come out of my mouth. Well, I don't disappoint.
"Why?" I stand, unwavering in front of him. Warm water cascading down our bodies, almost distractingly. 
"Why?" he recites mockingly, his arms bracing against the wall behind me and I'm caged in between his dominating form.
"I don't need—"
His hand grips my jaw, tilting it up to meet his vicious stare. "I care for you no matter how much you despise me for it." He states angrily.
"You're insufferable." I glare, meeting his rage.
"Say what you want." 
"Fine. You're an asshole—"
He shuts my mouth with a violent kiss. Hand around my throat and my back against the wall. Our lips move in sync. Furiously. Fueled by anger and wild desire. Until I sober up, then push him away. Though he barely moves an inch.
"You've been drinking?" he questions like he can't  believe he just tasted liquor on my lips.
"Just champagne." I answer. No point of lying.