Chapter 29 He's Cute, Acutally

“I understand.” I stood up, about to slip into the underwear I had been clutching in my hand. Antonio’s gaze swept over, a playful smirk playing in his amber eyes.

My face flushed deeper, cementing my belief that he was merely toying with me—I was just a mistress, why should I expect his respect?

Gritting my teeth, I bent over to step into the underwear. Perhaps my lack of resistance bored him; Antonio turned and left the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

As soon as he left, the oppressive atmosphere in the room dissipated, and I breathed a sigh of relief, collapsing onto the bed with one leg still outside the underwear. The soft, bouncy mattress bounced me slightly, and I quickly sank into the cloud-like comforter, my heart pounding strangely.

I should hate Antonio. If my father was the source of all my misfortune, then Antonio was the cruel hand of fate, resolving my crises but pushing me deeper into the abyss.

I should distance myself from him, save enough money, break the contract, and leave Boston for a new city to start over.

I reached for my phone, logged into my LinkedIn account, and sent my resume to several companies I admired. Then I opened my email to download the recommendation letter Professor Falcone had written for me and sent an application to a fashion magazine in New York.

After doing all this, I quickly slipped into the panties Antonio had given me. I found it more revealing than I thought and couldn’t help shamefully covering my lower half with my hands, then I picked up the dress and clothes hanging on the chair.

Unexpectedly, he hadn’t chosen the yoga instructor outfits this time but a shirt and a mid-calf skirt instead.

The style was conservative, but the fabric was comfortable, and I knew these clothes weren’t cheap. When I appeared before Antonio, his eyes lit up, and he playfully whistled, “Miss Beautiful, may I treat you to breakfast?”

I had always found whistling at women to be frivolous and rakish, but Antonio didn’t come off that way at all; his mischievous yet serious demeanor was... well, somewhat charming—if he always acted like this, nobody would suspect him of being a mafioso.

I couldn’t help but follow him into the dining room, completely relaxed, looking forward to my breakfast. “I’d like some fried bacon, an egg and ham sandwich, and..."

“An iced Americano.” Antonio pulled out the chair for me at the dining table, unapologetically, “You’re quite predictable, almost like a broken record.”

“That’s just me being consistent,” I tried to argue, but seeing Antonio’s expression turn cold again, I sighed regretfully.

Forget it, a man like Antonio, who keeps a mistress while engaged, wouldn’t understand what being consistent means.

I sat down and silently ate my breakfast while Antonio sat opposite me, reading the newspaper, occasionally sipping his coffee and quickly turning the page.

I bit into my sandwich, the room so quiet that only the sound of my chewing and the occasional rustle of Antonio’s newspaper could be heard.

As I finished my iced Americano, ready to end the breakfast, Dante was ready to leave and came to ask Antonio when we would depart.

“Now.” Antonio placed a baseball cap on my head as I had no expectations for the place we were headed. I followed him out, ready to leave, until he nudged me, reminding me to bring my camera.

I didn’t want to bring my precious camera for him. Antonio’s expression turned dangerous, “You should know what absolute obedience means, Sienna.”

My foot was much better, and I felt I could walk. Antonio had chosen a pair of Mary Jane shoes with a reasonable heel for me.

I took a deep breath, reminding myself to endure, as attending Valentina’s engagement party was crucial. I reluctantly went back to the room and slung the camera over my shoulder.

Dante was driving, Matteo sat in the passenger seat, and I was stuffed into the backseat by Antonio, who sat beside me.

Even on a day off, Antonio was busy, always with a laptop on his laps, occasionally receiving an email, managing some work issues.

When Antonio was busy working, I had my moments of freedom, playing games on my phone, checking my email for interview updates.

Suddenly, a new email notification popped up. I stiffened, instinctively turning to look at Antonio but stopped myself halfway, controlled by reason.

But Antonio, always perceptive, caught my glance, “Something wrong?”

“I...” I couldn’t dare to look at my phone. My inbox quietly held an email from my mom, and soon the screen flashed—it was a call from her. I quickly turned my phone screen down on my thigh, pretending to rub my arms from the cold, “It’s a bit chilly.”

Antonio eyed me suspiciously and reached out to adjust the car’s air conditioning, which promptly warmed up, quickly bringing warmth back to my hands and feet.

“You should wear more,” Antonio commented, glancing out the window.

“I think I’m dressed warmly enough,” I retorted, pouting slightly. The outside temperature was expected to reach 25 degrees Celsius today, and I was already wearing a long-sleeve top and a jacket, “It’s just Dante’s air conditioning setting that’s too low.”

Dante glanced at me through the rearview mirror and quickly admitted his mistake, “My fault, Miss Corsetti.”

Antonio tapped on his keyboard a couple of times, then instructed Dante to stop in front of a shopping mall.

“I don’t want to go shopping,” I realized what Antonio intended and started to object, but was immediately silenced by his threatening glare, “This is the second time you’ve refused me, Sienna. Maybe I should reconsider whether to agree with you…”

“Don’t be like this, I’ll go with you,” I grabbed my phone and followed Antonio out of the car. Dante and Matteo quickly followed.

We entered the mall, and without hesitation, Antonio headed straight for the elevator. I followed closely behind him into the elevator, the mall’s ample air conditioning causing goosebumps all over my skin, but I dared not shiver.

“I'm really not cold anymore, Antonio, let’s go,” I pleaded as Antonio led me to a renowned luxury store on the fourth floor. I dared not look at the price tags; I knew they were out of my range without even checking—either in the thousands or tens of thousands of dollars.

Besides, with the mall bustling with people, I might not be aware of my mother’s financial status, but I knew the chances of running into her or Valentina here were slim. Yet, I still feared the moment someone might recognize and call out my name.

Being a mistress was not an honorable job, especially one that was forced upon me.

“You can choose one piece, or have them pack everything up for you,” Antonio moved through the racks of clothes, the staff following him and taking down clothes to place on the sofa beside me.

“I should remind you, Sienna, the longer you delay here, the greater your chance of encountering someone you know. You should understand that,” Antonio casually grabbed a coat and tossed it over to me, commanding, “Put it on.”

I couldn’t deny the truth in Antonio’s words. Unable to sway his decision, I could only comply and try to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Resolute, I picked up the clothes and headed towards the fitting room, but Antonio blocked my path, “Change here.”

“Here?” Antonio’s impudent request shocked me. I glanced at the staff and Dante and Matteo, then, biting my lip, I did it!

I removed my light jacket, tossed it on an empty spot on the sofa, and put on the new coat Antonio had thrown to me.

Standing in front of the fitting mirror, I was stunned by the coat— a classic black and gold woven jacket with a rock-metal design paired with a white long dress. It was quite striking.