"Why are you screaming?" he asked with a smirk, clearly enjoying my reaction.
I rolled my eyes the moment I realized he was only joking. "Why am I here?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"I wanna show you something," he said, stepping out of the car and walking around to open my door. "Step down, Ell."
"Stop calling me Ell, I'm Isabella," I said, giving him a glare.
"I'll call you whatever I want, little thing. Now get that round ass out of my car," he said with that damn smirk again.
"You'll always be so naughty, won't you?" I muttered.
"Yeah," he shot back easily, "that's one of the reasons you proposed to me."
"Can you stop talking about that already?" I said, feeling my cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
"Look at how red you look," he said with a teasing grin.
I pushed him lightly and stepped out of the car.
"Ladies first," he added quickly.
"That's not working on me today," I said, brushing past him. "Can you lead the way?"
He shrugged, walking ahead. "You're so boring," he muttered under his breath.
"I heard that," I called after him.
"Not like I was talking to myself," he shot back without turning around.
When we got to his door, he pressed in his password, and the door clicked open.
The moment I stepped into the living room, I couldn't help but let out a soft, "Wow."
"You like it?" he asked, his voice casual but a hint of pride in it.
"I love it," I said honestly.
"This is the ugliest house I have," he said with a straight face. "I brought you here because you're so ugly."
I rolled my eyes. "Thanks for the compliment. Now, what exactly do you want to show me? I have to get home before it gets dark."
"The thing will be ready by dusk," he replied. "And you're sleeping here tonight. I already talked to your parents."
"Story that touches the heart," I muttered, shaking my head.
He smirked. "I thought it'll make you squirt ."
I gasped, half-laughing. "Why don't you ever have a filter?"
He only grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself.
"I think I'm talking too much," he said, leaning back with that careless smirk of his.
"If you don't have any important information, I'll go back," I replied flatly.
"You still don't get it, do you?" he asked, his voice dropping a little. "You're staying here tonight."
My smile faded the moment those words left his mouth.
"What do you mean by I'm staying here tonight?" I asked, forcing a nervous laugh, hoping he was joking again.
But he didn't even blink. He just stared — calm, collected, unreadable.
"I told you already," he said. "The thing I want to show you will be ready at dusk. It's safer if you stay here."
"Safer?" I repeated, my voice coming out smaller than I wanted. My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my top. "You could've at least asked me first."
He stepped closer, his shadow falling over me. "If I asked, you'd have said no."
I took a step back immediately. "That's called choice, Antonio."
He tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "And this is called care, piccola. Don't mix the two."
His words made something twist inside me — irritation, confusion, maybe even fear.
"Care?" I scoffed, folding my arms. "You really have a weird way of showing it."
He didn't reply, just kept his eyes on me steady, sharp, and far too calm for someone who'd just trapped me in his house.
"I'm not staying here," I said firmly, turning toward the door.
Before I could take another step, his hand caught my wrist, not rough, but firm enough to stop me. "You're not going anywhere, piccola," he said, voice low, deliberate.
Something about the way he said it made my heart race faster.
I tried to pull free. "You don't get to decide that…"
"Then stop making me," he interrupted, his tone sharper now.
My breath hitched. For a second, neither of us moved. The silence between us was heavy, electric. His grip loosened, and he let go of my hand.
"The thing will be ready at dusk," he said, sitting on the couch like he owned the world. "You're staying here tonight. I already talked to your parents." He repeated.
That made me stop. "What? I thought you were joking" I blinked, frowning. "What did you tell them?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked away, playing with his ring.
"Antonio, I'm talking to you. What did you tell them?" I repeated, stepping closer.
He only shrugged. "Just… that you'll be safe here."
"That's not an answer," I said, my voice rising. "What did you say to make them agree?"
He gave me that lazy, amused smile. "You're cute when you're mad."
"Don't change the topic!" I snapped, crossing my arms. "You can't just decide where I sleep without asking me!"
He stood up slowly, closing the space between us. "You talk too much when you're angry," he said softly, eyes fixed on mine.
"I'm serious, Antonio," I said, taking a step back. "What did you tell them?"
He tilted his head slightly, that teasing look still on his face. "You really want to know?"
"Yes!…."
Before I could say another word, his hand caught my waist—and then his lips were on mine.