Love Under Lock and Dagger
Stefano
This is Stefano's perspective:
After the wedding, Rosalie Bennett and I come to my penthouse. It has been a hell of a function and et cetra. Rosalie goes inside first and looks around. After a moment, when I spoke, my voice was sharp and clear.
Stefano Ricci
We will sleep in different rooms and we are not a couple just because our families decided so.
She turned slowly, narrowing her eyes to my surprise.
Rosalie Bennett
I am your wife and if I demand I sleep with you? Then I will.
I frowned, momentarily taken aback. She narrowed her eyes at me once more before sassily turning on her heels and striding towards my bedroom.
Stefano Ricci
You're my wife on paper only.
I call after her coldly, my expression darkening as I watch her confident stride.
Stefano Ricci
And if you think you can demand anything from me, you're solely mistaken. There are plenty of other bedrooms in my penthouse. You can always take one.
I follow her to my bedroom. How did she even know that it's mine?
Rosalie Bennett
Of course! You can always take the couch, Amor.
She smiled sweetly before turning her expression icy. She put her luggage in one corner of my bedroom. A muscle in my jaw ticked at the mocking endearment.
Stefano Ricci
How sweet of you to offer me the couch.
I said sarcastically, leaning against the door frame with my arms crossed.
Stefano Ricci
But I'll be sleeping in my own bed. And this is my bedroom, not yours. You can sleep in one of the guest rooms.
I paused before adding sharply, my voice cold.
Stefano Ricci
And don't call me 'that'.
I watched as she ignored me completely and started rummaging through her luggage.
Stefano Ricci
You're not seriously going to sleep in here, are you?
I asked coldly, my eyes flicking to the king-sized bed in the middle of my room.
Rosalie Bennett
You're terribly mistaken if you think I'm in the mood for jokes after this long day.
Stefano Ricci
I said you're not sleeping in my room.
I repeated coldly, watching as she ignored me completely and started rummaging through her luggage once more. My jaw clenched as I see the intimate clothing she's pulling out.
Stefano Ricci
For fuck's sake...
I muttered darkly, watching as she completely ignored me and changed into her silk nightdress. My eyes flicker over her body briefly before I turned away.
Stefano Ricci
You're impossible.
I added in a murmur, running a hand through my hair in frustration.
I don't even know why I don't turn away, my cold eyes watching with a hint of irritation as she stripped down without a shred of self-consciousness. In the silk nightdress that hugs her curves, I found myself momentarily distracted.
Rosalie Bennett
For someone who claims that we're spouses on papers, you sure are doing great job at ogling my t/ts.
Rosalie
This is Rosalie's perspective:
Rosalie Bennett
For someone who claims that we're spouses on papers, you sure are doing great job at ogling my t/ts.
Stefano Ricci
I wasn't ogling your t/ts.
He snapped, his cold gaze finally breaking away from my chest.
Stefano Ricci
I was merely observing that you have no modesty whatsoever. Most women would at least pretend to be shy around their new husband.
He turned away dismissively.
Rosalie Bennett
You're my husband.
Pointing out, I raised a judging eyebrow. I feigned gagging.
Rosalie Bennett
You're so damn narrow-minded, eww.
He muttered darkly, as if finding my reaction surprisingly amusing.
Stefano Ricci
You're the most un-ladylike woman I've ever met. I must have married a damn Amazon.
Rosalie Bennett
Good for you.
I shrugged, scrubbing my face with the makeup remover slowly.
Rosalie Bennett
Amazons are wild.
Stefano Ricci
Wild? You think being rude and having no filters is wild?
He raised his eyebrows and asked dryly, watching as I scrub my face.
Stefano Ricci
You're like a damn teenager. As if married a teenager.
Rosalie Bennett
It's not my fault that you're almost twice my age. Blame yourself, Amor.
His eyes narrowed as he caught me deliberately misinterpreting his glance. Want to play? You've a long way to go, huh.
Stefano Ricci
I was merely ensuring you weren't trying to seduce me.
He retorted coldly, his gaze lingering on me before he forced it away.
I was done freshening up. I grabbed a towel.
Rosalie Bennett
I don't need to seduce you. You'll crawl to me.
He let out a sharp laugh, finding my confidence amusing.
Stefano Ricci
In your dreams, sweetheart. I've seen more attractive women throw themselves at me. You're hardly special.
He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed.
Stefano Ricci
And I certainly won't be 'crawling' to you.
Rosalie Bennett
We'll see about that.
I shrugged. I got on the bed. His eyes flickered involuntarily to me as I settled on the bed. He swallowed hard, then—
Stefano Ricci
You're doing that on purpose.
Said Stefano, his voice low and husky. I was in no mood for whatever he had to say. Pulling the cover on myself, I closed my eyes, trying to sleep.
And in no time, my breathing evening out.
Stefano
This is Stefano's perspective:
Stefano Ricci
You're doing that on purpose.
I accused.
She wasn't aware of her position and she didn't acknowledge that I was talking about something, let alone sparing a glance. But the two puffy lips were almost visible against that dangerous piece of garment.
Realizing that she was completely oblivious to the effect her position is having on me, it bothered me so much. The way she was lying, with her legs slightly bent and the nightdress riding up, giving me a perfect view of her almost see-through panties.
She pulled the covers on herself. I closed my eyes, breathing deep.
I watched her sleep for a while, fascinated by the contrast between her confident, stubborn self and this peaceful, vulnerable-looking woman in front of me. I shook my head and slipped into the bathroom to take a cold shower.
Two months passed by quickly, and we settled in a comfortable silence. We speak only when it's necessary, and rather than her small bickering with me, we don't communicate much.
The silence between us has become almost comfortable. We eat together, sleep in the same bed but maintain our own sides, and communicate only when absolutely necessary. Rosalie has come to appreciate this strange dynamic: no drama, no expectations, just coexistence.
Rosalie goes to work three days a week. She's a pathologist, occasionally visiting the hospital when it's necessary. Otherwise, she goes out by herself, sometimes with my close friends. Or else, she's at home, reading or watching series.
Not that I'm spying. Information flows to me.
Over these months, I've grown used to her routine. I don't want to admit but I appreciate how she maintains her independence but still respects my space. Sometimes I watch her from my study window as she leaves for work, elegant in her professional attire.
I observe too, too quietly. I try to find a flaw.
The way she loses herself in books, her serious expression when she's working... I look for something wrong, any flaw that would justify my initial dislike or indifference.
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