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BABYDOLL
♧
ARI ABDUL ________________________
IT FELT LIKE I'd been at this dinner table for 40 days and 40 nights.
The only thing keeping me from losing my mind was focusing on my food and talking to my dad. Finally, dessert arrived—a beautifully plated Torta della Nonna, dusted with powdered sugar and drizzled with honey.
"Oh, yay." I grinned as the plate was set in front of me, wasting no time in digging in.
My father chuckled. "Your favorite."
I shot him a bright smile. "Thank you, Daddy." Without hesitation, I scooped up a large spoonful, savoring the creamy filling and crisp pastry.
Antonio's hand slid over my back, his fingers grazing my spine in slow, absentminded strokes.
"Slow down. You'll choke." His voice was low, amused, as he rubbed small circles against my back.
I barely acknowledged him, too focused on my dessert. "Are you gonna eat yours?" I asked through a mouthful.
Antonio huffed a small laugh. "Have at it."
I wasted no time pulling his plate toward me.
"Unbelievable," Cassian muttered, shaking his head.
Charlotte hid a small smile behind her wine glass. "She is the baby."
"She's spoiled is what she is," Corrine cut in, eyeing me pointedly.
I ignored her, swiping my spoon through Antonio's untouched dessert like I hadn't just inhaled my own. My father, however, only smirked, watching me with an expression that practically screamed amusement.
"Let her be, amore mio," he said to my mother before turning to me. "Anything else you want, mia bambina?"
I swallowed my bite and tilted my head, pretending to think. "Mmm... maybe a car."
Corrine sighed long and hard. "Vincenzo, do not entertain her—"
But my father was already leaning in, like he was genuinely considering it. "Which one?"
I grinned. "I was thinking the black Porsche—"
"No."
I turned to Antonio, narrowing my eyes. "Excuse me?"
He gave me a flat look. "You have enough cars."
Cassian choked on his drink, barely holding back laughter. "Since when does he say no?"
