My Enemy’s Daughter

HENRICO ZATTANI

Her serene and relaxed expression makes it difficult for the girl to reconcile with the show for adults she was putting on at that bar when I arrived. Why does she have to look like a harmless sleeping angel? Is it on purpose? A plan designed to drive the man in me crazy? Screw this! The Bartender is right, this girl is trouble and she’s going to get in the way of my plans.

She mutters, making low, incomprehensible sounds with her eyes still closed. Turning over on the bed I’d given her for the night, causing the sheet to rise up to reveal her bare legs, revealing a piece of my shirt wrapped around her hip, while one of my underwear covered her small, round ass. I curse, cursing the brat for causing me confused thoughts. I’m between taking care of her and doing not “so” innocent things.

I pull back the sheet her stupid movements have pulled and cover her body again, leaving only her head visible.

I take her cell phone, glad she gave me the password earlier when I created a fake message to her mom. I check to see if the woman has already viewed and left a response.

Mom: What do you mean sleeping outside? The woman types back. Mother: You haven’t slept outside since you were ten.

The woman then orders.

I grumble, thinking of something clever to type.

Amelia: I’m at a friend’s house from school. Talk to you later.

I write back, hoping the woman will believe it, after all, it’s only been a few months since her daughter finished high school.

It will stick.

Mom: “Amelia Leal, you hate all these girls. Tell the truth or I will track your phone!”

I despair, trying to think of a convincing answer.

Damn, doesn’t this girl have any friends?

Amelia: That’s not bad, I actually sympathize with her. I need to distract myself, you need to understand.

Shipping.

A few seconds later the phone vibrates again and I smile at what I read.

“Ok, come home tomorrow morning. We have to talk. I love you, little mouse. Never forget that your mother loves you and everything I do is for your happiness.”

I don’t understand the content of the message, but I’m glad it won’t track the girl’s cell phone. It would be very bad right now if Augusto Leal found out that his youngest daughter is sleeping in my bed, or not. I smile, looking down at the piece of forbidden meat wrapped like a goddamn gift on my mattress.

The thought of making him wonder what his daughter and I are doing alone in a room makes me smile.

I push the idea out of my head and go to the bathroom, which is connected to the bedroom, and take a quick shower, just to wash off the grime of a hard day. When I feel clean enough, I step out of the shower and grab the white towel I always have here, wrap the piece of cloth around my hips and walk out of the bathroom. The feeling of cleanliness is wonderful, even more so when all that comes to mind at that moment is the brief encounter I had with Aurora, and for some reason that memory makes me feel dirty.

I can’t lie to myself and say that my body didn’t react to hers, along with the anger it was also long. She reminded me of Roast, how good my life was. Aurora is still stunning in her pose as an independent woman, in fact, the opposite of Amelia.

The girl is a mess despite her tight gauze. The youngest Leal has a natural sensuality and emotion in her light irises, capable of bending anyone and, however, does not transmit confidence.

I grab a pair of sweatpants from the closet, peeking over my shoulder to see if the imp is still sleeping. A spontaneous smile spreads across my face when I see yes, in one swift motion I remove the towel and pull on one of my boxer briefs, quickly pulling up my sweatpants.

If, two months ago, I had been told that I would change clothes in the presence of a member of the Leal family, even if unconsciously and a little tempted, I would have laughed. I had plans, yes, plans for Amelia and changing clothes was included, but that involved the naked, wide-awake brat.

I turn to her, imagining her reaction when she wakes up and finds me right beside her.

I make my way to the bed, naked from the waist up, and lie down, putting one arm up to support my head while the other rests on my abdomen. Guilhermino will not like that I slept here, he is extremely correct and would judge me disrespectful, but fuck it.

This is my house, my room and my bed. She can share with me.

I don’t sleep for the first few minutes, but I stay in bed because I’m used to the insomnia that accompanies my prison days. I don’t realize the moment sleep overtakes me, but I feel my eyelids grow heavy with time and I wake up to someone pinching my arm.

“What the hell!” I exclaim, opening my eyes as I capture the girl’s hand. “What do you think you’re doing?” I rage, feeling the area she pinched burn.

She yelps in fright, blinking her eyes several times as she stares at me in disbelief.

“You’re here, it’s not a dream.” she speaks in a voice slurred with sleep, indicating that she has just woken up.

“You pinched me.” I complain, massaging the red skin.

She shifts her gaze to where I’m getting the massage and shrugs, irritating me with the gesture.

“I needed to know if it was a dream or a nightmare.” speaks with a mischievous smile on his lips.

I grumble, affected by the look she’s giving me. I watch the light coming through the window, passing through the thick curtains and showing that it’s already morning, I can’t contain the surprise that hits me, I turn my gaze to her, hiding my discomfort when I realize that for the first time in three years I managed to sleep one night . entire, simply because he had his company.

“Test it on you! No use testing it on me girl.” I stand up, yanking the sheet from my body abruptly.

“Well, I didn’t want to be in pain and I got my answer… wait, what are you doing here?” His expression suddenly changes and I have to bite the corner of my mouth to keep from laughing at the face he’s making.

“This is my room, honey.” I spread my arms, signaling to the walls and furniture.

She lets out a curse before falling into complete despair.

“What? How? Did you kidnap me?” She goes over her own questions, looking under the covers.

“I didn’t touch you, I asked Marisa, one of the girls who help with the housework, to help you with the clothes.” I say, quashing whatever disturbing thoughts she’s having.

Amelia turns up her little nose, playing the arrogant girl.

“Great.”

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“You could have woken me up with kisses instead of pinches.” I change my tone, enjoying the effect my words have on her. I advance toward her, spilling my body over hers, leaving her pinned against the bed.

“You shouldn’t have slept here.” He speaks harshly, avoiding my gauze.

“Didn’t you enjoy my company, dear?” I whisper in her ear, watching the hairs near the area stand on end.

“Do not call me like that.” He looks at me.

I lie further down on top of her, resting my hand on the side of her head and preventing my body from falling over hers.

“Sorry, I can’t ignore your beauty. She affects me, as does her contradictory personality.” I say, getting back to my feet.

Her breathing is ragged, her gauze is fuzzy, and an overwhelming urge to hold her safe in my arms hits me. I shake my head and back away, taking four steps from safe space before committing another thoughtless act because of this girl.

“See you at breakfast, I’ll make sure your clothes are clean and dry for someone to bring. Don’t be late, I have a to-do list for you.” I blink, running out of the room.