Chapter Three,

Making Enemies

It continued that way throughout the entire dinner.

Whenever she addressed him, she did so out of politeness. Asking him how his day was, how he liked the city, cracking a few jokes. But whenever she spoke, only Nonna graced her with a response. Gray ignored her, choosing to focus completely on his food rather than waste his time acknowledging her presence. And if he chose to glance her way, it was with a look of annoyance marring his features and a hard-set jaw refusing to speak to her.

Even Nonna seemed to acknowledge the issue—or, at least, that was what Yuly assumed when the two began to speak in Italian among themselves yet again. But that solved nothing. The stubborn man only let out an annoyed-sounding scoff, plump lips pulling into a thin line.

Yuly frowned, chewing her food slowly, the taste affected by her gradually declining mood. He was so disinterested in her that he didn't even want to look at her, let alone feign enough interest to have a conversation with her.

She didn't want to let it get to her, but she couldn't help it. It made her feel small, irrelevant. No longer was she the confident Yuly Darling. No, she was reduced to the shy, insecure Yuliana Darling she had been all her life.

And all it took was Gray's blank stare.

She briefly remembered how Nonna had gushed over the man earlier that day. Sweet, she called him. But there was nothing sweet about him. Not in the way that he ignored her presence, as if she were less than human. Nonna was clearly blinded by his looks to call the man before them sweet. He was terrible, and so was his personality, she decided then. And if his personality was terrible without the memories, she'd hate to see him when his memories returned.

She set down her fork, her appetite suddenly gone. She didn't want to sit through this awkward tension, especially when she didn't deserve it. She gave Nonna a small, forced smile.

"This was delicious as always. But, I think it's time for me to go," Yuly spoke softly, feeling slightly guilty that she wasn't staying for their usual dinner and movie. But she couldn't. She refused to. And Nonna would understand that, right?

The older woman smiled understandingly. "Of course, dear, you've had a busy day. Let me pack your dinner for you, and then you can be on your way."

The woman moved quickly, before Yuly could protest. Gray rose after her, taking his plate and unbearable aura with him. She couldn't wait to go to her apartment and pretend this night, no, the entire day, hadn't happened. It was terrible from start to finish, and the only good thing about it was the food.

"I'll do the dishes," he said.

Yuly paused at the deep, accented voice that met her ears. Mouth slightly agape, she glanced into the kitchen, eyes wide with disbelief as she saw Gray nearing the sink. English? He could fucking speak English?

He really was ignoring her.

Nonna shook her head. "Non. I've got the dishes." She walked back into the dining area, handing Yuly a pair of Tupperware containers, one filled with chicken tetrazzini and the other filled with tiramisu. "But please, walk Yuly back to her apartment. I would hate for her to be alone so late at night. You know how dangerous it can be for young women these days."

Yuly blinked, almost as if the action would help her hear better. Because she surely had not heard what she thought she did. No, there was no way. Nonna had been here throughout the entirety of the awkward dinner, saw firsthand how the man refused to speak English with her, to look at her, to acknowledge her existence—and now she wanted him to walk her home?

"No," she said, her head shaking slowly. She managed to muster a small, awkward smile. "No, I'm okay, it's not far—"

"We're leaving," he muttered, walking past the two. He opened the door and stood, waiting silently, arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame, staring into empty space. She sat for a moment, shocked by the words that fell from his lips.

But why? She sat there, her eyes darting between the two, feeling more confused than she'd been the entire night. The one time she wanted him to ignore her existence, he didn't? He just decided to go along with Nonna's wishes, out of the blue? What was his deal?

Nonna simply laughed, turning back to the kitchen.

"Goodnight, Passerota."

"But—"

"Enjoy your food."

The conversation was well and truly over. Gray was going to walk her to her apartment, and that was that. She rose slowly from her seat, food in hand, as she began her slow walk to the door. They exited shortly, her following as he led the way to the elevator. She watched him cautiously, like a scared lamb before a lion, waiting for the moment he would pounce. But he didn't. He was silent. Even as the elevator doors opened and shut, he remained silent.

And she couldn't take it anymore.

"Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?" she asked cautiously, her voice sounding small as it filled the elevator. When he didn't respond, she added, "Because if it's about the surprise date, I never wanted it. It was just as unwelcome for you as it was for me."

Silence. He didn't even look at her. It made her feel even more nervous.

Did he honestly have to ignore her so openly? And did she have to react like this? It wasn't like her, at all. Not anymore. So why didn't her mouth stop?

"—But I couldn't just not come to dinner. Nonna's cooking is amazing, and I can't cook to save my life. I thought she canceled it or at least told you I was coming, but if I made you uncomfortable, then I apologize."

She hadn't meant to rush her words, but she was nervous. And when she was nervous, her tongue felt heavy, her cheeks grew hot, and her words flew at the speed of light. God, she felt like a kid all over again. This was crazy. Get it together, Yuly.

For a moment, the elevator was silent. Then, for the first time since dinner, Gray turned to face her. He stared at her in silence, as if he were contemplating his answer.

The elevator door sprang open, breaking the silence.

"No," he said. He didn't elaborate further as he exited the elevator, resuming his vow of silence.

"No?" she repeated, incredulous. She followed after him, quickening her steps. "What do you mean no? Then why are you—"

He spun around so abruptly that she couldn't help but flinch. His gaze bore into her, an intimidating force as he closed in on her personal space. Step by step, she instinctively retreated until her back pressed against the unforgiving wall.

"What the hell do you think you're—"

"You just can't shut up, can you?" he interrupted, his voice dripping with a mix of condescension and irritation. His hand rested above her head, sending alarm bells ringing in her mind. Cold gray eyes swept over her face, devoid of emotion. "You talk too damn much. Going on about nothing like a whiny kid craving my attention."

Her jaw dropped in pure disbelief, his condescending tone circling her ears.

"Now, this might be a bit hard for you to grasp, so pay attention," he uttered in a low, raspy voice, his eyes never leaving hers. "You're going to walk away. Walk away from me, back to your place. Lock the damn door behind you. And—"

He paused, his gaze lingering on her face. Her wide, doe-like eyes. Her slightly parted lips. Slowly, he met her gaze once more.

"Never speak to me again. Understand?"

The color drained from her face, shock quickly replaced by anger. He was horrible! What about this man was sweet? Swallowing hard, she mustered the steadiest voice she could.

"Believe me," she muttered, hoping he missed the way her voice shook. "Even if you begged me, I wouldn't waste a single word on you."

Despite her bold tone, her heart pounded relentlessly in her chest. When was the last time she had spoken so coldly? When had she ever needed to?

As if he could see right through her, his eyebrow arched, and a sardonic smirk twisted his lips.

"Is that so?"

"Very," she asserted, her voice steadier this time. "Now, can we please wrap this up? I've got better things to do."

His smirk gave way to a slow smile, but there was nothing remotely pleasant about it. How could someone so handsome be so rude? What a waste of such a nice face.

Letting his arm down, he backed away, holding her gaze as he retreated from her personal space. "Great," she smiled, feigning a dismissive tone. "Glad we had this chat."

Despite wanting to appear unbothered, Yuly turned quickly, fleeing down the hall without so much as a glance over her shoulder. She reached the end of the hall quickly, fumbling to put her key in the lock. When the door finally opened, she wanted to cry in relief. God, she just wanted this terrible day to be over.

"Goodnight, bambolina."

"Prick."

She slammed the door shut, locking it promptly and leaning against the door. Her heart hammered against her chest as his words played through her mind once again. Every rude action and look replayed in her mind like a bad movie. She felt so embarrassed thinking of how she had tried to be so nice, how she had talked so much.

Never speak to him again?

She was more than happy to oblige.