Without consciously being aware of what I’m doing, I stumble from my seat, my heart rate rising too rapidly.
“Angelo?” I choke out his name, desperate to confirm my eyes aren’t deceiving me.
His gaze cuts over me, colder than I’ve ever seen it.
“Hello, Abella,” he answers with an icy smile. “Nice to see you too.”
The room spins as my vision narrows to a pinpoint, and before I can draw another breath, my legs give out from beneath me.
Someone mutters a curse and captures me before I hit the floor. Fog fills my head as it lolls to the side, and when my face rubs against a solid chest, I detect the faintest hint of citrus and cloves. A scent I know for certain…I’m no longer imagining.
6
ANGELO
The church bursts into chaos as I lift the limp body of my traitorous ex-fiancée into my arms. All at once, everyone in the room rushes toward us, but Natalia and Alessio form a blockade in front of me. Hushed voices ripple through the crowd before one person asks if we need a doctor.
Meanwhile, Natalia fusses over Abella, fanning her face with her hands. Beside her, Alessio tosses me a questioning glance—probably wondering why I bothered to catch her at all. Before he can offer such a smart-ass observation, Abella stirs, blinking several times as she glances around in confusion.
“What—”
The question dies on her lips when she looks up at me.
Yes, Abella.I’m what happened.
A sliver of vulnerability flashes in those pale green eyes that still carry too many secrets. The reaction is predictably on brand for the little liar, but it only leaves me with lingering questions.
Despite my wish to the contrary, our years apart have been good to her. She’s healthy, still haloed by that honeyed warmth that looks like she’s been kissed by the sun. Her features remainthe same—long, dark lashes, high cheekbones, full lips, and impossibly smooth skin unblemished by time or hardship.
Her body has filled out, softening at the edges and developing the kind of generous curves women shell out six figures to recreate. She has a small waist, well-rounded hips, and an ass and tits that look like they were sculpted by Luo Li Rong.
I’d once foolishly compared her beauty to the works of the finest sculptors. At the time, I’d imagined Rong’sForgotten Melody. Now, when I look at her, I can’t help but envision Cellini’s rendition of Perseus wielding the head of Medusa.
If I were smart, I’d toss her onto a church pew and never look at her again. The resentment I’ve harbored for her these past six years has been my constant companion, and as tempting as she might be, she’s still poison. Her eyes are the window to a thousand different memories, but the most potent is one that left a bitter aftertaste I can’t wash away.
Natalia signs something to Abella, and Abella shakes her head, signing the words as she speaks them. “I’m okay. I just…need a moment.”
“Make way.” A sharp voice cuts through the crowd, and when I glance up, Abella’s dumbass guard, Tony Caruso, is bulldozing his way through the onlookers.
I can’t help but question what Abella’s father was thinking by hiring him. He looks like the pipsqueak the other guards would bring around if it were Take Your Kid to Work Day. Stunted growth and weak musculature aside, he’s also wildly ineffective at his job. In the time it took him to get here, I could have had Abella bound, gagged, and stuffed full of my cock while she begged for a second orgasm.
“I’ll take it from here.” He cranes his neck to look up at me as he gestures for me to hand over his charge.
It’s impossible to miss the possessive spark in his eyes, and I can imagine he’s been waiting for an opportunity to presentitself so he can cop a feel. I arch a brow at him, silently challenging him to try.
He’s poised to sign his own death warrant when Alessio steps in. “Tony, I don’t believe you’ve had the chance to meet Angelo Vitale yet.”
Tony’s nostrils flare at the mention of the name. “Vitale? The guest list said it was Angelo Augustine who would be in attendance.”
I stare at him like the annoying gnat he is, and the longer he waits for a response, the more he starts to squirm.
“It’s my job to protect Miss Moretti,” he clips out.
“Yes, and how’s that going for you, Tony?”
“Angelo.” Abella wriggles in my arms, and I tighten my grip.
“Nicky.” I nod at mycapo,who’s been quietly watching the scene unfold. “Help Mr. Caruso to his seat.”
