I have a feeling it won’t be easy.
9
Kane
The guard on duty stands up straighter when I drive up to the gate and then nods when I lower the window.
“Sir.”
“Anything of interest?” Angelo leaves security matters to me. His time is better spent managing the family business and curbing his father’s worst excesses.
“No, sir. All quiet. Only Mr. Di Rossi and his wife are home. Mr. Luka too.” I drive on.
The last I heard, the little shit was in Europe, hanging out with some equally feckless friends with more money than sense. He swings back home periodically, catches up with Fina for a day or so, and then disappears again. It’s rare for him to visit this house, as he and Angelo are not close.
Fina must have told him the runaway bride is back in town.
I toss my key fob to Horatio on the way into the house, who greets me with his usual polite smile. The man trained at a fancy butler school in London. Worth every penny, Angelo says.
I can’t quite see it myself, but then I’m more used to wiping my own ass.
The sound of splashing draws me through the family room to where the sliding door is ajar. It’s a glorious day. Hot, but not unbearably so.
A woman in a pale blue bikini stands on the edge of the pool with her back to me. She’s laughing at whatever Luka just said. The pair of them appear best friends, which is strange given they only just met a couple of days ago.
Neither of them has seen me yet, so I lean against the door frame and observe.
Chiara looks a damn sight better than she did when I tracked her down. She’s gained a few pounds, and after a few days in the sun, her skin glows. She was pretty when she fought like a demon to escape my clutches, but now she’s gorgeous.
Truly stunning.
It’s amazing what good food and sunshine can do for a woman.
For a minute, jealousy curdles my stomach. Angelo has always had his pick of the women in our world; they gravitate to him as the richer of our twosome. Not that they don’t want me too, but only for a night or two. Or as the extra filling in our sandwich.
This woman has fire in her veins. I’ll enjoy making her beg for me.
“Stop ogling my wife,” Angelo says through gritted teeth as he appears at my side like Caspar, the murderous ghost.
“Just admiring the view,” I reply. “What’s the story with the prodigal son?” Chiara dives into the pool, cutting through the water like a seal, emerging at the far end. We both watch as she pulls herself out of the pool. When she arches her back to squeeze water from her long hair, I almost groan.
“His plans fell through. No clue why he’s still here,in my house.” Angelo’s jaw tightens with barely concealed irritation.
“I think the reason for that is over there,” I point out.
We’re both glued to the woman as she arranges her exquisite body on a recliner next to Luka. From the way he looks at herwhile she smiles at him, he’s equally smitten. Then he catches us watching them. I don’t miss the faint smirk he throws our way.
The little shit knows exactly what he’s doing.
He’s fully aware of Chiara’s status as Angelo’s wife and baby mama-to-be. Yes, it’s fucked up, but what choice did Angelo have? Lorenzo made the deal with Vivian Farucci behind his back. The old man wants Angelo to settle down. He’s tired of waiting as a procession of models and influencers traipse in and out of Angelo’s life via a revolving door.
Fina’s next, although I’m not sure she’s ready to accept her fate from what Angelo tells me.
“I’m going to kill him,” Angelo remarks as Luka picks up a bottle of suntan lotion and starts rubbing it into Chiara’s shoulders. Her wet hair, currently a golden brown color, drapes over her full breasts.
I picture wrapping a hunk of that hair around my fist as I sink into her dripping wet cunt from behind while she moans.
“Oh?” I reply, still imagining how she’d feel around my cock. Hot and tight. Perfect.
