27
Vincenzo (35 years)
A knock on my door, had me looking up from the file I’d been reading. “Yes.”
Rosana entered, her smile hesitant. “Miss Lucia is here to see you,signor.”
Nodding, I went back to reading the file then looked up to find Rosana still standing there. “What is it?”
“SignoraGianna is going into town.”
“I’m aware.”
“You are not going with her?” I narrowed my eyes at the unusual reproach in her words. She immediately bowed her head. “Mi dispiace, signor,” she apologized and turned to walk out.
“You think I should go with her, Rosana?” my question stopped her, and she slowly rotated.
“No,signore.” She shook her head, fear that she might’ve angered me etched into her brow. “She didn’t eat any breakfast, I worry she might be weak, yes,” she paused, uncertainty replacing her smile then added, “I heard her vomiting this morning and she looked...off-color when she came downstairs.” When I said nothing, she bowed her head. “I will bring Miss Lucia.” I figured if she were talking behind my back, Rosana would’ve rolled her eyes. I held up my hand and she froze to the spot.
Leaning back in my seat, I steepled my fingers in front of me and eyed the petite woman. My housekeeper was good at her job and began working for my father long before my place in the hierarchy was sealed. She was loyal to a fault and one of the few people I could rely on among my staff. Her dislike of Lucia was evident in the way she always made some excuse to busy herself when Lucia visited. I didn’t blame Rosana since Lucia’s endless fawning was at times taxing. Still, she was a good stress reliever when I needed one. Gianna’s arrival, however, seemed to make Rosana’s dislike for Lucia more profound, the look on her face said it all.
“You don’t like her, do you?” I asked.
“Signor?”
“Lucia.”
“No,signor...I mean yes,” she rushed on, flustered, her cheeks turning pink
I leaned my elbow on the armrest and cupped my chin with my thumb and forefinger. “What about Gianna?”
Immediately, Rosana’s face lit up, answering my question without words. “She is a baby, yes?”
“You mean young?”
She nodded. “But she will make you the perfect queen.”
After I’ve tamed her a little more. “Have Marco bring the car around and inform Lucia that I’m busy.” Rosana nodded trying hard to hide the delight on her face before walking out. Perhaps my housekeeper’s affinity for the girl would work in my favor—not that I needed help showing her whose house she’d entered. “Queen indeed.”
I shook my head and reached for the file, glancing out the window as I did. My fingers stilled on the yellow file as my gaze drifted to Gianna, dressed in the engagement dress and being ushered into one of my SUVs. I couldn’t hide my admiration. With long black hair that swirled around a trim waist when she moved, engaging green eyes filled with a dormant fire, waiting to be unleashed, and perfect full lips I wanted wrapped around my cock, she was a stunning girl. Yet, apart from the external beauty, she possessed an innocence that was captivating on its own. Some sixth sense warned me, she’d become a handful if I allowed her. Maybe that’s what I wanted—after I extracted what I wanted from her first, the possibility was there, to let her rule as my queen, circumstances be damned.
Barely twenty-four hours had passed, and she’d tested my fucking restraint more than once. Strangely, the more she challenged me, the more I found myself wanting her, needing to fuck her hard until she screamed in submission. And the more defiant she pretended to act, the more vivid my imagination turned—picturing what it would feel like with her on her knees pleading for a lick at my cock even after I’d turned her mere dislike to unadulterated hate.
Because that’s what I craved most from her—this wasn’t some cliched romance story where we fall in love and live happily ever after. No. I needed that girl to fucking hate me enough to want to kill me. Some might question my motives, but I’d learned a long time ago that the price of happiness was negotiable. It all depended on whose pockets were deeper, who had the right information.
Up until his death, my father taught me one thing. The higher the stakes, the more entertaining the game. And those that knew me knew I played dirty and those that didn’t, they’d find out soon enough. Never go into the fucking ring with Vincenzo Salvatore unless you had an ace or four up your sleeve because chances were I’d have a royal flush, up mine. There was nothing I’d didn’t know and even if I didn’t, I found out very quickly. You couldn’t hide from me, even if you tried hard enough. I always found a way to hunt you down and if I couldn’t get to you now, I eventually would. Because, unlike most double dealers, I always knew how to play my cards right.
There was only one person who’d managed to hide. The difference was, I’d let her and she didn’t even know how her fate had changed overnight. Right now, though, she was climbing into my SUV, on her way to clothe herself at my expense. “And they say chivalry is fucking dead.” I stood and paused while slipping on my jacket when a knock sounded at my door. “Yes.”
Leo entered. “Mr. Mancini is here.”
I’d expected the bastard to wait at least another day or so. “Mendez?”
He wasn’t quick to hide his surprise. “How did you know?”
