Her face paled as she nodded. “Is there something wrong? Is Lina in trouble at school?”
“Oh no, not at all. This is a friendly visit.”
“Okay. Phew.” She wiped her forehead with the back of her busy hand dramatically, allowing herself to breathe. “She’s in her room. Lina! You have a visitor!”
A door unlocked as Nicole put away the mess in her grip, footsteps, light and hesitant, in the background. Then my beautiful Angel came out of the hallway, the violin in her hand. Was she about to start practicing?
“Ahhhhh!” She jumped the second she saw me, her hair wild, and the violin flew off her hand.
Quickly, I ran to catch it before it hit the floor. Her gasps landed on my cheek, her sweet scent intoxicating. She, too, was wearing shorts. Cream. Perfect for her beautiful, tanned legs. I straightened, holding the violin between us. My gaze skipped the generous view of her chest in that green tank top—her fucking nipples were showing, and I wanted to do depraved things to them—and locked on her eyes. “Careful now.”
“What are you screaming for?” Nicole glared at her. I pretended not to notice the heavy nudge she gave Angel in the ribs. “This is Mr. Bellomo, Lina. Mr. Bellomo himself.”
Angel tucked the messy strands behind her ears. “I…I… The men in black at the door scared me.”
“Apologies.” I smirked. “They’re not a threat. Not to you.”
She snatched the violin and stepped back as Nicole headed for the door. “Are they coming in?”
I shook my head, so Nicole was about to close the door.
“No! Keep it open!” Angel jumped again.
I inched a brow, laughing under my breath. Then I leaned in for a whisper, but not too close and not too quietly. The things I wanted to do to her were forbidden even for me. Standing too close dissolved my willpower, rendering it almost nonexistent. Even my voice I wouldn’t be able to control. I’d sound exactly like I did that night. Struggling. Barely restrained. “I can assure you my men are tougher than your door. They won’t let anything or anyone in or out without my permission.”
She gulped before she barely whispered back. “Don Bellomo, what are you doing here? Please, my sister doesn’t know anything.”
“Don?” I leaned back, studying her face.
“I’m…I’m sorry…I…”
“You said nothing wrong. I like it from you. It’s honest.”
She gulped again.
“Angelina, you don’t have to be scared. I just need to talk to you about something. But first, put the violin somewhere safe…and wear something different.”
Her hand flew to her chest, and her cheeks turned dark pink. So beautiful. “Yeah. Sure. Sorry.”
She hurried away, and I found the couch again, letting out a long, heated breath.She’s still fucking seventeen.
So it’s okay for Leo and not for you? He’s over nineteen, and he sure has pictured her seventeen-year-old body doing all kinds of nasty things to him. Have you seen the way he eats her with his stare?
Cazzo!Clenching my fists, I growled.
“Mr. Bellomo, are you okay?” Nicole asked me warily.
I want to punch my own son bloody, kidnap your sister, put her in a place where no one else gets to see her but me and do very bad, unspeakable things to her, but other than that everything is just fine.“Si. I’m great.”
“Can I offer you anything? Coffee? Juice? A sandwich?”
Whiskey would have been nice. “Thanks. I’m good.”
Angel came back, a bra under her long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans covering her legs. She sat quietly across from me, tugging at the edges of her sleeves, her eyes wary at her sister who was still cleaning up.
“On a second thought, I’d like that coffee, Nicole. Sugar. No cream,” I said.
“Sure, Mr. Bellomo.” She walked away toward the kitchen, and Angel sighed in relief.
