Divine in Lingerie: Lingerie #9

by Penelope Sky

  In the back of my mind, I kept waiting for Vanessa to call me and tell me her father changed his mind. I hoped she would have convinced him somehow, had done something to prove to him that what we had was real.

  But she didn’t succeed.

  Now that three months had come and gone, I knew it was really over.

  She wasn’t coming back.

  I had to move on.

  “Bones.”

  I turned to him, my eyes narrowing on his face. “Hmm?”

  “You still putting this place up for sale?”

  “Yeah,” I finally answered. “I’ll head up to Lake Garda.”

  “And where’s all this furniture gonna go?”

  “I guess I’ll take it to the new place, whenever I find one.”

  He moved to the seat beside me, his arms resting on his knees. He glanced at the water glass again. “I’m surprised you’ve stuck to it this long.”

  “Hasn’t been easy. I think I’ve earned the right to go back.”

  “I don’t know about that. You were in a pretty dark place. Having a few drinks might put you there again.”

  “No. If I really didn’t have any control, I wouldn’t have been able to stay sober this long. That was a bad mistake, and I’m ready to move on from it.”

  Max turned his head to look at me, and he watched me with shrewd eyes. “If you were really ready to move on, you would have opened the door to Vanessa’s art room by now. But that door has remained shut for three months.”

  The second she was gone, I shut the door and never opened it again. I pretended it didn’t exist, walking past it every single day without even glancing at it. I wanted it to disappear on its own. I should throw all her stuff away, but that seemed like a waste of all her supplies. But I didn’t want to hold on to it either, not when I had no use for it. “I don’t know what to do with her shit, alright?”

  “Yes, you do. You just don’t want to do it. That tells me you aren’t over it.”

  “I’ll never really be over it, Max.” I stared at my glass of water, which had been untouched since I poured it. Water didn’t taste like anything. It was like drinking air. It didn’t burn my throat or make me feel good. It was pointless.

  “Well, you need to start. You need to be with other women and get back to who you used to be.”

  “Fucking someone isn’t going to magically fix me.”

  “But it’ll start to fix you. You really want to be miserable over this woman forever?”

  “No…”

  He faced forward again. “We’ll toss everything in that room, get you laid, and go back to the way our lives used to be.”

  The plan sounded so simple, but I still couldn’t execute it. Something was holding me back, some misguided hope in my chest. Even though I’d had plenty of time and plenty of closure, I felt like there was something missing. I needed more. “I guess I expected Vanessa to change her father’s mind.”

  “That guy will never change his mind, man. He’s stubborn as hell.”

  “I guess I’ve always held on to a small bit of hope that something would happen—”

  “It’s not, Bones. You need to move on.”

  It’d been three months but I still wasn’t ready. I wasn’t prepared to take the plunge, to really say goodbye forever. “I need more…”

  “More what?”

  “Closure.”

  “How?” he asked. “What does that mean?”

  “I want to see her. Just one more time. I want to see if she’s happy, see what her life is like. Maybe she’s moved on, and seeing her moved on will help me move on.”

  “Bullshit, man. You want to see if she’s as miserable as you are.”

  Was there anything wrong with that?

  “Nothing good can come from this. Let it go.”

  “Look—”

  “No. You made it this long. Forget about her and move on. It would be more beneficial for you to hook up with a woman in a bar instead of hunting down your ex and stalking her like a weirdo. Frankly, it’s pathetic.”

  I bowed my head, knowing he was right. “I hate being like this. I don’t regret loving her, but I regret loving her so much. I regret getting this deep with her. If we’d never told her parents and kept our relationship a secret, I could have enjoyed her longer.”

  He patted my back. “Don’t dwell on it. Just move on. You could have any woman you want. So go out and get her.”

  The only woman I wanted was the one I couldn’t have.

  “You’ve worked this hard to get here. So don’t blow it doing something stupid.”

  I always did stupid things. The stupidest thing I’d ever done was fall in love with a Barsetti.

  And I was even stupider for telling her.

  The next day, I made the five-hour drive to Florence.

  I kept telling myself to turn around and forget this stupid idea. But every time I actually considered turning back, my hand tightened on the wheel and my foot pressed against the gas. I wouldn’t find anything good in Florence, nothing that would make me feel better about the relationship, but it might bring me closure.

  I wanted to know how she was, how her gallery was doing. I didn’t keep tabs on her when I left, knowing watching her would only haunt me. She had the protection of the Barsetti family, so she didn’t need me anyway.

  I’d been thinking about her every single day since we’d been apart, and I needed to know what her life was like now. Did she stay in the apartment above the gallery? Did she keep the gallery? Had she sold the car? Would I see her in the window of her shop, talking with a customer who’d just bought a painting? Would she wear a fake smile, hiding her inner turmoil? Or would her smile be real?

  Was she over me?

  Hours later, I arrived in the city. The sun was starting to go down, and couples walked on the sidewalks as they headed to dinner. I navigated through the motorcyclists and turned on a few narrow streets until I arrived on her street.

  This was my first stop after I left her at the house. I wrote the note and left it on the table, my parting words to her. I didn’t tell her I loved her. It seemed redundant at that point. If I didn’t love her, I would have just kidnapped her and took her to some remote place in the world where her family would never find us. Even if she wanted to escape, I wouldn’t have allowed it. Instead, I let her go, knowing she needed her family more than she needed me.

  But that didn’t mean shit to her father.

  I hated Pearl Barsetti for ruining my inheritance.

  But I hated Crow Barsetti so much more.

  He ruined my life.

  I could be with Vanessa right at that very moment, having dinner together at the dining table. I might be her husband right now. I might be sharing my life with her. But that piece of shit took that away.

  There was a vacant parking spot across the street from her gallery, so I pulled into the space and parked. I was in a white Fiat, blending in with all the other cars on the street. My truck was totaled, so I would never have that again. I wore a black baseball cap, hiding my features as much as possible.

  The lights were still on in her gallery. I looked through the window, waiting to see her walk by. My heart pounded in my chest with angst. The pulse in my ears was like ringing bells. I didn’t want to see her, but at the same time, I couldn’t drive away until I did.

  What did I expect to see? What did I expect to accomplish?

  She moved into my line of sight, her dark hair done in nice curls. Her olive skin was the same, deep in intensity and soft in appearance. She wore a blue dress, sandals on her feet. My eyes had been so focused on her that I didn’t notice the man beside her.

  Italian in appearance, over a foot taller than her, etched in obvious muscularity. I could tell he was a young man who was similar in age. He stood directly beside her, their bodies not touching. They were staring at the painting on the wall.

  Before I panicked and smashed the window, I reminded myself that she wasn’t just an artist, but a businesswo
man, so she needed to sell her work for a profit. That’s all he was, just a customer.

  But even if he wasn’t, it shouldn’t matter.

  I watched them for a few more minutes, saw them move from one painting to the next. She should be closed by now, but maybe she stayed open in the hopes of making a sale. Maybe he wanted to buy several pieces.

  She wasn’t mine anymore. It shouldn’t matter.

  Then I saw something that ripped my heart cleanly in two. It hurt more than saying goodbye to her. It hurt more than the tears I’d shed on that cruel afternoon. Like everything I’d believed had come raining down, the air left my lungs.

  He grabbed her hand and interlocked their fingers together.

  Pain. Unbearable pain.

  Betrayal.

  Hot rage.

  I felt a tumult of emotions, ranging from anger to jealousy to emptiness.

  Then she rested her head on his shoulder.

  The affection was clear. They examined her paintings together as a couple, not as an owner and a customer. He probably worshiped her work, and he was telling her how talented she was at that very moment. It wasn’t clear whether this was a new relationship or one that had been going for a while. The fact that they were alone together in her gallery when it was closed told me he wasn’t a stranger.

  She knew him well.

  Had probably already slept with him.

  I wanted to smash the window of my car.

  Smash the windows of her gallery.

  Strangle him until he choked to death.

  The same rush of adrenaline burst through me, the very kind I experienced before I killed someone. I wanted to kill this man, and I was grateful I couldn’t see his face so it couldn’t haunt me later.

  I had to remind myself that this was inevitable. She couldn’t be alone forever. Whether she waited a few weeks or a few months, it shouldn’t matter. I knew she loved me. I knew what we had was real. If we couldn’t be together, she should be happy.

  Be happy without me.

  Maybe this was the man she wanted, someone her family would adopt into their ranks. Maybe he wasn’t a murderer like I was. Maybe he was clean-cut and boring, respecting her like a gentleman and taking her antique shopping.

  Maybe he was better than me.

  Maybe he was better than I’d ever been.

  No, I couldn’t be angry with her. I couldn’t be jealous either.

  This was how it was supposed to be.

  I was a bad man, a killer and a criminal. I got off on spilled blood. I got off on putting bullets in my enemies. I was a man of the shadows, of the underworld. I liked booze, women, and bullets. I liked paying for sex so I could get exactly what I wanted. I liked not feeling anything, besides murderous rage.

  She was a flower, a flower that belonged in the sun. She needed to be pampered, to sway in the wind under the sky. She was innocent, pure, and beautiful. She wanted a husband, a father for her children. She wanted to have dinner with her family every Sunday night underneath the olive trees. She wanted everything that life had to give, all the beauty, hope, and serenity.

  I wasn’t right for her.

  I wasn’t good enough for her.

  We were from different worlds.

  And we should stay in different worlds.

  I turned the engine back on, and without looking at her again, I pulled onto the road and drove away. I gripped the steering wheel and refused to glance in the rearview mirror to see if they were walking out of the gallery and to her apartment. I focused my gaze straight ahead, leaving the past behind me for good. “Goodbye, Vanessa.”

  Fourteen

  Carter

  I looked at the schematic of the new model I’d created. The design of the exterior was just as important as all the gadgets under the hood and inside the vehicle. From the special formation of the leather seats, to the impressive technology with the touch screen, people wanted the kind of car that both impressed and pissed off others at the same time.

  I was sitting at my desk in my office, in my home situated just outside of Milan. I was in between the city and Verona, having a few acres to myself and a home surrounded by fortifications to keep the people I didn’t want to see off my property.

  I lived under the radar, not because I had anything to hide; I just didn’t like people.

  Anyone, really.

  I like cars, sex, and booze. That was my well-rounded life.

  And I liked it.

  Conway had settled down and taken a wife. With a baby on the way, he’d turned into a family man. I’d seen him fuck three women at once. I’d seen him live in the shadows as well as I did, belonging there without question. But now he’d completely flipped, washing his hands of his past and taking on a new identity.

  At least he was happy.

  A domesticated life like that would never make me happy. I lived my life just the way I was behind the wheel, always going at full speed. Instead of slowing down and avoiding my obstacles, I liked to swerve out of the way and hope for the best.

  I’d never take a wife.

  Shit, I wouldn’t even take a girlfriend.

  My parents never gave me shit about it. Carmen was a beautiful woman, and she would definitely give them grandkids. She was my saving grace, taking that kind of attention from my parents so they would ignore me.

  I didn’t think Conway made a mistake. Sapphire was exquisite, and since she had a special quality that obsessed him, she seemed to be a good match. And she didn’t seem to care about his billions either.

  But I still couldn’t believe it happened.

  I was a bigger asshole than my cousin, rough around the edges in a way he never was. I didn’t think before I spoke, and as a result, I pissed off a lot of people. But that was fine with me. I preferred to be transparent, so people would know exactly what they were getting from me. They didn’t have unrealistic expectations.

  Carter Barsetti was cold, ruthless, and a bit of an asshole.

  My phone rang on the desk, and I paused with my schematic to check the number. It was a number I didn’t recognize, from a country code somewhere near Russia. Just because I didn’t recognize a number didn’t mean it wasn’t important. I took the call. “Carter.” I kept looking at my drawing of the new model, only giving half my attention to the phone call.

  “Egor Sokolov. Nice to meet you, Carter Barsetti.” A heavy Russian accent came over the line, naturally formidable.

  That name didn’t mean anything to me. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m glad you asked. My younger sister was taken by the Skull Kings. I’ve been told you’re the only person who can recover women in this circumstance.” For a man who’d lost his sister, he didn’t seem choked up about it. He spoke with a pragmatic tone, like we were discussing what kind of paint job a car should have. Most of my clients were either panicked or somewhat emotional. I’d heard grown men cry over the phone as they begged me to save their daughter.

  “I used to be in that business. I’m not anymore.”

  Heavy silence fell, the kind that was full of explosive disappointment. “I’m sure you can make an exception.”

  I made a promise to my father, and I was the kind of man that kept promises. “I’ve been out of the game for a while. Too much liability. I’m sorry about your sister but—”

  “Name your price.”

  I’d never heard a man make that kind of offer. “I’m really not—”

  “Any price.”

  I sat back in my leather chair, my eyes narrowing on nothing in particular. I squeezed the pen in my hand, my nostrils flaring with hostility. “Interrupt me one more time, and see what happens. I’ll fly over there to the wasteland you live in and shove a pistol up your ass and pull the trigger.” No one came to me and asked for a favor then turned around and interrupted me. That shit wasn’t going to fly.

  Egor turned quiet, his annoyance simmering. After a while, he spoke. “My apologies.” His voice was restrained, like he was forcing himself to say the
words even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “My sister is very important to me, Carter. I understand you aren’t in the business anymore, but perhaps this could be your last job. I’m willing to pay you anything to make it happen.”

  The highest amount I’d ever been paid was fifty million dollars, and that was a fluke. But that wasn’t enough to get me to change my mind. “I’m sorry, Egor. But it’s not going to happen. The Skull Kings are the kind of psychopaths you don’t want to cross.”

  “You’ve been crossing them for years.”

  “Yes. And I got out before it became a problem.”

  “Then one more time won’t hurt.”

  I chuckled. “Persistent, huh?”

  “Carter, how does a hundred million sound?”

  That was double the highest amount I’d been paid. Most people offered between ten and fifteen million. This was definitely the most lucrative offer I’d ever received. It was enough to get my attention.

  “We have a deal?”

  The money was enticing, especially since the payday was so easy. All I had to do was bid on her then hand her over. It was a simple transaction. But then my father’s words haunted me. I was close with my father, and I didn’t want to disappoint him. “I made a promise to someone that I would stay out of the game.”

  “It’s only one time. No one will know.”

  He was probably right, but was it worth the risk?

  “One-fifty.”

  A hundred and fifty million? “Your sister must be one hell of a woman.”

  His smile was audible. “Yes. She is.”

  Now, I was seriously tempted. I would get in, get out, and never show my face again. I wasn’t Conway Barsetti, but everyone in our circles knew how close we were. The Skull Kings would allow me inside, especially if I told them I was working on my cousin’s behalf. I could do it one time, and no one would ever know.

  It would be the easiest fortune I’d ever made.

  Egor’s voice burned through the phone. “So, you in?”

  I still didn’t give my answer.

  “Come on, Carter. It’s the easiest one-fifty you’ve ever made.”