The Billionaire and The Virgin

by Bella Love-Wins

“I’m nervous.”

  “About what? You already know Angelo's family.”

  “Most of them, yeah.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  I chewed on my bottom lip and tried to figure it out. “It’s just… I don’t know… Maybe it’s because it’s Christmas. It makes me think of all the ones in the past.”

  “The ones with Mom and Dad?”

  “Yeah,” I choked out.

  “Have you been remembering any of them?”

  I shook my head.

  “But you might.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  But did I want to? I didn’t know. All I knew was I had this impending feeling of doom when it came to Christmas. That suggested I either had a bad and repressed or forgotten memory attached to it or I either had only joyful memories and was just struggling with celebrating the holidays past those.

  This is an assumption based on my past experiences working to figure myself out.

  But really, heck if I knew. I’m no shrink.

  We finally managed to check out. Escaping the mall into Columbus Circle was like being born again. The fresh and cold air hit my lungs, invigorating me and bringing me back to life.

  “It’s too hot inside places in the winter,” I grumbled as we ran across the circle in front of oncoming traffic. “It’s like stores are trying to convince us we’re in the Bahamas.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  We stopped at the subway entrance and she gave me a kiss on the cheek. “See you tomorrow?”

  “Bright and early.”

  She hurried down the steps, her four shopping bags so laden down with goods they nearly scraped the cement.

  Pulling my hat down further over my ears, I set off along West 59th, taking the path skirting the south end of Central Park. Though the air was icicle cold, the city had yet to receive its first snow fall.

  The lights of the fancy hotels glimmered even in the pre-dusk. This part of the city always hustled with activity, but this time of year added something special. Small potted fir trees lining the streets glowed with white Christmas lights. Doormen grinned as they hurried to help ladies with their bags. Children hung onto parents with gloved hands and jumped up and down to see a policeman on a horse go by.

  I seemed to be the only one not enjoying the moment.

  Over the past year my memories had been slow coming back. They were mostly unimportant ones. A test taken at school in fifth grade. A sleepover at my junior high friend Jamie’s house on Staten Island.

  There wasn’t much in there about Christmas.

  I checked the time on my phone. Twenty minutes till I needed to meet Angelo at Rockefeller Center. I could take my sweet time walking there.

  Nothing screams Christmas like Rockefeller Center. After turning down onto Sixth Avenue then hanging a left onto 51st, I arrived at the plaza. Permanent trees strung with blue lights lined the zone, an introduction to the main multicolored Christmas tree.

  Ice skaters shrieked and laughed under the shadow cast by the large tree, spinning and flying on the pristine white rink. I stopped at the railing and pressed myself against it. Closing my eyes, I took a long breath. The sounds around me seemed to exist in a weird place between joy and terror. People could either be yelling from happiness or fear. It was hard to tell.

  Had it always been that way?

  Sophia’s comment about me being paranoid socked me in the gut.

  Because it was true. I was paranoid. And anxious. It was kind of hard not to be after you abruptly retrieved the repressed memory of your parents being murdered in cold blood right in front of you.

  Processing something like that took some time.

  I opened my eyes.

  And nearly jumped out of my skin.

  “Angelo!” I shouted.

  He stood only inches away, pressed against the railing just like me.

  “Sorry,” he grinned, wrapping an arm around my back. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s okay.” I buried my face into his coat.

  “How did shopping go?”

  “Sophia got herself a lot of nice things.”

  He chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

  “How was your meeting?”

  “Good. Looks like we’re making some leeway with the Louisiana properties.” His hand trailed down to grasp hold of mine. “You ready to go home?”

  Home.

  There could be nothing better than hearing him say the word.

  Angelo hailed a cab and we climbed in, snuggling up next to each other in the corner. The light slipped away from the streets as we rode through Manhattan, being replaced instead with the artificial twinkling of the holidays.

  The penthouse welcomed us, the perfect temperature. Not too cold. Not too hot. Nothing like a stuffy shopping mall.

  Yep. Hands down, Angelo’s was my favorite place in the city.

  No sooner did my coat hit the hanger in the front closet than did Angelo’s hands wrap around my waist.

  I closed my eyes and dropped my head back against him. He kissed the back of my neck, teasing me around my most sensitive spot there. His palms pressed against my stomach, pulling my back into his chest, and rubbing my ass against his groin. With a growl and a nip against my throat, he swooped me up and carried me across the living room.

  Setting me down on the couch, he climbed on top of me. His tie trailed across my navel and I grabbed hold of it and pulled him down for a kiss.

  The kiss got hungrier and hungrier. His tongue pushed across mine, exploring my mouth, looking for the next big excitement.

  Despite being together for almost a year, sleeping with Angelo never got boring. Never.

  I spread my legs wider, nearly falling off the couch in the process. Kissing me deeper, Angelo, sent his hand under my skirt. With a fluid unroll, my tights came down to my ankles.

  I started to kick my flats off so that I could get the tights off as well, but Angelo abruptly broke his kiss to flip me sideways. My face pressed into the cushions.

  A buckle jingled as Angelo undid his belt. One arm slipped underneath me and he pushed his chest against my back. Sandwiched there, I couldn’t move.

  He entered me gently, his hot breath washing into my ear.

  I whimpered softly, all my muscles going limp. Taking my ear lobe between his teeth, Angelo nibbled and pumped into me.

  I wiggled a little bit, testing out my free rein, but there was nowhere to go. I was held captive.

  ...And enjoying every second of it.

  Angelo's other hand came around my waist to press between my legs. Delicately he rubbed there, adding to the pleasure. I cried as pleasure expanded into an orgasm, pounding through me like thunder.

  Sensing my release, Angelo growled in satisfaction.

  Withdrawing from me, he flipped me over onto my back and pulled my tights off. Leaning down to press our chests together, he entered me again. His tongue against mine mimicked the movement of his hips, pulsing and pushing into me.

  He sped up a little bit, shuddering slightly. I bit his bottom lip, pulling it just hard enough. He came hard, grunting into my mouth.

  I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close. He scooted down a bit to put his head against my chest.

  Already my eyes were getting heavy. Working to suppress a sigh, I trailed my fingers through his hair.

  “I’m glad you’re coming tomorrow,” Angelo whispered into my shoulder.

  My throat got tight. I was glad, but terrified.

  Yet I felt I couldn’t say that, since I couldn’t really explain why I was so scared.

  The best I could do would be to just try and forget about the sick feeling in my stomach.

  And hope that it would one day go away.

  Angelo

  Sophia leaned back in her cream-colored leather seat, her stiletto boots kicking into the air.

  “You couldn’t get a bigger jet?”

  I stared at her.

  “Kidding!” she exclaime
d. “I’m totally kidding.”

  “Not everyone gets your sense of humor, Soph,” Paige chided her from a facing seat.

  Sophia rolled her eyes. “You mean not everyone understands genius? I think Angelo got it just fine.”

  “Don’t worry,” I answered, closing up my laptop and putting it away. “Next time I’ll call the president and see if he’s using his jet that weekend.”

  “Thank you,” Sophia smiled.

  Next to me, Paige picked up her martini glass and plucked the olive from its contents. I tried not to stare as she sucked the gin from the fruit.

  “What do you think, Angelo?” Sophia asked. “Is it worth selling?”

  I ran my palm across my jaw and thought about it. “That depends on how much effort you want to put into the place. You’re pretty busy as it is.”

  She shrugged. “I only have one job.”

  Paige guffawed into her drink.

  We all knew about Sophia’s second job. She just preferred we didn’t talk about it much.

  Still, it could be hard to ignore the elephant in the room. Or, more specifically, the professional assassin.

  “Plus, it’s my call which DJ gigs I take,” she went on. “It’s entirely up to me to make my own schedule in that department. And I’m kind of liking the real estate game. It’s like playing poker, you know? Negotiating is all a mental game.”

  Paige jutted her chin at her sister. “Have you ever played poker?”

  Soph winked. “I’ve got lots of secrets.”

  “I’m sure you do,” I replied, amused. “What are you thinking? You girls want to go back to Italy and see it yourself?”

  They exchanged a glance, using that impossibly decipherable and silent twin language.

  Upon finding out they had been given Paige’s deceased almost-husband’s property in Italy, the three of us took off to Italy to inspect the goods.

  Moretti’s mansion had been impressive. And so were the millions that the girls got for selling it.

  Funny enough, though, they still kept their little apartment and Paige still worked her regular office job. They seemed to have attachments to those things, something I just didn’t understand. It’s funny how much we can not want routine things to change.

  Under my tutelage, they invested the money and began to get their hands into real estate. Mostly Sophia was the interested one. Paige didn’t seem to care much either way. She hadn’t wanted the house in Italy.

  She didn’t want anything of Moretti’s. Which explained why she’d been more than eager to invest the money rather than spend a cent of it.

  “Sell it,” Paige said, referring to Moretti’s second property, the one we had yet to deal with. “Or burn it to the ground.”

  Sophia rolled her eyes. “We might as well burn money.”

  I cleared my throat, sensing budding tension. “Let’s talk about it after the holidays.”

  “Deal,” Paige replied, leaning into the side of her seat so that her shoulder brushed mine.

  “Who all is going to be in Chicago?” Sophia asked.

  “Let’s see. My parents. And Franko, Dominic, and Lia...”

  “God, I haven’t seen Lia in years!”

  “I still don’t remember her,” Paige said.

  “You haven’t met… or, I guess, re-met her?” Sophia asked.

  “Nope. She’s the only person in Angelo’s family that I haven’t, I think.”

  I rubbed the top of Paige’s thigh. “She’s going to be thrilled to see you both. Oh, I almost forgot! Tre will probably be there as well. He’s kind of become a staple at Salvatore gatherings.”

  “And what about crazy family rituals?” Sophia pressed. “Anything there we need to prepare ourselves for? Any chanting over the ham or dancing naked around a bonfire in the woods?”

  “We’re not pagans, Sophia.”

  A shiver ran through the arm Paige pressed against me. I reached over and rubbed both her shoulders. “Are you all right? Are you cold?”

  “I’m fine,” she said to a spot six inches off from my face.

  “You’re pale.”

  Paige looked at the floor. “Really, I’m fine. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

  Sophia’s lips pursed.

  Something was going on.

  “What is it?” I questioned.

  They exchanged a look.

  “All right,” I nearly shouted. “I can respect your psychic twin abilities most of the time, but sometimes it gets pretty annoying. If something is going on...”

  Paige cut me off. “I’m just nervous. That’s all.”

  “Nervous? But you know my family, Paige. They adore you. My dad thinks the sun rises and sets on both of you.”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “I know, it’s just… It’s the whole Christmas thing.”

  I hugged her a little tighter. “You don’t like Christmas?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I used to love it, but now I don’t know.”

  Sophia let out an unmistakable angry sigh. “Have you guys been talking about this at all? I really think it’s time you just told him, Paige.”

  Fear itched in my chest. A dozen possible bombs formed in my mind. “Tell me what?”

  Paige’s jaw ticked. “It’s no big deal. I’ve just been feeling kind of nervous.”

  “About this trip?”

  “Yes, and about… other things.”

  “For how long?”

  She pushed back a lock of her long dark hair. “Um, a while.”

  “Months,” Sophia said. “It’s been growing for months. She needs to go back to therapy, Angelo.”

  Paige’s eyes flashed. “I can handle this!”

  “Trust me. You can’t,” Sophia snapped, before crossing her arms. “I’m just trying to make sure you get help.”

  Paige forced a smile. You could tell it was fake by the way the corners of her mouth trembled. “How about we add this to the list of things we talk about after the holidays?”

  “That doesn’t really seem right,” I carefully told her. “Since you’re dealing with these feelings right now.”

  “It’s fine. It comes and goes. It’ll be gone soon.”

  The new information stung. “So just how long has this been going on for? And you never thought to tell me?”

  Her eyes glistened. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  I sighed. “Oh, Paige. I want to worry about you. It’s my job.”

  I want to do it for the rest of my life.

  I thought about adding that last part, but the timing wasn’t right. Especially not with my girlfriend’s sister sitting just a few feet away. A line needed to be drawn somewhere.

  I searched for a level way to finish the conversation. “Just promise me this talk isn’t over.”

  She smiled slightly. “Deal.”

  Sophia sat up straighter. “Hey, look! Is that Chicago over there?”

  I turned around in my seat to get a better view out of the window. “Yep, that’s it.”

  The pilot came on, announcing we were close to landing. The three of us buckled ourselves in. Sophia started drilling me on the best places to shop around the greater Chicago area while Paige fell silent. I held her hand, noting how light and cold it seemed.

  Paige could try and brush her feelings off, but they were a bigger deal than she’d let on to. Looking back, it became clear there had been signs over the last few months. She started a lot easier than she used to, and she didn’t seem to want to go out as much as before.

  Every once in a while, I asked her if she had any memories come back, but she always replied in the negative.

  But maybe her warped emotional state was a reaction to a still repressed memory.

  What could be worse than watching your parents be murdered?

  I stifled a sigh.

  Whatever was going on with Paige, whatever was causing her fear, I would figure it out.

  I would fix everything.

  Paige

  I twis
ted my bracelet around and around. Oak trees and houses, each one bigger than the last, passed by the car.

  “How much longer?”

  “Just a few minutes,” Angelo replied. “We’re almost there.”

  He smiled at me reassuringly. I forced a smile back.

  The scene in the jet had been a serious catastrophe. Okay, so I hadn’t told Angelo about the itching feeling constantly at the back of my neck. The one that told me danger was just around the corner, that there were foes and terror to be found everywhere. I hadn’t told him about the nightmares, terrible dreams where I came home from work to find both him and Sophia shot dead.

  The worst thing about feeling anxious is that it’s hard to tell whether the things causing your feelings are inside of you or outside of you.

  An example?

  You know you’re afraid to get on the interstate because you might get in a car accident and die. But you don’t know if you’re feeling this way because the interstate is legitimately a dangerous place to be or if you’re just projecting your constant fear onto whatever circumstance is right in front of you.

  Fear warps reality. It makes you question everything.

  Like Christmas.

  Yep, it can even make you dread what’s, for most people, the most joyful time of the year.

  Unless that dread is attached to fear of something totally legit. Something you can’t remember.

  What if Christmas brought up an awful memory for me? What if I couldn’t handle being around Angelo’s family because it reminded me too much of the one I lost?

  My ears buzzed. I stuttered something unintelligible, realized I’d skipped a breath.

  Hands shaking a bit, they dove into my purse for my inhaler. Angelo and Sophia’s eyes rested on me, pressing against my skin, questioning why I was close to an asthma attack, but I ignored them.

  Taking a hit, I looked out the window. The suburbs of Chicago were just as snow-less as New York. The decorative reindeer and blow up snowmen in front yards looked like they were sitting in the middle of a Halloween scene.

  “Here it is,” Angelo announced.

  The driver turned the car left and stopped at the gate. A female voice came on the intercom to ask who it was.

  Angelo leaned forward from his seat to shout at the device. “It’s me, Mariel!”