by Penelope Sky
“Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’m not,” she said quickly. “It’s just scary. Pretty much everyone told me to stay with Liam because with him, I had more money than I knew what to do with, and I had a strong man who could protect me against everything. But I just…couldn’t look at him the same. I didn’t want to settle if I wasn’t happy.”
Anyone else would have taken the easy way out, especially since he seemed sincere in his regret. But I admired her for refusing to settle for less than what she deserved, for knowing that he shouldn’t have cheated on her in the first place. The fact that she was perfect in every way imaginable just made his infidelity worse.
What was the asshole thinking?
“I think you made the right decision, but I’m incredibly biased.”
She chuckled. “I guess you are.”
We never talked about the time when I hid in the bedroom. Once he was gone, I left because I needed to get to work. There wasn’t much to say anyway. The guy was still in love with her and couldn’t face the harsh reality of losing her. I never told her that he and I had butted heads at the bank when he was in my office. She might stop seeing me if she knew we’d crossed paths.
Patricia knocked on the door moments later, and I answered it half naked to take the tray from her. She didn’t blink an eye over it because she’d seen me in just a towel many times. She was in her late forties, moving here from Greece after her husband passed away. She didn’t have any children, so she enjoyed making a home for me. I was nearly half her age, so she probably looked at me like a son.
“Thanks, Patricia.” I set the tray on the table and listened to her shut the door behind me.
Annabella got out of bed and helped herself to the dresser against the wall. She found a t-shirt of mine and put it on. “Do you mind?”
A beautiful woman in my t-shirt? Fuck no, I didn’t mind. “Help yourself.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, her long legs sexy underneath the t-shirt. She’d picked a white cotton shirt, a perfect contrast to her sun-kissed skin. With no panties underneath, she stopped at the dining table and looked at the meal. “Wow…that looks delicious.”
It was two steaks, mashed potatoes, and asparagus. “Not to be braggy, but Patricia is a good cook.” I uncorked the bottle of red wine and poured two glasses. I wasn’t a big fan of red wine, but Patricia probably included it in the meal since I was entertaining.
“I can tell just by smelling it.” She took a seat and moved the glass of wine toward her. After a sip, she nodded appreciatively. “Good wine. Barsetti vineyards?”
“You know your wine.”
She shrugged. “I drink a lot.”
I sat across from her, and we started to eat.
She took her time eating, choosing to pause several times so she could enjoy the wine Patricia had paired with it. She subtly licked her lips, just the way she did after she devoured my cock. Even something as basic as eating was sexy when she did it. “How long have you been here?”
“About ten years.”
“It’s nice. But it’s pretty big for just one person.”
I cut into my steak and took a bite, appreciating the fact that there was no judgment in her tone. “I like my space.”
“You have a nice perimeter too. Would be difficult to get in here.”
Being married to Liam clearly made her think about these things, about safety and protection. Maybe that was why she didn’t blink an eye when I told her I was a drug dealer. “Helps me sleep at night.”
She continued to eat again, running out of questions. She didn’t ask for personal details about my life, probably because she didn’t want me to pry in return. There seemed to be a thin wall around her body.
If we weren’t fucking, we didn’t have much to say to each other.
But it was kinda nice…to say nothing at all.
“Have family in Florence?” She dragged her steak through the creamy mashed potatoes, combining the two flavors before she placed the bite into her mouth.
“Yes. My father lives a few blocks away. My sister is also in town.”
“Oh, that’s nice. Are you close with your sister?”
I shrugged. “We don’t have gossip hour, but I would kill anyone that crossed her.”
She smiled slightly. “Protective brother…got it. How old is she?”
“A few years younger than me. What about you?”
She shook her head. “I’m alone. My parents passed away years ago, and I’m an only child.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She returned her gaze to her food. “It is what it is…”
We spent the rest of the meal in silence, and she used most of her time to look out the main window to the city beyond. She was a slow eater, so she didn’t eat much. By the time she was done, her plate was still half full.
I’d eat it tomorrow for lunch. “Has Liam stopped by for any more visits?”
She stilled at the question, her mouth slowly chewing her food until her throat swallowed it. “How did you know that was his name?”
I kept a stoic expression and told her the truth. “You said it last time I was there.” That was true; she’d said his name a couple times, so I was off the hook.
She believed me. “No. Haven’t heard from him.”
“That must be nice.”
“Yes…and no. I was pretty harsh with him, and I feel guilty about that.” She set down her fork and pushed her food away. “But since he wasn’t backing off, I had to hurt him to help him, you know? I don’t want him to waste his time when there’s no hope. It’s just torture for his heart.”
I could tell how much she still cared about him. Another woman wouldn’t be so sympathetic. After all, he’d cheated and she didn’t. “He doesn’t deserve you. Not then and not now.”
“In his defense, he was a good husband before all that happened. He was always good to me. Kind, affectionate, thoughtful… I don’t think his entire reputation should be shattered by one mistake.”
She really was kind.
“But it’s too hard for me to forgive him. It’s more than just the cheating…how it happened.”
I didn’t ask for details, but I had to admit I was curious. I drank my wine then leaned back in my chair.
She answered on her own, opened up to me for the first time. “We were trying to start a family…and I got pregnant. But…I lost the baby.” She looked out the window, reliving the painful moment. “It was hard for both of us, and he didn’t handle it the right way. He got drunk at a bar…and met someone.”
I tried to control my anger, but that was pretty damn hard. “Fucking asshole.”
Her eyes shifted back to me.
“Who the fuck does that?” After Sofia was raped and stopped sleeping with Hades, he didn’t go out and find someone else in the meantime. There were offers, but he rejected every single one. That’s what a real husband did—a real man. “Is that supposed to be an excuse? How could he possibly justify that behavior? He should have stayed home—with you.” Good thing she didn’t take his sorry ass back. The guy was worthless.
Her eyes dropped to her wine, and she took a drink. “My feelings afterward were complicated. Obviously, I was angry at him because of what he did, but I also know it never would have happened if we hadn’t had a miscarriage.”
“So?” My eyebrows shot up. “It doesn’t matter what happened. Tragedy is normal. Shit happens. What if you were in an accident and couldn’t walk again? Would he just get his fix every night on the town? It’s easy to love someone when things are good, but loving a woman when things are bad is what defines a man. He failed. He fucking failed.” I didn’t know Annabella very well, but my passion told me I cared about her. That affection happened quickly, and it wasn’t just based on good sex. “He should have been home with you every night, getting through it as husband and wife.”
Her fingers rested on the rim of the glass as she regarded me. “You sure you’ve never been married
?”
“No.” I’d watched a womanizer love one woman exclusively, sacrifice everything just to see her smile. I knew what love was—because I’d seen it with my own eyes. Despite my bad blood toward Hades, I respected him for the way he treated Sofia. “But I know how a man should treat a woman.”
I sat at my desk with a steaming cup of coffee. It was almost noon, but I’d never really woken up. I was up late last night…with Annabella. We finished dinner then got to dessert…but it took us a long time to finish. Insulting her ex-husband seemed to make her want me more, which was fun.
Hades stepped into my office, eyebrows furrowed and his jawline hard.
I lifted my chin and met his look. “Do you fuck Sofia with that expression? Not a good look…”
His stare hardened in threat.
“Just trying to help.” I drank from my mug and set it down. “What do you want?”
“Did you get De Luca back?”
I hadn’t even bothered to try. After Annabella told me what he did, I didn’t want his money. “No.”
His eyebrow rose. “Because he refused? Or because you didn’t try?”
He knew me so well. “We have plenty of other clients. We don’t need him.”
“Don’t need him?” His voice came out cold. “We don’t need an extra billion dollars?”
“We’re both rich motherfuckers. We’ll be fine.”
He slammed his fist onto my desk. “He was my client, asshole. I want him back.”
“Then get him back,” I snapped. “You have two legs and vocal cords.”
He closed his eyes for a second, seething. “I swear to fucking god…”
“The guy is a dick. Why would we want to help him anyway?”
“All of our clients are dicks, Damien. We’re dicks. We’re thieves, murderers, liars. Are you kidding me right now?”
I got out of my chair. “What if I replace him with a better client? Is that fair?”
“I don’t want another client. I want him.”
“You got a crush on him or something?” He was a good-looking guy with a strong physique. I could understand how he’d landed Annabella in the first place.
His hand tightened into a fist. “Get him back, or I’ll tell him, Damien. This is your final warning.”
He would never throw me to the wolves when we were close, but I knew he was telling the truth now. “Fine.”
His nostrils flared before he turned around and walked out.
The moment I sat down, Sofia texted me again. That’s how it’s going to be? You’re just going to ignore me?
10
Annabella
In the beginning, Damien was just a pretty face, a nice body.
But now, he was more.
Hearing him talk about commitment like that, with so much passion and respect, made me see him with new eyes. He was a man who understood loyalty, who talked about men like he knew exactly how to be one.
It was hot.
Liam was the definition of testosterone. He was powerful, muscular, rich, and knew how to fuck a woman. But all that went out the window when he turned disloyal. That was the piece he was missing, that he’d never really had. He said it only happened one time, but now I wondered if there had been other instances he never told me about. His betrayal made me wonder if any man could be trustworthy, monogamous.
But now I believed they could.
Maybe Liam was just a mistake. Maybe I got lost in everything else he offered and missed all the signs. My infatuation misled me, made me turn a blind eye to his obvious flaws.
Damien seemed different, even though I didn’t know him that well.
We never had serious conversations because we constantly danced around our mutual need for space. But maybe it was time for that to change. I hadn’t slept with anyone else since I’d met him a month ago, and I wondered if he had either. If I asked him, he would probably tell me.
I texted him. I’d like to make an appointment, please.
He responded right away. Sorry?
A dick appointment. Is your dick available tonight?
The three dots never popped up, and a moment later, he called. His tone was playful when he spoke. “He’s available whenever you want, Annabella.”
“Ooh…it’s like a warehouse club membership.”
Now he actually laughed, deep and sexy. “Without the annual fee.”
“Even better. So?”
“I actually do have plans tonight. But I’m yours the rest of the night.”
I wanted to know what his plans were, but I refused to ask. “What time?”
“Probably ten. I can come to your place on my way home.”
“You wouldn’t rather go to your house?” My apartment was little, and let’s be real, it was a dump. He practically lived in a mansion.
“Why would I?”
“Well…my place kinda sucks.”
“It has a bed, doesn’t it?”
I liked that he didn’t care, that he wasn’t pretentious and judgmental. Liam didn’t refrain from calling my place a shithole. “Where are you going this evening?” I was tired of all this incognito bullshit. If we were going to continue seeing each other, I didn’t want to be mysterious all the time.
He answered right away, like he had nothing to hide. “The ballet.”
“Really? You don’t seem like you’d be a fan.” The second I said that, I realized he might have a date. Perhaps he was taking a woman there. It was odd that he made plans with me immediately afterward, and it was even odder that he might intend to sleep with both of us.
“I’m not,” he said with a laugh. “I’m just going to watch my sister.”
“She’s a dancer?”
“Yes.”
“Aww…that’s so cute.”
“I’m not cute. It’s an obligation.”
“Sure.”
“You wanna get laid or not?”
“Now I wanna get laid even more.”
11
Damien
My father opened his program and squinted his eyes. When he couldn’t read a single word, he fished his glasses out of his jacket pocket. “They make the writing on these things so damn small…” The glasses were placed on his nose, and he could decipher the page. “Catalina is in nearly the entire production.”
My sister was quite talented, not that I would ever tell her that. “That means this will suck.”
“Damien.” He continued to scold me like a child because he seemed to lose track of reality sometimes. I was in my thirties, but sometimes he thought I was still a dumb teenager, sneaking girls into the house.
“I’m teasing, Father.”
He shut the program and gripped it in both hands, as if he intended to put it on the fridge when he got home. My mother had been gone ten years, and he’d been alone ever since. I offered to let him live with me, but he refused. Catalina offered the same thing. He was just too proud.
But age claimed his body more with every year, and since he was older when they had me, he was now in his midseventies. He couldn’t live alone much longer, and I knew he would prefer to live in a home than burden me with his presence.
But Annabella was right. My place was awfully big for one person.
“What’s new with you, son?” He turned his gaze on me, crinkles around his eyes and the loose skin on his face. He’d aged pretty well, but for the last few years, his appearance had taken a steep dive.
“I’ve been working a lot.” He knew I owned the bank, but he had no idea about my side hustle.
“You should be working toward finding a wife. The bank won’t always be there for you—but a good woman will.”
I let my father say whatever he wanted because, you know, he was my dad. “True.”
“And you need children. You’re getting old, Damien.”
“You’re one to talk,” I teased.
He raised his finger at me. “But I have you and your darling sister. When your mother was gone, I still had you. I’d have no reason t
o live otherwise.”
Conversations always turned to discussions about mortality. Death seemed to be the number one thing on his mind. “I’ll work on that.”
“You better.” He lowered his hand.
I would work on it tonight, actually.
The lights dimmed and the curtains opened. The sound of piano filled the theater, and the first dancer to hit the stage was my sister. Lean and toned, she moved across the stage on her tiptoes, her arms raised in the air with perfect posture. When she stilled, there was a pause in the music, but once it returned, she started to spin, to jump, to command the hearts of every person in that audience.
Including mine.
After the show, I gave my father my arm and helped him up the stairs and to the back of the stage. Dancers were still in their leotards and were pulling the clips from their hair. Spouses and lovers handed over arrangements of roses and issued kisses of congratulations.
We moved to the rear, where my sister stood at her dressing table. Her hair was already pulled free from its constraints, so it flowed freely down her chest. Her green eyes were identical to mine, a gift from our mother.
Before we reached her station, I noticed there was already a bunch of roses on the surface.
When she saw our father, her eyes lit up in joy. “Daddy!” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him hard. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Despite his weakness, he managed to pull strength from nowhere and hug her hard. He held her like he didn’t want to let her go, like she was a little girl reading in her bedroom. “You were wonderful, sweetheart.” He pulled away and watched her with affectionate eyes. “The best dancer on that stage.”
She smiled but rolled her eyes. “Of course you think that.”
“And I mean it.” He took her hand and kissed the top.
Emotion entered her gaze.
Father took the flowers he’d picked out from my hand and gave them to her. “For you.”