Angelo: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

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Angelo: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 14

by Bella Love-Wins


  She wasn’t expecting me to sink every inch inside her at full force. I put my hand against her mouth just in time to muffle what would have been a loud whimper.

  I rammed into her, relishing the muffled noises she made against my palm. She opened her mouth and grazed her teeth against my hand, then bit down slowly onto one of my fingers.

  A swell of pleasure surged through me and Paige arched her back and made that moan that told me she was close.

  I went faster into her and she shook, her pleasure exploding and wrapping all around me. Her walls tightened on my cock and my own dam burst.

  Panting hard, I climbed off of her and flipped her around. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips cherry red. I smoothed my palms over her torso and thighs, leaving a delicate kiss here and there.

  “Do you think anyone heard?” she panted.

  “Hopefully,” I seriously said.

  Her eyes went wide. “Angelo!”

  I chuckled and reached up to twirl a strand of her hair around my finger. “No, they didn’t hear. This house is gigantic and the walls are thick.”

  “Oh,” she shyly smiled. “Good.” Her eyes shone and she batted her lashes. “Why are you still looking at me?”

  “I’m looking,” I slowly said, “Because I’m the luckiest man in…”

  “Don’t say the world,” she grinned. “That’s so cheesy.”

  I chuckled. “How about both Chicago and New York?”

  “I’ll take that.”

  But it was the world.

  Right then, I knew for sure what my big plan needed to be.

  Chapter Twenty-Four - Paige

  Clattering, chattering, and all other sorts of noise filled the dining room. I sunk back into my seat and relaxed as the sounds wrapped around me.

  So far, being around such a big family proved to be extremely comforting. The noise level, contrary to being a disruption, became a protective shield against the world.

  Or rather, the thoughts in my own head.

  With Franco and Tre shouting at each other from opposite ends of the table, Mrs. Salvatore and Dominic discussing Easter plans at a thousand miles per minute, Pops and Angelo talking shop, and Lia and Paige gushing about New York’s last fashion week, it became pretty hard for my own neurotic worries to find space in my brain.

  I sipped some orange juice and smiled to myself. From down the table Angelo caught my eye and sent me a wink.

  Mrs. Salvatore clapped her hands together. “Who’s coming to pick out the tree after breakfast?”

  “Huh?” I couldn’t help but mutter.

  “It’s a Salvatore tradition,” Franko explained, adding extra maple syrup to his already soaking pancakes. “No tree till two days before Christmas.”

  Pops waved his hand. “That American tradition of getting it on Thanksgiving is ridiculous. Families used to put trees up on Christmas Eve. They decorated them together, made a ceremony out of it.”

  “People still decorate them together, Pops,” Lia pointed out.

  “But they get them too early,” he said.

  Sophia opened her mouth to add something, but her words turned from syllables into a long, sustained buzz. I was hundreds of miles away, trapped in a place from years ago.

  My heart clenched. Nausea filled me.

  I’m going to vomit. Right here at the table.

  I stood quickly and ran for the doorway.

  “Paige?” Angelo said from somewhere far away.

  I sped down the hall and into the closest bathroom, slamming the door behind me. Going to the sink, I grabbed both sides of it and held on for dear life.

  The walls spun and tilted. I kept my gaze down, focused on the sink’s drain. It became my life saver, the only thing anchoring me in reality.

  My breath came short and labored. I felt in my jeans pocket for my inhaler and took a hit.

  Someone knocked on the bathroom door. “Paige?” Angelo asked. “Are you all right?”

  I took another deep breath and straightened up. The pale girl in the mirror looked back at me, both of us uncertain as to what to do.

  I’d broken down enough in front of Angelo. He didn’t need to see me broken up all the time. I liked Sunny Paige better. Loving Paige was great. Joking Paige was a good one too.

  “Paige?” he asked again.

  “I’m fine,” I said in a cracked voice.

  “I’m coming in.”

  I straightened up, about to protest, but the door was already opening.

  “What happened?” Angelo asked, coming in behind me and closing the door.

  I watched him in the mirror. At least I could now look at something other than the sink. That was good.

  “It just… I had a memory come back.”

  He tried to hide his surprise, but his eyebrows flew up a little bit. “Of what?”

  I sighed. “Of the first Christmas after my parents died… The first year that Sophia and I lived with our aunt.”

  Angelo put a hand on my shoulder. “And?”

  “And it sucked,” I bitterly said.

  “Was this one you repressed?”

  I nodded. “I think so.”

  “Hey,” he softly said.

  I turned to face him. “She didn’t know how to deal with us. I had all my stuff going on, was probably a wreck. Sophia was…what some people would call a problem. She stayed out late, came home drunk… got into any kind of trouble I think a teenage girl can. Other than getting pregnant. She escaped that one.” I smiled slightly to lighten the mood, but Angelo didn’t buy it.

  “What was Christmas like?”

  “It wasn’t,” I simply said. “We didn’t celebrate it. We didn’t even get a tree.”

  “That’s awful.”

  I shook my head and looked at the floor. “Our aunt had her own fair share of issues. She was my mom’s sister. She didn’t even know about our parents’ involvement in the mafia until after they died. She just… I guess she knew how to deal about as much as I did.”

  I looked back up just in time to see his eyes flash in anger. “Did she take out the pain of their deaths on you?”

  I bit my lip. “No… but she shut down. Nothing cheerful happened in that apartment. Soph and I left the day we turned eighteen. After that, our aunt gradually stopped talking to us. It wasn’t her fault. She was just depressed. We reminded her of her sister. You could see it in her eyes, the way she seemed to relive getting the news.”

  “You’re saying that because she couldn’t deal with losing her sister, she turned her back on her nieces?”

  I shrugged. “Not everyone can handle tragedy the same way. Look at me. I shut it out, along with so many of my earlier memories. I don’t even know if that’s something I chose to do, or if my subconscious did it to keep me from fracturing even more.”

  Angelo hugged me tight. I relaxed into his arms.

  “She’s a fool,” he whispered. “And if you don’t want to go pick out a tree we don’t have to. You and I can stay here.”

  “No, it’s fine.” I disengaged from his embrace and went for the door knob.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” I stressed, my palm frozen on the knob. “I can handle it.”

  Actually, I didn’t know that I could for sure.

  But I needed to at least try.

  The group went, piling into three cars and taking them to a Christmas tree stand nearby. The only trees left were small, thin ones and large, towering ones. Taking the biggest one available seemed to go without discussion. Perhaps it was a Salvatore thing.

  The monolithic tree was too big to go on top of any one car, so Pops called a number to have it delivered and we went back home to wait for it to arrive.

  I managed to breath evenly, and did not freak out.

  At the house, we set about pulling boxes of ornaments and lights into the large living room. With the vaulted ceiling, the giant tree would be right at home.

  “These are pretty,” I said, pulling out a string of white orb
s.

  “They’re from Italy,” Mrs. Salvatore proudly said.

  The boxes seemed to go on and on, full of more decorations than any one tree, no matter how big, could possibly need. We pulled each piece out, though, and discussed the merits and disadvantages of them all. Mariel brought in some hot cider and Dominic lit a fire. The scene felt like something out of a movie.

  “Oh,” Mrs. Salvatore sighed. “I forgot the box with the children’s ornaments.”

  “What’s that?” Sophia asked. She’d wrapped some garland around herself, the shiny red and green stuff mimicking scarves. She looked like Liza Minelli about to ride a float in a Christmas parade.

  “It’s full of ornaments the kids all made when they were little. It’s still in the back room.”

  “I’ll get it,” I offered, standing up. My legs, sore and cramped from sitting on the floor for so long, were eager to move.

  I went down the hallway, past the kitchen and the foyer, and into far part of the bottom floor. The very last room at the hall functioned as a storage unit. Though small, the boxes had been organized pretty well and I found the one marked ‘kids’ ornaments’ right away.

  Lifting it, I hauled it back down the hall, going a bit slower thanks to the new weight.

  Right before getting to the end of the hall, voices stopped me. They were coming from the foyer, and judging by the furious way words were whispered, the conversation being held was a heavy one.

  I pressed my back against the wall, not quite sure what to do. I couldn’t very well walk across the foyer, but I also didn’t want to be caught looking like I was eavesdropping.

  “I just don’t trust her,” came a harsh whisper. It unmistakably belonged to Lia.

  “That’s your problem,” Dominic countered.

  “Don’t turn this on me just because I’m looking out for Angelo.”

  My chest constricted. They were talking about me.

  Lia went on. “Just look at her situation.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Money.”

  Dominic scoffed. “She has plenty of it. Do you not remember what Moretti left her?”

  “Yeah, but before that she had none. Thing about how desperate that makes a person, how greedy.”

  Heat filled my cheeks. Lia was insulting me on multiple levels, and she barely knew me.

  “You’re being paranoid.” Heavy footsteps sounded as Dominic walked away.

  I stayed where I was, almost not caring if Lia came down the hall and found me. Her attitude was beyond necessary. It was callous. I loved Angelo. The only thing I wanted from him was some of the love back.

  Lia’s own footsteps sounded, gradually fading.

  Still I stayed in the hall, my hands clutching the box.

  There were a lot of things that could happen. I could confront her, demand to know why she had such a bias against me. I could try to let it go and just enjoy Christmas.

  Neither one of those seemed doable. Not with the pain coursing through me.

  I’d tried to be nice to her. I loved Angelo. Why couldn’t Lia see that?

  I blinked hard, pushing the tears back, and headed for the living room.

  My mood will not be ruined. My mood will not be ruined.

  Except it already had been.

  Chapter Twenty-Five - Angelo

  “You’re going to have to make a sports-only section and put it in the back,” I told Franko and Tre.

  Franko’s face wrinkled. “Aw man, stop being a downer.”

  “I’m not. Ask Mom. You think she’s going to want your football and two dozen Louisiana State ornaments next to her Nativity one?”

  Franko grumbled something and turned away. In the far corner, the men who brought the tree finished putting it up. Everyone stopped what they were doing to admire the sight.

  “Wow,” Dominic said, coming into the room. “Admirable.”

  Lia followed close behind, her arms folded and her jaw set.

  “Did you guys see Paige?” I asked, realizing it had been a while since she went to retrieve the last box of ornaments.

  Dominic shook his head and went to sit on the couch.

  Leaving the swaths of decorations on the floor behind, I left the room.

  Paige was halfway down the hallway, the cardboard box pressed against her stomach.

  “Hi.” She smiled at me over the box flaps, but the grin didn’t reach her eyes… Eyes that were puffy and red.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she quickly said.

  I took the box from her. “Don’t do that.”

  She sighed and looked past me at the living room. “I just heard Lia and Dominic talking about me. Lia thinks that I...” Her eyes shifted to the side. “That I’m into you for your money.”

  I couldn’t contain the scoff. “No. She wouldn’t say something like that.”

  She dismally looked back at me. “I heard it myself.”

  I wasn’t too surprised. It was Lia, after all. Her delicate exterior was the perfect contrast for her inner toughness. She wasn’t callous, but she could be careful and critical, as well as overly protective. Her strong personality was both her strength and, sometimes, her fault.

  “I’m sorry she said that.”

  Paige’s shoulders sagged. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I know you’re not. That’s all that matters.”

  Noise and laughter erupted from the living room. I glanced over my shoulder. “She’s my sister, I said, lowering my voice. “Sometimes she can be hard on people. It’s because she’s so protective. I’ll have a talk with her.”

  More like rail into her. Paige was my girlfriend. The first woman I ever went so far as to bring home. Not even Lia could get away with giving Paige any disrespect.

  “No,” Paige pleaded. “Please don’t. I don’t want to be the subject of any drama.”

  I put the box down and placed my hand on her shoulder. “This is already dramatic. If we ignore it, things might get worse. She has to accept you, Paige. You’re a part of our family now.”

  A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. “All right, but go easy on her.”

  “Why? Doesn’t sound like she’s returning the favor with you.”

  “Come on. Maybe she’s just being a protective sis. I know all about how far that can go.”

  “I will.”

  “And don’t make a scene.”

  “I won’t make a scene,” I promised. “Come on. Let’s get those ornaments in there. Just wait till you see how great the tree looks.”

  ***

  The tree trimming passed flawlessly. I kept an eye on Lia from the corner of my eye. Once or twice she glanced Paige’s way, the expression on her face unreadable, but mostly she stayed on the couch, untangling lights or joking with Franko.

  With the tree finally finished, everyone dispersed to get ready for a late lunch.

  “Lia,” I said in a low voice as she rose from the couch.

  She froze and eyed me, everyone else filtering out of the room. Paige glanced over her shoulder at me, her plea to keep things chill practically audible.

  “What’s up?” Lia asked.

  I stepped closer to her and waited till we were alone in the room. “I get the feeling you don’t like Paige very much.”

  She scoffed out a short burst of laughter. “What gives you that idea?” She folded her arms and stared me down.

  “Come on, drop the facade. I know you better than that.”

  She sighed. “She’s using you, Angelo. It’s plain as day.”

  Anger flashed through me but I kept it contained. “You barely know her.”

  “I don’t need to. I know you, and I know her circumstances. She wants at your money.”

  “She has her own money.”

  Lia rolled her eyes. “This is the exact same conversation I had with Dom. Don’t you guys get it? Gold diggers are greedy. They’re not going to stop at ten million. After that they want twenty, and after
that...”

  “I get the picture,” I hissed.

  Her eyes narrowed. “She’ll break your heart.”

  “If she does it won’t be due to money. I love Paige and she loves me. That’s just something you’re going to have to deal with.”

  Lia’s upper lip curled. “Wow. It sure sounds like you’re whipped.”

  “Watch your mouth, and quit it with the resting bitch face, little sister,” I snarled.

  “Call me bitch one more time, you little shit,” Lia said calmly, all the threatening made with her eyes.

  I held her gaze. Backing down from Lia was the worst thing anyone could do. “Be nice and I won’t have to,” I grunted out.

  “I’m not being mean to her.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  Lia just gazed back at me.

  “You’re wrong about her. But honestly, I don’t give a crap what you think of her. Just show her some respect.”

  Lia jutted out her chin, ready for more arguing, but I was done. I stomped past her and out of the room.

  I’d been rougher than I meant to be. I knew that. I couldn’t take anyone treating Paige unfairly. The fact that the offender was my own sister made the hurt sting twice as much.

  I had to make things right between all of us.

  I had no idea how I’d make it happen.

  Chapter Twenty-Six - Paige

  Lia practically stomped into the dining room. I quickly averted my eyes and turned to look at Mrs. Salvatore, who was telling Soph something about the neighbors down the street.

  “...and it’s the same every year,” she said. “Those wreaths stay up until July.”

  I held my breath as Lia selected one of the last few free seats. When she settled down at the one furthest away from me I finally let out an exhale. Her mood was easily readable. She was pissed about something.

  Presumably, her conversation with Angelo had not gone very well.

  When Angelo entered the room, he wore an equally strained expression. He settled in the seat across from me and shot me a tense smile. I tried to smile back, but the bag of rocks in my stomach made it hard. Just when I thought things were looking up, just when I thought I might be able to deal with Christmas like a normal human being, this had to happen.

 

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