by Bethany-Kris
He wasn’t even lying.
August was an amazing writer.
“Tell me about it.”
The silence stretched on between Bene and his twin, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He broke the silence first, if only because he just needed to talk to someone about Vanna, and maybe then he could go upstairs to his penthouse alone, instead of rushing back across the city to spend the rest of his night with that woman.
God.
He felt fucking crazy.
“I met someone,” he said.
Beni sucked in a lungful of air on the other end of the call. “Did you?”
“Yeah, man, she’s ... perfect. She’s great.”
“Huh.”
Bene chuckled. “That all you got to say?”
“Well, no.”
“What else, then?”
“I mean, does she have a name, or ...?”
“Vanna.”
“Has she met Ma or—”
“Not yet.”
“But? Because I can hear that in there.”
“But I think she’ll love her, you know?”
Beni whistled low. “Well, damn. It’s like that, huh?”
“It’s not like anything right now. It just ... is.”
It sounded lame.
It was still the truth.
Or, that’s what Bene would keep telling himself.
For now.
“Is that why you called?”
“Pardon?” he asked.
“To tell me about her,” Beni clarified.
“Uh, yeah. Just needed to talk to someone.”
“All right,” his brother murmured, “so tell me about her. I am all ears.”
He did.
He told Beni everything.
12.
“Of course, I am getting ready right now for dinner,” Vanna said.
She carefully balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear as she slid a diamond stud into the lobe. It complimented the thick rope of clear diamonds that hugged her mid-throat like a choker. The only two pieces of jewelry that she wore to compliment her floor-length black gown made up of silk and chiffon with an off the shoulder neckline, and a deep plunge in both the front and back. Not to mention, the slit up her thigh that showed off her sky-high, pointed-toe stilettos and the gleaming skin of her legs with every step she took.
“Just finishing up, and I will be on my way,” she added.
On the other end of her call, Mario continued muttering on about the fact she wouldn’t let him send a car to pick her up, and how that would look on him. His voice droning on in her ear was beginning to get tiring, and she just wanted to get him off the phone as soon as possible. Especially considering her other guest would be there soon.
“The engagement has been announced already,” he continued bitching as though he was going to get a real response from her. “You don’t think someone might assume things based on the fact you don’t have a chaperone, or—”
“Never had one before now.”
“Yes, but because I talked to my father.”
“And you can say that now.”
“Doesn’t mean it looks good, okay?”
Right. Because it was all about fucking appearances in their life. It seemed to now be the most important thing on Mario’s mind, but especially where she was concerned, and this ridiculous engagement. She wished she cared to listen to him, but vanity was one of her flaws, and she would willingly admit it. So, instead of paying attention to his nonsense, she found more pleasure in admiring her reflection in the mirror.
Besides, regardless of what she told him, she wouldn’t be going to the dinner with his mother and father in the city at one of their favorite restaurants because she had better things to do. And yes, it was absolutely going to get her in a world of shit, but she couldn’t find a single ounce of her that gave a damn at this point.
Her life had been decided.
Her future, written in stone.
Vanna didn’t get a say.
She wasn’t afraid of what they might do next. At worst, he would kill her for the things she was doing behind his back. At best, they would continue down the same path they were already on with her being forced into a marriage with him that she didn’t want. At this fucking point, Vanna had nothing left to lose. She didn’t even know how to protect herself, hell.
“Listen,” Vanna said when a familiar ding sounded through the apartment, letting her know someone was coming up the private elevator to her hallway for the penthouse, “I need to finish up here, and then I’ll be in a car on my way to you, okay?”
“Don’t make me wait, Vanna. You know how much I hate that.”
Mario’s warning went right over her head.
Oh, well.
“You won’t,” she lied smoothly. “And besides, I am always worth the wait.”
He cleared his throat on the other end. “Sometimes, yes.”
All the time, you fucking asshole.
Not that it would matter to him if she said that out loud, or not. He didn’t give a shit about pleasing her, making her happy, or giving her the things she wanted to make what would eventually be their life better for her. To him, her only purpose now was for her to look good on his arm, act appropriately, and give him whatever he wanted.
Vanna had no intention of doing any of those things, but she had yet to figure a way out of this goddamn situation she found herself in. So, for now, she had to do what she had to do. And tonight, she was doing what she wanted.
The ding sounded again. Someone was in the hallway, coming down to her penthouse. Now, she really needed to get Mario off the goddamn phone. There was no way in hell he would appreciate hearing a man on the other end of the line when she went to answer her door. That would really mess with her plans, too.
“Okay, you’re keeping me from finishing up here,” she said.
Mario sighed harshly. “Fine, but you’re using drivers after this, Vanna. I can’t have the future wife of the next Camorra boss going around unattended. That will never be acceptable to the clan, and you know it.”
Of course.
“Sure, whatever. Revisit it later, okay?”
“You know we will.”
If it let him sleep at night ...
Vanna waited just long enough for Mario to say goodbye before she hung up the phone on him without saying the same in kind. She didn’t have the time, or give a damn for pleasantries with him, and she was just about done pretending like she did.
Tossing the phone in her clutch, Vanna swung away from her reflection in the mirror to head out of the bedroom. Despite what she told Mario, she was finished getting ready for her evening, it simply wouldn’t be to go out with him. Her smile grew wider as she headed through the penthouse, the ding of the doorbell echoing throughout the space when she came closer to the door. Maybe she should have prepared to see the man who would be standing behind the door when she swung it open, but she was too excited to see him to worry about anything else.
Bene grinned in the hallway, his hands pressing to either side of the doorjamb when she opened up the penthouse for him. And goddamn. He looked like sin melted into a tailored three-piece suit with a silver vest and tie with a matching silk square tucked into his breast pocket. One of his leather loafers tapped against the floor, while his fingers drummed to the wood. A watch encrusted with diamonds on the face glinted under the hallway lights.
He screamed wealth.
Good looks.
Total fucking heartache.
Vanna knew it now.
And how did she know that?
Because instead of considering the phone in her clutch, and the fact that tonight was supposed to be yet another opportunity for her to use in order to get information on the Guzzi family to deliver to the detective she worked with ... she was more concerned with seeing him. Spending time with him. Everything about him.
And nothing about the vendetta.
Bene whistled low, drawing Vanna from her thoughts as his dark
gaze looked her up and down. He didn’t move an inch, but the slow perusal of his gaze lingering on her form, the way the fabric clung to the shape of her breasts, giving a peek at her cleavage, and the slit in her thigh, almost showing off the lace thong she wore underneath ... well, it had her shivering on the spot in those sky-high heels.
It never failed to amaze her how this man could make her feel like the only woman in the world with nothing more than a glance thrown her way. Never mind the things he dared to let slip past his lips that were more than enough to have her wet between her thighs, and ready for yet another round in bed with him.
She was sure he knew it, too.
“Got something to say?” she asked.
Bene’s tongue peeked out to wet his bottom lip. “Well ...”
“Hmm?”
His stare darted up to meet hers. “I am a lucky fuck to have you on my arm tonight, huh?”
See.
How hard was that?
For a man to say he was the one honored to have her at his side? To put her first before himself? To make an effort?
Bene did all of those things.
And more.
Her guilt kicked up a notch, reminding her all over again that she had no business being anywhere near this man anymore. Not after the things she did, and planned for him and the rest of his family. Except she was selfish, so she wouldn’t be turning him away.
Not tonight.
And not on another.
“Can’t wait to show you off,” Bene said, finally dropping his hands and stepping forward. “And they’re going to love you.”
“Who?”
“My family.”
“Oh.”
Vanna hadn’t even considered that was who he meant, even if tonight would mean she was going to be front row and center for his family at their party. Before she could even take a breath, he was on her. She didn’t worry about her makeup, or the stark red lipstick she’d put on earlier because all of that could be fixed.
Instead, she was just happy to have his lips find hers. The familiarity in their kiss was something she craved, now. Like him, because God knew she needed him more than she ever wanted to ... but she couldn’t find it in her to be sad about that, either.
With his hands curving along her jaw, the warmth of his palms seeping into her skin as he kissed her with a hunger that promised good things were coming later, Vanna forgot about everything else. Her life. The world. Everything she was supposed to do, and the things she thought she wanted.
Bene came into play.
Everything changed.
Vanna hadn’t planned for this.
Never mind ... fixing it.
“God, yeah,” he said, pulling away as his thumb roved over what she was sure were her smudged lips, now, “they’re gonna adore you.”
“You think?” she asked softly.
Bene smirked, lax and lazy. “I know.”
She had a strange feeling, then.
One she hadn’t expected.
Vanna wanted to meet them, too.
Not Gian, the man who apparently ruined her family’s life and legacy. But Gian, the father who raised the man in front of her. She wasn’t interested in meeting Cara, the woman who took her dead aunt’s place, and was handed the keys to a kingdom that should have been theirs, but rather ... Cara, the mother who Bene talked about with love, and total adoration.
His brothers.
Their people.
She wanted to know them.
And not the people she thought she knew—not the stories she had been told, but theirs. The things she didn’t know. All of that, she wanted to know them.
That was a problem.
Did it need to be fixed, though?
That was the better question.
If he noticed her strange change in mood, Bene didn’t say. “And hey, we’ve got a little bit of time before we need to head out ... and you need to fix your lipstick now, so.”
Vanna grinned, hearing the suggestive tone in his voice clearly. She started taking steps backward, and he was quick to follow, slamming the door behind him as he moved after her. “Oh, really?”
“Mmhmm.”
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress, pulling up the skirt just enough for the slit to give him a peek of that thong she wore underneath. His gaze flicked downward, his lips curling up at the edges in a satisfied grin before his attention was on her face once more when she asked, “And what do you think we should do with that time, Bene?”
“Find a place to let me bend you over, say my name like that again, and you’re going to find out.”
Yes.
Absolutely, yes.
• • •
They were late to the dinner party because the one round where Bene had Vanna bent over the couch just wasn’t enough, and somehow, they found themselves naked in her walk-in closet when she attempted to fix her makeup in front of her vanity.
Shocker.
No one said a thing about the fact they were late, though, and by the time they arrived at the Guzzi mansion, dinner had started to be served. She felt all eyes on them as Bene pulled her closer to his side when they came into view of the dining room entry. His fingers drifted through her loose waves, pushing the hair out of her eyes before he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. His lips were just drifting away from her skin, their gazes meeting, as they walked into the room still tightly together, and seemingly forgetting about the room around them.
Still, she felt those eyes.
The stares.
And how it all went quiet.
Bene grinned her way, and Vanna felt an unfamiliar sensation kicking up in her stomach. Butterflies. How long had it been since something like her nerves took over, and reminded her that she was just as human as everyone else?
Too long, apparently.
She wasn’t used to this.
She did her best to focus on him as they rounded the large table filled with numerous faces, she didn’t recognize for the life of her. Not that any of the people staring back at them as she smiled and nodded at the ones they passed looked as though they recognized her, either, or as if they didn’t think she was meant to be there.
They all smiled.
They all greeted them with kindness.
It settled her nerves.
And kicked up her guilt.
Fantastic.
“A bit late, Bene?”
He had just found them a spot to sit at the table that literally filled the whole room and looked as though it was easily sitting thirty people. Was it a custom piece, or had they bought it that way? He pulled out the chair for Vanna to sit as they turned to the man at the far-left end of the table, sitting in a large captain’s chair.
A recognizable face to her.
Gian.
Bene’s father.
Vanna hadn’t known what to expect the first time she came face to face with the man—or for now, just a few seats down at a table from him—but the welcoming smile he wore was not it. Maybe she thought he would be the same as every other man within the life ... cold, almost, detached in his stare, but kind because appearances were everything.
Instead, he watched her with a hint of curiosity, but also a warmth that said he was glad to see her there, but especially with his son.
God.
Would he feel the same if he knew the truth?
Or would she finally see the coldness she’d expected?
“We can do proper introductions after the dinner,” Gian said to Bene, and giving a nod to Vanna before adding, “but you can apologize to your mother for being late, hmm?”
“Oui, Papa,” Bene quickly replied.
The first time she ever heard him use French. Even if it was only one word. It was shocking.
He dropped a kiss to the top of her head before helping her push in her chair, and then he left her to sit alone. He headed down to the other end of the very long table to greet the woman sitting in a chair that matched Gian’s opposite to hers. She looke
d every inch a queen sitting in her throne with her red hair let down in soft waves, and the buttery, cream-colored dress hugging her feminine curves as she smiled up at her son.
Cara.
Even as Bene’s mother reached for him to take his kiss to her cheek, and whatever apology he gave for being late, her gaze still drifted down the table to Vanna. There was a warmth in her gaze, too, but her stare didn’t linger as long when she went back to her son, hooking her finger as if to silently ask him to bend down again.
Bene did.
Cara murmured something that had him grinning. Then, he nodded, and that had his mother mouthing the words. “Ah, I see.”
It was clear the woman adored her son. It showed in every action—from the gentle pat of her hand against his cheek, to the smile on her face filled with pride. Even the glimmer in her eye, as if Bene was the only person in the room while his attention was on her, couldn’t be hidden. Not that it seemed like his mother wanted to hide it.
The love.
It was so painfully clear.
She looked Vanna’s way with a sly smile.
What was that all about?
Vanna didn’t have time to find out.
Bene made his way back down to her, and Gian addressed the table with a clap of his hands that had servers coming in through three different entrances. While the table was already full of food, and some even had plates filled in front of them ... the servers held pitchers of water, juice, and one held a tray of wine glasses.
“Time to eat,” Gian said.
Across the table, one of the men that Vanna recognized from the newspaper picture at the wedding smiled at her. Christopher, was it?
Another Guzzi twin.
“Dad might be good with waiting for introductions,” he said to Bene beside Vanna, “but I don’t care about politeness, so ...”
Bene laughed, waving a hand between his brother, and Vanna as a server came up to them with plates ready to sit in front of them. “Vanna, this is Chris, and his wife, Valeria.”
“Val is cool, though,” the pretty woman to Chris’s left replied, although her attention was more focused on the young girl sitting next to her that was trying not to spill sauce down her sweet dress. “Here, let me put a napkin on you, Maria.”