“But it did once?”
Shifting my face closer to hers, I touch my mouth to her own. I don’t kiss her deeply, knowing that once I start, I’ll want to fuck her out here on this balcony and with this person watching her—watching us—I can’t do that to her, I can’t expose my wife to that.
“I wanted to keep you, like a prize for my shelf. Perfect, and all mine. If I could have locked you up in my bedroom, hid you from the world, I would have, without hesitation.”
“I would have let you,” she whispers.
I shake my head, sliding my tongue along her bottom lip. “I know you would have, Pippa.”
Slipping my tongue inside of her mouth, I taste her. My wife, my sexy as fuck wife. Wrapping my other arm around her back, I pull her closer toward me, feeling her body curve and meld against my own.
Nibbling her bottom lip, I lift my head but only slightly and press my forehead against her own. “You were never meant to be locked in a room, set on a shelf and only played with when I had the time,” I breathe.
“I wasn’t?”
Lifting my face a little more, I look into her eyes and shake my head a couple of times, my lips curving up into a small smile.
“Not at all, Pippa. You were meant to shine, dolcezza, and not just for me. The people of this famiglia need to know exactly who you are, they deserve your brightness.”
She shakes her head or at least tries, but my grip is too tight. “Stop it,” she whispers as her eyes fill with tears.
“Nothing to stop, just telling you the truth.”
“I’m nothing. I was willing to sell myself, and in a way I did. I’m not a good person, never have been. I’m a survivor and nothing else.”
Pressing my lips together, I tilt my head to the side. “Bullshit, Pippa. I’ll prove it to you too. I’m going to prove to you that you, my dolcezza, are not a survivor. You’re a thriver and you are worthy of everything that comes to you, every fucking good thing that crosses in front of you.”
“Stop,” she whispers.
“Never.”
PIPPA
Something is up. Something is really suspicious. Arlo and Massimo walked away as soon as they possibly could. Massimo told me to stay in the office and that he would come to get me as soon as his business was concluded.
Business.
What could his business possibly be? Now? He’s been home less than twelve hours. It’s not as if he has anything pressing to take care of. At least I didn’t think that he did. This whole thing is making me anxious.
I reach for my purse, where I used to keep my pills and curse myself for getting rid of them. I’m regretting quitting them cold turkey.
Chewing on the corner of my lip, I busy myself filing papers away. That only lasts for about twenty minutes. I can’t handle it. My curiosity gets the best of me and I slowly open the office door and slip out into the hallway.
The casino is completely quiet and I know the employees won’t start arriving for at least two more hours, then the call girls an hour after that and finally the customers.
Tiptoeing, I feel like I’m part of one of those secret spy movies as I creep down the hallways toward the main floor of the casino.
I listen intently, hoping to hear voices in the distance that I can follow. Frowning, no matter how hard I strain, I hear nothing. What I should do is go back in the office and wait, like Massimo told me to do.
I don’t do that.
Instead, I continue to slink around, trying to hug the walls as I move around the building. I go to the kitchens, but they’re empty, then I head to the sex rooms, praying that they are empty as well. I let out an exhale of relief when I find every room empty.
My eyes move around and I focus on the party rooms. There are four banquet rooms that they use for private parties. Some include sex, others don’t. Like when Arlo’s father and his friends come to play poker, they play, they eat, they drink, then they leave.
Slowly, I make my way toward those rooms. I smile to myself, thinking back on the last time that I was in one of them. Luciana’s birthday party. We had fun, all of us together, everyone except Massimo was there in our small circle.
We played poker, drank, and danced. It’s probably one of the best memories I have. How sad is that? It wasn’t even my birthday, but it was a fun evening and I felt like part of the group—I finally felt like I belonged, in that one evening.
The sound of men’s voices causes me to freeze. I’m at the door to the second banquet room. Straining to hear, I place my ear against the door and listen. I hear Arlo and Massimo, unmistakably, then a third voice.
Unfortunately, I can’t hear what they’re actually saying, no matter how hard I try. I growl to myself, careful not to make a noise. I want to know. I need to know. Then Massimo’s voice booms and I hear him say my name, clearly.
Lifting my head, I take a step back, wondering if I’ve somehow been caught. Chewing on my bottom lip, I wait for a moment, then when the door doesn’t fly open, I return back to pressing my ear against the door.
“Erin is a problem. What are we going to do with her?”
“You don’t know that it’s her exactly, just that the messages came from her residence,” Arlo says.
“She’s a whore I’ve had, multiple times, one who made it clear she wasn’t finished. It’s been five years, who else could it be?” Massimo asks, his and Arlo’s voice clear to me.
I gasp. I know exactly who he’s talking about. Erin is a gorgeous blonde Irish call girl
