17. Natalia
“If you want to enjoy my sloppy seconds then go right ahead,” Alessandro says to his cousin, the one I was flirting with earlier. Obviously, they were talking about me. Valentino’s eyes widen as he notices me walking up behind Alessandro. Not going to lie, hearing him call me his sloppy seconds is disgusting, he’s reduced me to nothing more than a piece of meat that he can palm off to his friends.
Fuck him.
Normal Natalia would probably have grabbed one of the bottles from the bar and hit him over his head with it for that misogynistic remark, but instead, I ask him how to use the oven. I can see it on his face, I wasn’t meant to hear his words, but he also doesn’t look sorry for them. He silently gets up from the table and follows me back into the kitchen where I’d pulled out the fresh items from the fridge that his chef had created for tonight as per the “poker night” notes on the packages.
“Natalia, I—” Alessandro starts as soon as we enter the kitchen.
“How do I turn this fancy oven on so I can cook up what your chef left?” I interrupt whatever subject he was about to start as I try to keep my emotions in check. He frowns but doesn’t push any further. He walks over to the wall oven and explains the different settings before turning it on. “Thank you,” I tell him, unwrapping the food and placing it onto a tray. I crash and bang around the kitchen as my simmering anger starts to take control.
The next thing I know, Alessandro grabs my wrist and pulls me from the kitchen, then pushes me into the room beside it—it looks like his study from the wooden desk I catch a glimpse of—before he slams the door behind us.
“Natalia, I’m sorry for what you heard. I shouldn’t have said it.”
I shrug as I fold my arms in front of me, protecting myself against him as I stay silent.
Alessandro stares at me blankly for a couple of moments, looking confused, probably wondering why I’m not causing a scene.
“Why aren’t you yelling at me?” he asks, continuing to stare at me. “You looked like you wanted to pour a drink on me at the table.”
I did.
Don’t break, don’t show him that his words have any effect on you. This is what Contis do, find your weakness and exploit it. I wish I was an ice queen like Allegra, but the increased silence and tension in the room are becoming too much, and the slightest of cracks appear in my fa?ade as a tear slides down my cheek. I hate when I’m this angry it manifests into tears.
Before I have a chance to swipe it away, Alessandro does, his large hands cupping my face. “There she is,” he says with a grin, looking down at me, “the girl that I know.” His thumb slides across my cheek as it captures another rogue tear. “I don’t like it when you’re silent, princess,” he says softly. “I like it more when you fight back.” My brows pull together as I stare at him, trying to work out what he means. “I didn’t like my cousin flirting with you.”
He didn’t like someone else playing with his things, that’s all it was, not that he didn’t like him playing with me. “Maybe I liked your cousin flirting with me,” I bite back.
His eyes narrow as his hand tightens around my face. “You’re my wife,” he states angrily as his fingers squeeze my face.
“Please, in name only, a girl has needs,” I tease, pushing him.
“And you think my cousin could give you what you need better than I can?”
I shrug. “Like you said, he can have your sloppy seconds to find out,” I say, throwing his own words back in his face, making him wince and his shoulders sag as his hand falls away from my face, then he takes a step back from me.
“Val’s a good guy, more than I could ever be. So, do what you’ve got to do,” he says before turning and leaving me alone in the darkness.
What the hell does that mean?
After collecting myself, I head back out and try to shake off our conversation. I have one mission and that is to take down this man and his family, not worry about whatever mind games Alessandro Conti is playing with me.
I busy myself in the kitchen, putting the fresh pizza in the oven, pulling the freshly made bruschetta from the fridge, grabbing an antipasto platter already made as well, and a packet of lupini beans that I pour into a bowl and sprinkle sea salt on, popping a couple in my mouth as I go. There’s a tray of polpettine meat balls that need to be reheated, so I place that tray next to the pizza while I wait for the oven to heat up, and lastly, I find a tray of arancini balls.
Out to the table, I take the bruschetta, antipasto platter, and the lupini beans, and the guys are arguing over a hand and teasing each other—just like my own brothers do, making my heart ache thinking about them.
“Here you go, guys, some snacks to keep you going till the rest is cooked,” I say, placing them down in the middle.
“Thanks, Natalia,” Valentino grins up at me. He’s a handsome guy with dark hair, chocolate eyes, and a bit of scruff. He’s tanned, dressed nicely, tall, athletic, and cheeky. Nice, ticks all my boxes.
“Who’s winning?” I ask.
“Andro,” they all say with a groan.
I look over at where he’s seated. He ignores me and stares at his cards as his fingers turn a poker chip around between them.
“Guess I’ll leave you all to it then.”
“Why don’t you join us?” Valentino asks.
Alessandro’s hand slams down on the table as he glares at his cousin, then the room falls silent.
“Maybe not this time, but it was so kind of you to offer.” I smile at Valentino before heading back to the kitchen, just in time for the oven’s preheating beep to sound.
“Did you need any help?” Valentino asks, joining me in the kitchen.
His question makes me jump as I wasn’t expecting him there. “Oh, thank you, but I’m fine. Just have to put these trays into the oven and it’s all done,” I explain to him as I grab the first tray, slide it into the oven, and repeat it until all the trays are loaded. I look over at the table just as Alessandro’s attention is pulled back into the game.
“Would you like a drink?” Valentino asks.
“I’d love one, thanks, but aren’t you playing still?” I ask as we head toward the bar area.
He shakes his head. “Got out,” he answers as he walks around and stands behind the bar. “What would you like?” he asks.
“I’ll have a vodka, lime, soda, thanks.”
“Coming right up.” He grins, giving me a blinding smile. Wow, he really is handsome. I watch as he methodically creates me a drink. “So, you and my cousin, hey?” he asks, handing me the drink.
“What can I say? I found the love of my life. He’s the Romeo to my Juliet,” I answer sarcastically, which has him bursting out laughing, earning him a steely glare from Alessandro.
“Did the public buy your bullshit?” he asks.
“I can be convincing when I want to be,” I tell him, then take a sip of the drink. Oh, that’s strong.
“I’m sure you can.” Those chocolate eyes fall to my lips for the briefest of moments. My husband’s cousin isn’t supposed to give me flutters in my stomach. Concentrate on what you need to do, not flirt with someone you shouldn’t be.
“You’re a flirt, and it’s going to get us into trouble,” I tell him, sipping my drink.
“And?” He smirks, raising a brow at me.
“And I’m married to your cousin,” I answer.
“Technically.” He grins again, his eyes dip to my breasts, and this time, he isn’t hiding his blatant admiration.
This was not at all what I was expecting was going to happen tonight. “You are the first Conti that’s been nice to me,” I tell him.
He shrugs his shoulders. “Probably because Conti isn’t my surname, my mother was one. Also, who wouldn’t be nice to a beautiful woman like you?”
“You’re incorrigible.” I giggle, the drink hitting me as my cheeks burn from the alcohol.
“My friends call me Val,” he says.
“I’m a friend now?” I question him.
He leans forward on his forearms. “Sure, let’s start with friends.”
“Fuck,” someone curses loudly as they slam their hands onto the table.
“Don’t be a sore loser, Andro,” a voice tells him.
“Fuck you,” he practically growls, followed by the sound of a chair’s legs scraping across the floor. “I’m getting a drink,” he says, and the energy shifts around the bar as I feel him head toward us.
“Think your husband is getting jealous.” Val grins as he throws back the rest of his drink. “You want one?” he asks his cousin.
“Of course I do. Why the hell else would I be over here?”
Oh, he’s grumpy.
Val gives me a smirk. “Thought you were coming to check in on the two of us.”
I dare to look up at Alessandro from the corner of my eye as I finish off my drink.
“Why would I do that?” he snips.
Val laughs. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I’ve been hitting on your wife.” I still at his honesty. This isn’t going to end well.
Alessandro turns and glares at me. “Something smells like it’s burning.”
Oh shit.
I jump up and race over to the oven and he’s right. I open the oven door and a bit of steamy smoke comes out. I wave it away as I pull out the pizza—the crust is a little burnt. Dammit, I was trying to make a good impression with the boys. I pull it out and start cutting it up, trying to scrape off as much of the burnt crust as I can. I grab the other items, put them on trays, and leave them on the kitchen counter so that they can come and grab what they want to eat.
“Here you go,” I call out to them.
The four of them come over and start digging in, and I grab a plate for myself.
“Next time you wanna play housewife, maybe stop flirting with my family, then maybe dinner won’t get ruined,” Alessandro whispers as he passes by, filling up his plate.
“You sound jealous,” I bite back.
“Never, and not of a Fiorenzo,” Alessandro says, leveling me with a stare.
We’re back here again.
Whatever. This food is delicious, and I’m going to enjoy it.